The RadioActivist

The We Just Call It Roulette Vol. 2 compilation by Russian Recording represents some of the acts comprising Bloomington, Indiana’s thriving independent music scene and some from out of town, all of whom have recorded at the Russian Recording cabin in Browne County, Indiana. Though extremely diverse in style and sound, We Just Call It Roulette Vol. 2 features a healthy blend of music, the variety of which actually ties the album together nicely. Whether it’s the frisky folk-punk of Defiance, Ohio or xylophonic traditional Zimbabwe music of Sheasby Matiure and the Mbira Queens, the sequencing is fitting and moves from genre to genre with grace. Within the punk framework is the aforementioned Defiance, Ohio, with their contribution “Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop,” which is among the band’s most aggressive numbers. Prizzy Prizzy Please barrels through their sparkling addition “Thundergust of Woodpeckers,” while the somewhat creepily named Child Bite hurls forth an almost instrumental horn-punk nu

A word of wisdom to the dudes in Janus: More layers does not mean better songs. Just like adding extra double-bass doesn't make better metalcore and piling on eyeliner won’t equal better screamo, Pro Tooling nine layers of sound may give songs a deeper texture, but won’t make up for trite songwriting. That seems to be the inherent flaw in Janus’s newest, Right Red Return. While ghostly background vocals and atmospheric ambience blanket each song like a stratus, the corresponding dullness of form leaves much to be desired. Clumped somewhere between hard rock, heavy emo or some variety of bland post-hardcore, Janus moves tepidly between 10 songs of overdramatic monotony. Almost comically, their press material refers to Janus as “metal,” going so far as to assert they bring “a fresh new sound to the genre" thereof. Perhaps some watered down form of nü-metal might be more accurate, but it’s been awhile since nü-metal was actually considered new (or metal). The histrionic singing o

My initial encounter with December Peals was marked by generally poor first impressions and unfortunately not much changes with their full-length People Have Demons . With what might optimistically be labeled as energetic rock ’n’ roll, but more realistically some ebullient take on cock rock, December Peals jerk through thirteen songs in 45 minutes. While the musicianship is competent and the songs fairly lively for the most part, the band has a hard time crafting any hooks, instead relying on standard rock guitar leads like on the opener “Bad Company” and its follower “The Devil You Know.” The band goes unplugged for “Capitol Cowboys,” which pursues a slightly different styles, but doesn’t really hit a stride until about three-quarters of the way through. However, it’s clear December Peals has improved markedly over their 2008 split with Boozed. There are occasional traces of the Bronx, and the band grinds out some thick, more punk-styled jams like “Saints and Sinners” and “Hypoxi

You really gotta hand it to the folks at Rodent Popsicle. At a time when many long-running DIY crust punk/raw hardcore labels are closing up shop (Profane Existence) or lying dormant (Punk Core), Rodent Popsicle Records pushes forward releasing music for and by punks in full knowledge that it’s not the kind of music that’s going to get anyone rich. Granted, this DVD came out a while ago, but the care and attention to detail that went into this DIY release is a testament to the spirit of punk rock itself. Filmed in their hometown of Boston on December 18th, 2004 on their 15-year anniversary show, this DVD celebrates the storied history of one of hardcores’s most vituperative, pessimistic bands. Captured on five cameras and mixed in 5.1 surround sound, the band blasts through 22 Toxic Narcotic favorites like “People Suck,” “We’re Not Happy,” “We’re All Doomed” and “Shoot People, Not Dope.” With strobe lights flashing at an epileptic pace and people going apeshit left and right, the envir

For the amount of classic rock the Rebel Dead claims as influence on their MySpace page, there’s little semblance of any such traces in their rough-hewn street punk style. But with catchy sing-alongs, danceable rhythms and tight songwriting, there’s nothing lacking in what the Rebel Dead does on their self-titled LP. Granted, there are two songs whose tepid advancement could run parallel to some sheepish, tightly-pants’d arena rocker of yesteryear (“The Hard Times,” and to a lesser extent “Long Island’s Sinking”). But the majority of tunes here are far too lively and rowdy to be considered anything less than punk rock. Though rife with clichés, songs like “Three Sheets to the Wind,” “Thicker Than Blood” and “Bottomed Out” are energetic and full, with walking basslines and "whoa"-ing backing vocals. “Cheers, Fuck-Face!” spends the first two minutes sauntering in like Bob Dylan on his harmonica, before exploding into something more akin to the Pogues, while “Dancing with the De

