INDIGOS ‘INDIGOS’

It took a global pandemic but the free market zealots finally paused the capitalist hamster-wheel (after much equivocation and an obscene death toll). Long inured by a lifetime of merciless labour extraction, a percentage of the overworked and underpaid were granted the simple, Marxist ideal of free time. This freedom to allow personal development away from the neoliberal grind could be both liberating and terrifying. Alone with your thoughts and little else, deep rumination and introspective wanderings can take place, reaching profound epiphany or painful reconciling with wounds that lie buried and unresolved.

“Self-reflection, projection, nostalgia…”. The lyrical themes of INDIGOS, as stated on their Bandcamp, feel inexorably linked to this reflective pivot that hangs in the air. Like the mysterious duality of night and day adorning their latest cover, the Bristol-based heavy pop trio have crafted an exquisite blend of psychedelic shoegaze and slacker grunge that uncannily scores the contemporary contemplation and its trepidation. Sharing a love for 90s alternative rock like Smashing Pumpkins and Pixies, INDIGOS, along with kindred spirits Wych Elm, anchor their lethargic fuzz with a keen ear for subtle but infectious pop hooks. After winning support slots with Cherry Glazerr and rotation on 6 Music, INDIGOS finally drop their debut EP via AC30 Records and co-production help from IDLES guitarist Lee Kiernan.

Sophia Barnes’ mean bass opens INDIGOS on the explosive ‘Silhouette of You’, pitch-perfect loud/quiet dynamics straight out of Doolittle ending with a strung-out thrash that’s both heady and electric. Guitarist Jack Croft’s swirling jangle expertly percolates around Barnes’ spooky vocals on the eerie ‘I’m Healed’, before the stirring ‘Animalistic’ displays an anthemic rigour to their tripped-out post-punk. Finale ‘Out of Body’ is simply stunning, a gorgeous meander through a hazy daydream of ethereal effects washes and Barnes’ cooly delicate vocals before an awesome guitar attack that recalls the breathtaking solos from Siamese Dream.

Thrillingly ethereal without ever becoming lost in its sonic expanse, INDIGOS is four tracks of impeccable psych-rock that veers between light and dark with ease, channelling the ambiguity of our collective uncertainty with exceptional insight.

Spit ‘n’ Static! 1020 Radio #17

“Rats mutated from the acid rain, feel that radiation going into my brain!”

6̷9̷4̷1̷0̷ ̷6̷9̷4̷1̷0̷ ̷0̷3̷9̷3̷2̷ ̷0̷3̷9̷3̷2̷ ̷4̷2̷1̷7̷5̷ ̷4̷2̷1̷7̷5̷ ̷7̷2̷9̷6̷4̷ ̷7̷2̷9̷6̷4̷ ̷7̷9̷3̷8̷3̷ ̷7̷9̷3̷8̷3̷ ̷3̷2̷6̷4̷4̷ ̷3̷2̷6̷4̷4̷ ̷4̷1̷9̷6̷8̷ ̷4̷1̷9̷6̷8̷ ̷8̷1̷6̷0̷0̷ ̷8̷1̷6̷0̷0̷ ̷2̷7̷6̷4̷5̷ ̷2̷7̷6̷4̷5̷ ̷0̷1̷6̷6̷8̷ ̷0̷1̷6̷6̷8̷… 1020 Radio picked up some shortwave intelligence today, the Spit ‘n’ Static! signal beaming the usual synthpunk sludge with queasy interference from the mysterious numbers at 4625 kHz! E̷͈͗̊̆̔̈̔̀̌͠n̸̘̥̠̠͔̑́̓d̶̟̥͖͈̆̓̄̿̍̅́͘ ̸̯͙̖̞̳͕͚̂̀̀̒̃͑̈́ŏ̴̧̢̡̠͔̠͖f̵̢̢͖̜̬̘̞̽̓̓͜ ̴̳͈̥̑̀ẗ̴̛͈̮̙́́͒̃̑̕r̴̨̩̺͖̆̍͗̓̇́͝ä̸̛̛̙́̈́̋̒͌n̸̨̨̛̛̛͍̥̓́̍̇͠͝s̸̡̻͙̩̭͚̦͖̋̏̋̂̀̅̅̃̕m̵͙̜̿̄ǐ̶͕͗͜s̴̟̺̦̮̀̄͊̔̕s̷̨͕̿̓̑̈́̃̾̊̓i̸̡̛̗̺̲͒͘͝ȏ̸̧̡̰͉̖̪̯̞̋͋͒̈́͐͐͝ņ̷͍̲͇̳͍͒́̎̂̀͋̈́ͅ

TV nightmares by Haydiroket

Syzygy ‘The Pendulum’

“Any two related things, either alike or opposite”. Amid an aggressive socio-economic homogeneity, where any slight deviation of rabid capitalism’s ever closing peripheries of permissible discourse is crushed by a compliant media, the yearning for some elemental, binary pull only grows greater. The political pendulum which conventional wisdom tells us is forever swinging across the spectrum is currently stuck on Right, and perhaps the vital forces of syzygy need to be conjured to haul the lever back down, crashing through the dull certainty of the modern age.

