Featured Releases: April 15, 2024

Spaced: This Is All We Ever Get 12” (Revelation Records) I knew nothing about Buffalo, New York’s Spaced before I dropped the needle on their Revelation debut, This Is All We Ever Get, but the combination of the band’s surreal and psychedelic imagery and the Revelation Records stamp of approval moved me to check it out, and I’m glad I did. Compared to much of the hardcore we cover at Sorry State, Spaced’s sound is very modern, though there are old school elements in the mix, like the Cro-Mags-esque galloping beats and the singer’s raspy vocals. Though Spaced’s singer sounds like a woman, they also sound a bit like Kurt from DRI on Dealing with It, super snotty and punk but with legible lyrics and a knack for melding them to simple, hooky melodies. The thing I like most about Spaced, though, is how eclectic their songs are. Though the songs are short (its eight tracks blaze by in just 16 minutes), they’re full of parts that often contrast starkly with one another. They might shift from that Cro-Mags gallop to a Gag/Bib-esque pogo beat, then into a groovy part where you hear the influence of 90s bands like Quicksand. There are also huge mosh parts and singalongs, both of which I’m sure make crowds of people many years younger than me lose their minds. There’s even a vaporwave-ish track (“AIATB”) that breaks up the intensity nicely. While I like some parts more than others, you never know what’s lurking around the next corner of a Spaced song, and the record’s dynamism means that, even if you don’t like, it would be hard to call it boring. I know many people who read Sorry State’s newsletter are dedicated to 80s hardcore styles and Spaced probably won’t be for them, but if you have broader tastes or you’re just looking to mix it up, This Is All We Ever Get is a thrilling listen.

Svaveldioxid / Parasit: Split 7” (Phobia Records) Phobia Records brings together these two veteran Swedish d-beat bands for a well-matched split 7”. No doubt you know both these bands’ names if you follow modern Swedish d-beat, and while all four songs here are very much in that vein, they show how much room for movement there is within a style that’s often dismissed as derivative. Svaveldioxid’s first track, “Ruttna Bort,” starts with a gloomy intro and segues into a powerful d-beat fast part that’s heavy and punishing on the surface, but the more melodic guitar riffing I can hear at the edges of the mix gives it the textural richness of 2000s-era Avskum. Their second track, “Statliga Mord,” is more of a punishing, Disfear-type track (BTW, Svaveldioxid’s drummer is Robin Wiberg, who played on Disfear’s Everyday Slaughter), climaxing with a simple, repetitive guitar lead that makes me think of Anti-Cimex’s “When the Innocent Die.” As for Parasit, while they play a similar style, their singer has a rawer, more unhinged style, and their first track, “Tysta Skrik,” uses chords and rhythms rooted heavily in Discharge’s Hear Nothing See Nothing Say Nothing-era sound. Then they totally switch things up for their second track, “När Skiten Rasar,” a more rocking mid-paced track that doesn’t sound like Discharge at all, but more like some of Totalitär’s mid-paced songs. Maybe at the end of the day, this one is for the heads, but the heads will find plenty to enjoy here.

Pleasure: Candy Samples cassette (Donor Records) Leeds, England’s Pleasure has a sound rooted firmly in the tradition of dark, nihilistic hardcore that begins with Black Flag’s Damaged and extends through everyone from Bl’ast (obviously) to Fang through the Melvins and Bleach-era Nirvana and all eras of hardcore punk since. The riffs are heavy but the vibes are heavier, with a bottom-trawling sound meant to evoke, soundtrack, or even trigger an actual psychotic meltdown. If you’re able to listen past the overwhelming negativity of it all, there’s a lot to keep the fan of dense and dynamic hardcore interested here. Much like Damaged, it feels like there’s more music here than the recording can hold. Rhythms range from driving, Negative Approach-inspired thrash to lumbering noise rock, but pleasure is always doing interesting stuff whatever mode they’re in. I love the rhythmic hiccup in the breakdown of the opening track, “Buzzed,” the skronky Ginn-inspired guitar solo in “Relaxation,” and the way instruments dramatically drop in and out of the full-scale assault of “Prayer Glitch,” perhaps Candy Samples’ most exciting track. That darkly bent song particularly reminds me of first album-era Double Negative, though that wouldn’t be an out-of-place comparison for any of these tracks. If you like your hardcore dense and warped, you’re gonna like Pleasure.