The grinding cacophony of crust punk and playful upstrokes of ska have rarely joined hands, and even more rarely done so with any semblance of style or skill. Despite their squatting lifestyle and poor hygiene, the crack rock steady of Choking Victim and Leftover Crack generally gets shut out of the elitist crust punk scene while the Subhumans and Citizen Fish are really more anarcho bands with some ska tendencies. So for all intents and purposes, Mouth Sewn Shut marched into a new territory of checkered dumpster divers and nihilistic rude boys with their debut Pandemic = Solution. If the title of the delightfully fatalistic Doomed Future Today isn't any indication of what to expect on this record, song titles like “When Is it Going to End,” “World War 3” and “I Hate It” should leave no doubt. Featuring half of Toxic Narcotic (including vocalist Bill Damon), Mouth Sewn Shut play a combination of about one-third faithful crust punk, another third grimy, distorted reggae, and the las

In between pioneering the youth crew movement of the late '80s with Youth of Today and helping ignite the youth crew revival of the late 1990s with Better Than a Thousand, Ray Cappo formed Shelter in 1991 as an outlet for his Hare Krishna ideals and a path to a more melodic form of hardcore punk. Releasing a small library of 7-inches, cassettes, EPs and full-lengths, Shelter has concurrently embraced sugary pop-punk and melodic hardcore anthems that faithfully espouse their Hare Krishna and straight-edge principles of mind and body purity. In 2000 the band released When 20 Summers Pass, which follows the same general pattern but does so in stunning fashion, blending positivity with introspection, spirituality with Earthly struggles, and above all, lays down some of the catchiest melodies hardcore has heard. “In the Van Again” packs some pop-punk punch early, describing the touring routine and sacrifices of the lifestyle: “I traded in university / For this backseat and poverty / But

Despite the mundane name and ho-hum artwork that accompanies Tournament’s Years Old, a fairly enjoyable slathering of loose hardcore, stoner rock and classic metal is strung together, and is done so seemingly effortlessly. Toying with equal parts My War-era Black Flag and the occasionally sludgy stomp of Black Sabbath, Tournament arrives at a modern-day parallel somewhere between Neurosis and Akimbo. And given that High Times reviews their music, it’s fairly easy to understand Tournament’s place in the music realm. With a lively 1-2 (err, rather 2-3) punch of “Intake Controller” and “Washcloth,” Tournament gets things going early on Years Old. They eventually slow considerably with the sludgy “Smokelore” and the instrumental “From the Mouths of Non-Believers,” but at least it gets the LP off on the right foot. The lyrics are indecipherable and not printed with the digipak, but some of the song titles like “Snuff News” and “Good, thanks. You?” are pretty amusing. “Big Box Opportunity” i

For over 20 years, Germany’s Mad Sin has been one of the premier psychobilly bands in the world, releasing some nine studio offerings and touring the globe multiple times over. This two-disc combo seeks to chronicle both their studio output and live abilities as demonstrated by the recording of a 2006 show at the Henry Fonda Theater in Hollywood, California. Disc 1 is a collection of studio tracks from an assortment of different sources. Five are brand new recordings, two are unreleased tracks from Survival of the Sickest, and the rest are covers and rarities. Despite the obvious handicap of a German band singing in English (aside from a cover of Ideal’s “Ich Kann Nicht Schlafen”), they pull it off fairly well. The highlights of the disc occur when singer Koefte Deville pushes the potential of his melodies and pulls out some great hooks, like on the frantic psychopop of “Rusty Nails.” The excellent rock ‘n' punk of “Dirty City” neglects too many psychobilly clichés while Deville si

Fans of nerdy fuzz rock, take note: The next several paragraphs are written just for you. For while the peppy but placid brand of indie Built by Snow manufactures is something just about anyone should be able to tolerate, the keyboard-driven, major-scaled, Pacman-referencing Mega will find a special place among the college radio fiends of the music consuming population. Mega is catchy and concise, dropping just nine tracks (two of them instrumental or virtually instrumental) in the 20 minutes of disc space it inhabits. The nerdery is taken to all new levels on songs like the buzzing, whirling “Algometric Touch” and commercially appealing “Invaders” as vocalist JP encourages: “Let’s take on gravity / Put rockets on our feet / And explode somewhere over the sea.” The energetic cutesiness runs parallel to a somehow less punk version of Hellogoodbye with the geek rock appeal of They Might Be Giants. Leaning heavily on the Moog and Korg, BBS crafts clean, comforting melodies like the 8-bit-