Structures and balance are explored in Rebecca Maher and Gus Kenny’s new synth project Syzygy. Swapping the cyberpunk confrontation of prior band Spotting for shimmering electropop, the Melbourne duo injects the genre’s chilly aesthetics with a warm beating heart of rich melodies and bright analogue production. Preceding their debut EP with an inclusion on the excellent Blow Blood Records compilation A Long Time Alone, new release The Pendulum sees Syzygy’s search for duality in the form of four expert synthpop tracks.

The urgent title track opens the EP with dramatic heft, a great joyous hammering of jabbing basslines and glossy keys that strikes together radiantly, Maher maintaining a strong yet understated vocal delivery throughout. The crunchy ‘Social Fence’ retains their former punk snarl, a climactic frenzy of John Foxx style synth leads and punchy drum machines, while ‘Memory Distortion’ drops the tempo to a glacial groove, Maher’s icy detailing of blurred recollections and fragmented thoughts given an ethereal edge. Finale ‘(I’ll Just Be) Unfulfilled’ is an utterly infectious slice of euphoric heady dance which belies its lyrical resignations to a life of rigid, societal claustrophobia, the song takes off halfway in soaring and rousing lift of twinkling arpeggios and celestial sequencers to a thrilling, conclusive ascension.

The energy that fuels The Pendulum is effervescent and electric, an EP of bristling pop vigour bursting with life and a wonderful precariousness that hides underneath the assured front, the subtle forces that tantalisingly threaten life’s cohesion and harmony baring its teeth if you look close enough.

Glaciers Noods Radio #18

The latest Glaciers is up! Another exquisite traverse across chilly synythscapes and new wave tundras! Make sure you head to Noods Radio for the next hour of all things icy, ethereal, and glittering! 🎹 ❄️ 👌

Belle Royals ‘FTBAASBVSREP’

Geordie noise rock trio Belle Royals are full of intrigue. Is there self-coined ‘9wave’ genre a sincere reference to Ivan Aivazovsky’s Ninth Wave or a deprecating jibe at new age, ‘third eye’ dross? What does their latest EP title FTBAASBVSREP stand for? Is the ‘Battle of Black And Red’ graffitied across their Rage Against the Machine pastiche of a cover a historic, Tyneside skirmish, or merely referencing the Tyne-Wear football derby? With their Bandcamp info statements short bursts of inscrutable jocularity, frontman Duane Eggers pushes the band’s idiosyncratic humour to the fore which creates their own irreverent brand of mystique.

Following from the electronica slicked post-punk of prior release SCPPFTBAASEP, latest EP FTBAASBVSREP is another blast of crunchy, mutoid cacophony. First track ‘Recourse to Pile’ is a soldierly collage of martial drums and Gang of Four groove that marches together with earnest propulsion, Eggers vocal delivery reminiscent of Ian MacKaye and Al Jourgensen’s Pailhead project. Expert garage rock saturated with polluted buzz shows the band’s guile for a good tune on the electric ‘Four Foot Big Foot’, a sparky guitar solo soars irresistibly amid choppy punk riffs. Third and final track ‘BVSR’ ends things on a chaotic note, industrial clangour and atonal synths wrestle belligerently in a cavernous swirl of erratic tempo and juddering beats.

Held together by a cohesive slop of abrasive, lo-fi production yet allowing distinct characteristic hues among the three tracks, FTBAASBVSREP firmly confirms that Belle Royals are ones to watch out for in the ‘9wave’ underground of both the Toon and Mackem.

Spit ‘n’ Static! 1020 Radio #16

‘I’m wired up! I’m wired up! I’m wired up!I’m wired up! I’m wired up! I’m wired up! I’m wired up! They got Stelazine, Thorazine, and Largactil!’

“That’s not reggae, it’s imitation” to misquote Dr. Blair. There’s a giant carnival shaped hole that was filled with Spit ‘n’ Static! sludge over at 1020 Radio today, the synthpunk intrusion garbling with weird reggae, alien dub, and the noxious fumes of The Thin Blue Slime in flames! 🐖 ☢️ 📡 👽 👌

Purple fuzzy void by Roberto Malano

Juicebumps ‘Hello Pinky!’

Before the millennials came of age, nostalgia looked like film. The brief moments of colour in Scorsese’s black and white opus Raging Bull depict La Motta’s facade of cosy domesticity in intimate 16mm, the very grain of each frame in the celluloid reel prodding the wistful sentimentality of prior generations. For kids of the 90s, warm reminiscence is a rather noisy media buzz of worn VHS’s, queasy DV digital grit and crowded Geocities World Wide Web clamour. Could the video horrorshow of The Memory Hole have ever gained traction outside the distorted humour and inexplicable acerbity of the 2010s?