Sexpill: In Dust We Trust 12” (Beach Impediment Records) In Dust We Trust is the proper debut vinyl for this long-running noisy hardcore band from Texas. While you could place Sexpill in the same category as noisy hardcore bands like Enzyme and Lebenden Toten, their execution is so over the top and unique to them that comparisons only go so far. Sexpill’s formula is straightforward and doesn’t vary much from song to song: apocalyptic riffs inspired by 80s Japanese hardcore, a pogo beat played at “violence tempo,” a manic, drug-fueled madman on the mic, and a thick blanket of noise draped across the top of everything. While there are minor variations (“South East Santa,” for instance, zones out and stretches to twice the length of the other tracks), Sexpill finds a lot of room for expression within that formula. The vocals are very creative, not only finding interesting rhythms but also making strange sounds that sometimes don’t sound like the human voice at all, as well as using the microphone creatively, backing away strategically at some points and, at others, pushing so much air that it goes into the red. The noises over top of the more standard punk instrumentation are also consistently fascinating, varying in texture from song to song and orchestrated to accent the particular dynamics within any given song. You could remove the bass, guitar, drums, and vocals from this record and have a compelling harsh noise record. Whether you’re a wasted punk who just wants the loudest, craziest music possible or you’re a brainy appreciator of aural sculpture, In Dust We Trust has plenty to love.

Drill: Permanent 12” (Abandon Everything Records) I was a big fan of the first cassette from Philadelphia’s Drill, and while I was anticipating Permanent, I’m sad to hear that it’s a posthumous release as the band has broken up. I know it’s hard to generate excitement for a new record by a defunct band, but fuck… Permanent is so killer! While much of Drill’s music lies on the arty, bass-forward end of the post-punk spectrum and might warrant comparisons to contemporary bands like Spread Joy, the World, and Fitness Womxn, you really can’t pigeonhole their sound. First of all, the band’s setup—drums, bass, and synth—immediately separates them from other similar groups, particularly since the synth player approaches the instrument more as a noisemaker than a deliverer of melody. While the bass establishes the songs’ chord progressions and core instrumental melodies, most of the time the synth bursts in with these harsh squalls that lend an air of arty chaos. While the synth sounds are abrasive, Drill’s great songwriting and willingness to inhabit different musical moods makes me think of the best 90s indie rock bands. I compared them to early Pavement when I wrote about their tape, but the band that comes to mind when I listen to Permanent is the Breeders, particularly the bouncy, vaguely hip-hop-ish gait of “Pipsqueak” and the brilliant “Eggs for Now,” a five-minute long amble whose loping groove makes me think of a sun-drenched cowboy clip-clopping his way across the desert while tripping on acid. Other highlights include “Gavin,” the one track with guitar, which plays a rockabilly-tinged riff that makes me think of Brix’s stint in the Fall, and “Sweat,” whose extra funky groove and over the top vocals warrant comparisons to Suburban Lawns. Permanent is just a great fucking record from beginning to end, and Abandon Everything Records even pressed up a small batch on a special color vinyl for Sorry State’s customers, so pick it up while you can.

Viscount: 10 Past 10 cassette (Noble Lowndes Annuities) 10 Past 10 is the debut 8-song cassette from this solo project helmed by Lucy Anstey. I am a big fan of Lucy’s band Primetime (maybe you are too?), so when I saw this solo release hyped in Neon Taste’s newsletter, I had to check it out. Primetime always had great pop melodies, and that carries over to Viscount, though the instrumentation is quite different. There’s probably a better comparison out there, but many of the tracks on 10 Past 10 remind me of New Order’s electronic pop: drum machines, synthesizers, dance rhythms and big pop instrumental and vocal hooks. That’s the core of the sound, but there are also two more abstract instrumentals (“Dungeon” and “Third Floor Corridor”) that break up 10 Past 10 nicely, as well as a cover song at the end of each side. I like the cover of “Rose Garden,” but Viscount’s cover of “When You’re Happy You Won’t Understand” by the Bartlebees really blew me away. I’m not familiar with the Bartlebees—Discogs tells me they’re a 90s German garage/indie band—but in Viscount’s hands, “When You’re Happy” is a beautiful slice of wistful 80s-style indie-pop with a minimal synth backbone and an absolutely classic chorus. I have a feeling I’ll be putting this song on mix tapes for many years to come. All of 10 Past 10 is great though… maybe its title shoulda been 10 out of 10?