Throughout their existence, the Jam always maintained a precarious position within the punk rock spectrum. A fitting illustration is the cover of their acclaimed 1977 debut In the City, where the band’s clean-cut mod portrayal belies their youthful rebellion while the hasty rendering of their name in graffiti contradicts the development and precision of their tight musicianship. On top of that, Bob Marley invited the Jam to his “Punky Reggae Party” alongside the Damned and the Clash, but vexingly also included the decidedly un-punk Dr. Feelgood in the festivities. Regardless of where the Jam fell in the cliquey continuum of British rock scenes in the 1970s, their full-length introduction impressively paved the way for an extremely successful, albeit ephemeral run in popular music. The terse chords that commence the album on the lead-in “Art School” do so in much the same fashion as the Clash hammering out “Clash City Rockers” to start the U.S. version of their debut full-length at arou

Superficially, the Beantown Boozehounds’ Pour Another Round is an extremely catchy, fun blend of Boston street punk and Americanized Celtic rock. The track list is diverse, the musicianship is solid, and the songs pack a nice punch. But there’s one glaring problem that quickly unfolds and severely hampers any possible potential for greatness. It begins with the "Beantown Boozehounds." It follows with Pour Another Round. And between “Going Down the Bar,” “We’ll Be Drinking” and “D.U.I.” it becomes painfully clear that this band is nearly incapable of making music that doesn't revolve around the consumption of alcohol. Of the 12 songs that populate Pour Another Round, every single one is either exclusively devoted to drinking, or mentions some form of drunken debauchery in passing. It’s an obsession that essentially runs parallel to that of Afroman and the chronic bubonic, while the object of fascination here is the fermented fluid flowing from any variety of bottles and ca

In 2005, the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles was purchased by the Korean-American Church, the Glory Church of Jesus Christ. Since the site was a crucial breeding ground for California punk and hardcore in the early 1980s thanks to Gary Tovar and Goldenvoice Productions, the venue as it was known had a fitting farewell for its final show: Venice’s legendary Suicidal Tendencies. Before the live footage even begins, frontman Mike Muir recalls the Suicidal Tendencies' formation and history. From recounting being voted “biggest assholes” in Flipside magazine to their dedication to not following any specific punk rock dogma or style, Muir primes the viewer for the ensuing spectacle. With Muir in his trademark bandana and baggy clothes, the band representing all races and playing their unique blend of punk, thrash, funk and hardcore, the Suicidal Tendencies are certainly true to their ideals of “no rules.” Muir’s stage presence is striking, as he espouses anecdotes and life lessons like

Dischord devotees may remember Trusty for the pair of albums the D.C.-based label released in the 1990s and the band’s subsequent extensive touring until their breakup in 1997. But while those Dischord records demonstrated a more pop-oriented and intellectually sound band, no such release captured the raw energy and fervor of their demo, re-released for the first time in 20 years by DC-Jam Records. Despite their roots in Little Rock, Arkansas, Trusty had a groovy hardcore punk sound that fits nicely among the “D.C. sound” even before they moved there in 1992. Combined with their already developed style and their new capitol locale, it made sense that they would go on to sign with Dischord following the release of this demo as the first band on the label not originating in D.C. The band is at the top of their game on the opening track “Mister Know-It All.” “You’re a million miles deeper than the deepest sea / You write a real mean line of poetry / You’re the greatest modern thinker in t

Radon is one of the best pop-punk bands out there. They’re also probably one of the most underrated, unheard and unknown. But there’s something magical in a Radon song that’s blatantly apparent though difficult to describe. Part of it is Dave Rohm’s confident but prying vocals that exert warm, comforting melodies through fuzzy guitars and drums that--unlike most punk bands--are in no particular hurry. Another part is the bizarro lyrics thrown to paper that puzzle, bewilder, and eventually begin to make some strange form of sense within the framework of the song. Take “Kibbles and Bits,” for example, which is, with no exaggeration, one of the catchiest songs ever: “I want out of this neurotic master / It has me by the leash / This dog wants to run free and shit in the woods / Don’t feed me that Kibbles and Bits shit / This dog wants the food that’s good / And let the photons shine on in / This light-starved seed wants to grow / I want it always.” Or if that’s not odd enough, try the bou

