Perennial Art History

One of the first things you might notice on the third album from New England trio, Perennial, is that quite a few moments sound similar to each other. But the repetition doesn’t betray a lack of ideas, it kind of is the idea. There’s almost a deconstruction and reconstruction taking place across these songs; the constituent parts remain broadly the same but they’re repurposed into something different each time, with new twists emerging every step of the way.

This is a short collection of 1-2 minute songs delivered with the frenzied aggression of hardcore punk and packed with nods to various 60s influences. You might catch flashes of classic rock greats like The Who, The Animals, or Revolver-era Beatles. While there’s also some sneaky pop sensibilities on display. What may initially seem like a fairly straightforward set of punk thrashers, is brimming with snippets that’ll have you trying to work out where you’ve heard them before.

Art History is like an intense sampler of some of the best moments from rock history. A reminder that it’s still possible to take pieces of the past and turn them into urgent, exciting rock music.

Best Tunes: Art History, Up-tight, Tiger Technique

Full Review

Max Blansjaar False Comforts

The debut album from Oxford-via-Amsterdam songwriter, Max Blansjaar is at once comforting and disconcerting. There’s hints of world-weary wisdom that belies his 21 years, but also the distinct sense that this is a young man very much searching for his place in the world. Like unguarded curiosity clashing with grim existentialism. His lyrics veer from vividly descriptive slice-of-life imagery to grandly surrealistic and metaphorical. While Blansjaar looks for answers, he also seems to constantly be changing the questions, always leaving you guessing as to what might come next.

This off-kilter energy is mirrored musically. The deadpan nonchalance of his vocals suggests Lou Reed minus the New York drawl. But this casual indifference is contrasted by dashes of Byrds-y sunshine psych-pop and a touch of Sufjan Stevens or Neutral Milk Hotel-style heart-on-sleeve folk. The oddball pop meets lo-fi fuzz also has obvious parallels with Beck. And to throw out another far-too-big comparison, there’s maybe just a splash of Brian Wilson in this; classic pop songwriting with ambitious experimental instincts. He may well have a baroque pop epic waiting in him, but for now it’s a bit more like baroque pop on a budget. A scruffily polished debut that hopefully gives a glimpse of greater things to come.

Best Tunes: Burning In Our Name, Like A Bad Dream, Life On Earth

Gaffa Tape Sandy Hold My Hand, God Damn It

I fully believe that pop-punk is music that should only really be consumed by American teenagers 25 years ago. However, when it’s done well, it still kinda rules. Opener, Body in the Water, is pure distilled pop-punk brilliance; two minutes of wide-eyed youthful exuberance, big riffs, and bigger hooks. But beyond my initial instinct to pigeonhole them as slightly one-dimensional pop-punkers, what really becomes apparent across their debut album is how accomplished Gaffa Tape Sandy are.

They effortlessly work in a diverse range of influences across the rock spectrum. There’s hints of the chaotic noise-pop of fellow Alcopop! Records alumni, Johnny Foreigner, on the likes of Scrapbook and Desire. They can splash in some post-punk angularity, just as easily as more muscular grungy sounds. And they briefly channel Wolf Alice, with the dreamy ambience of Rosemary and Holding Hands. It’s actually a sneakily dark album as it masks heavier themes beneath its many melodies. But that exuberant energy that initially blasts things into life never quite fades; resulting in an album that’s loud, joyful, and infectious.

Best Tunes: Body in the Water, Scrapbook, Get Off

Getdown Services Crumbs

The Crumbs EP is an odds and ends collection of leftovers from last year’s debut album, Crisps, by Getdown Sevices. Far from being a throwaway it ends up as an intriguing showcase of the Bristol duo’s versatility. Starting with the rockabilly boogie of I Got Views (which has just the slightest whiff of Status Quo about it – I say that as a positive); an ode to the ever-opinionated gobshites in your life, full of evocative lines like “you’re nothing more than your dad’s spaff gone rotten”, highlighting their flair for snarky spoken-word vitriol that will land obvious Sleaford Mods comparisons.

But there’s a knowing frivolity here that sets them apart as their grumbling at everyday annoyances is laced with a casually absurd humour and underpinned with minimalistic grooves akin to Baxter Dury. There’s a brief nod to harder rocking influences on the instrumental riff-fest Engine, which would probably be the basis for the best tune in many a lesser indie bands’ catalogue. And elsewhere they demonstrate their capability for bittersweet melancholia, like the gentle sing-song melody of Every Day Is Fun Day (which I’m convinced rips off a mid-00s UK sitcom theme tune, but I can’t work out what). Highly quotable, highly danceable, and surprisingly sentimental.

Best Tune: I Got Views

Headshrinkers Judgement Day

As an old indie-head, I find I’m aging out of a lot of new bands that I may have loved in my younger days. There comes a point where the influences are a bit too obvious and there’s only so many times you can hear the working class kids dreaming of rock stardom schtick. But Headshrinkers capture some of that indie magic that has me putting my cynicism aside and reigniting some teenage enthusiasm.

In Garran Hickman, they have a classic charismatic frontman. He lands somewhere between Liam Gallagher and Jamie T; part tender hooligan swagger, and part kitchen-sink poet, with his delivery occasionally breaking out into rapid-fire half-raps. And all with a heavy Black Country twang that’s unmistakably his own. And while they’re only a slight presence across the EP, the backing vocals of drummer, Scarlett Churchill, may be the secret ingredient. Like gleeful howls contrasting Hickman’s raspy growls.

Driven by low rumbling bass, there’s big hints of Fontaines D.C. in the gloomy post-punk meets garage rock energy of tracks like Plasticine. Hickman’s lyrics are gritty yet enigmatic as he delivers sketches of life in forgotten towns and laments the age of algorithms. It may take a few listens to reveal itself beneath his brash tones, but there’s a stark vulnerability on display here. But where they really excel is in good old-fashioned sing-along anthems; the way the chorus bursts into life out of nowhere on LOCO or the oddly psychedelic jubilant lullaby that emerges from the darkness on My Dear. And they even nail some working class kids dreaming of rock stardom schtick, with the excellent ode to escapism of Bang Bang.

One of the most exiting bands coming up in the UK indie scene.

Best Tunes: LOCO, Bang Bang, My Dear