Irreverent and idiosyncratic penchants for the crude aesthetics of tawdry infomercials and ‘edutainment’ dross ooze all over San Francisco spank rockers Juicebumps. Audio clips of slasher turkey Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2, dated internet demonstrations and the like saturate debut album Hello Pinky!, a record that feels perpetually tuning itself between differing stations. Recruiting Spencer Owings for synth duties, Juicebumps advance from the jerky garage rock of prior EP Jelly and delve deeper into their eccentric art-punk playfulness.

The sticky yolk of eggpunk secretes all over their self-described ‘spookwave’ yet avoids the genres characteristic lo-fi style in favour of a bright and confident production, each riff and beat striding with satisfying clarity. This skewed radiance is deftly exemplified on the catchy as hell ‘Hairy World’, a feverish indie number with echoes of Devo, frontman Parker Richard exploring the pungent world for a ‘hairy friend’ while jumping between frantic gusto and angular, nasal whine. Second track but first proper song ‘Wet Leather’ infuses their brash virtuosity with a steady dose of motorik beat that paces alongside offbeat keys and explosive guitar attacks and smattered with garbled audiotape effects, parading their dexterous handling of keen musicianship and avant-garde proclivities.

The expanded palette of sounds yielded by producer Spencer Hartling’s studio expertise shine on the warped synthpop of ‘c0mput3r_p30pl3’, a disorienting stew of fizzy drum machines and atonal guitar scoring the themes of societies hopeless tie to technology expertly, the line “people work, computers think” bristling with particular pertinence. Subtle rockabilly twangs on the contorted ‘Wet Boi’, while the arrangement and tempo of ‘Trash Crimes’ point to ELO at their pomp. Album closer ‘Asphalt Kiss’ is all groove, a nimble swagger of strutting bass wading through a marsh of muggy synths and preset sounding percussion, the gurgling electronics finally enveloping as you sink completely in its analogue murk.

Imbued with the best of their San Fran art-punk predecessors, Juicebumps delivers an urgent debut that takes intriguing mixtures of disparate styles and unexpected detours in composition, demanding constant attention throughout its 36 minutes. Hello Pinky! firmly places the band as one of the most exciting acts in California right now.

Glaciers Noods Radio #17

The chilly punch of Glaciers hit Noods Radio once again, another hour of minimal synth and frosty vibes. Cracking cover of ‘Rhythm Is a Dancer’ too! Check it!

Sex 2 ‘Sex 2’

Remember XX Teens, an art-punk, alt-disco band of sorts from the tail-end of the 2000s whose Google results would yield a world of accidental hardcore? Searching for San Clemente’s Sex 2 are wrought with similar pitfalls but spiked with a queasy dose of contemporary, political rot: ‘ANTIHERO949‘ advertising his alleged ‘lingual prowess’ in local hook-ups site confounds against alt-right slime clogging some forum with their transphobia dressed-up as ‘defending the pillars of society’. Unwittingly no doubt, but Sex 2 in their own irreverent way lifted the lid on American society and exposed the fester of desperation and insecurity that lurks underneath.

Sex 2’s scuzzy splurge of lo-fi, punk thrash feels inexorably linked to the polluted waters of Doheny Beach, one can imagine their self-titled EP landing on the table of White Glove Records soaked and clammy with seaweed and used condoms. A garbled phone call from an irate customer opens the first track ‘Doheny State Beach Visitor Center’ before plunging into a satisfying dirge of Bleach style grunge and shout-along vocals. Sluggish stoner sludge clobbers on the oozing ‘Sex 2 On The Beach’, the vocalist spitting “I do whatever the fuck I want, this is my beach” as he takes a piss all over the surf culture of sunny OC.

The band make further public nuisances of themselves on ‘Biking Under The Influence’, crashing headfirst over the handlebars into the strung-out psych-blast of ‘Take So Long’ containing an electric, LSD soaked solo while you nurse a broken nose and scour the pavement for your bag of MDMA. A brief moment of echoing contemplation veils the obscured monologue of penultimate track ‘Fuck Sex 2’ before launching into the pummeler ‘Ashley Wants a New Porsche’, a furious charge of DC hardcore that ends with the opening drum beat from what sounds like Devo’s ‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’ and a pastiche of Dr. Dre G-funk reminding us that tongues (perhaps ANTIHERO949’s) are firmly in cheek.

Authentically conjuring the proud punk heritage of California and injecting a sardonic bite that feels vigorously current, Sex 2 is an adrenaline shot of derisive snot which gets you through another day in the upside-down sump of the Trumpian landscape.

Viral Nights w/ VHS¥DEATH Threads Radio

Was a pleasure to guest on VHS¥DEATH‘s debut show Viral Nights for London’s Threads Radio, a show for all things post-punk, goth and cold-wave! Taking thematic guidance from the ‘isolation’ angle, I’ve contributed a cheeky 45 mins of instrospective rumination to round off the mix, enjoy!

Check out VHS¥DEATH’s band Returning Videotapes too!