In continuing with their recent flurry of activity in the last five to six years, Millions of Dead Cops have paired up with London street punks the Restarts for this rousing 15-song split LP. With the questionable quality of some of MDC’s more recent output (especially their acoustic split with John the Baker), Mobocracy is undoubtedly some of their finest work since fully reemerging with Magnus Domingus Corpus, an effort that flowed awkwardly at times and was uneven at best. Here, the songs are biting and terse, with more engaging music and a better vocal delivery by loquacious frontman Dave Dictor, who often tries to stuff too many words into a verse. The vituperative opener “Patriot Asshole” sets the tone for MDC’s half of the split, an animated composition replete with auxiliary vocals and menacing guitar work and the vindictive MDC spirit fans expect. Dictor follows up “Patriot Asshole” with the unexpectedly cautionary “Quentin” in reference to San Quentin State Prison. He explain

There’s “weird for the sake of being weird,” and then there’s bands like the White Mice who base their entire existence around it. There have been plenty of bands who’ve ridden a wave of success at least in part on their aesthetic gimmicks. Gwar, certainly; the Aquabats to a degree; and even more so, the Locust, who undoubtedly dealt a great deal of influence to the grindingly noisy, fully-costumed, God-hating White Mice. But whereas the other bands of the bundle subsidize their outlandish attire with substantial musical talent, the White Mice are content to merely molest the listener with repetitive, almost industrial noise. Unquestionably, one of the beauties of music is that there are no rules dictating some ratio of style and substance, but the White Mice clearly lean on the former like a crutch. Despite the walls of droning inert noise that make up the compositions on Ganjahovahdose, there are some kind of cool things going on. The cryptic audio clips of movie and TV broadcasts sp

While graced with a bold alias universally recognized, the challenge of competing with iniquitous thespian and perennial SNL host Christopher Walken for the corresponding section of the encyclopedia is futile and bound to lead only to disappointment. Even so, this Walken puts on a memorable and impressive show through more than half the 11 songs that compose their self-titled full-length. A sound of equal parts bludgeoning hardcore punk à la a tighter, more crisp Akimbo and the Bay Area thrash sound of yesteryear, Walken fruitfully ignites a musically articulate intensity all too rare. The paradigm of this punk/metal dualism is the album opener “Watch It Burn,” which highlights both the triumphs and pitfalls of such an amalgamation. While the straightforward punk tenacity propels the songs forward at their most forceful, the dynamic metal riff interplay at times counterbalances and at times seems to nearly negate whatever energy had been amassed. The melodic metal parts often sound awk

If you thought it was an oxymoron or if you thought it was a myth, think again. If you thought it was something that could never happen, forget everything you know. It’s right here: Literate NYHC. And it’s nothing new. Killing Time have been at it for 20 years now. Killing Time, formed in 1988 as Raw Deal, have at one time or another throughout their history featured members of Judge, Token Entry, Sick of It All, Breakdown, Inside Out, Uppercut, Electric Frankenstein and Maximum Penalty, among others, and been on hiatus at least four times in two decades. Going steady again since 2005, Three Steps Back is the band’s first release since 1997’s The Method. While generally what one would expect from New York hardcore musically, Killing Time is perhaps a shade more melodic and with lyrical development that far exceeds the majority of their brethren. While some songs were penned by vocalist Anthony Comunale, some are credited to bassist Chris Skowronski, while the bulk of the lyrics were wr

You know what’s bullshit? When bands are so lazy and unoriginal with their name that they take--for their own--the name of an already established band both within their own country and, even worse, within their own genre of music. The example here is that it necessitates any reference to this Liturgy as “the Brooklyn black metal band,” not Liturgy “the Chicago death metal band.” No one would be dumb enough to name their Long Island skatepunk band Pennywise, so why can’t metalheads think of something new? Yeah, I know, there are two groups of Subhumans and a pair of Youth Brigades, but this was well before the internet in a time where such excuses could be legitimated. That’s the first thing about this that pisses me off. The second is more inherent in the style but no less distracting. I’ll admit without shame I’m no scholar of black metal, but it’s a little tedious being assaulted by an inexhaustible chain of blast beats song after song for 45 minutes. These compositions, almost by de

Minneapolis’ the Desert Vest first contacted me about doing a review of their album You Can’t Push a Ghost after my review of their friends Death to Our Enemies and their self-titled LP and supposing I would similarly enjoy their offering. Indeed, the two bands present a remarkably similar style of grungy garage rock, though the two-piece Desert Vest make far fewer attempts at pop appeal, apparently more concerned with crafting eerily textured sonic voyages than stringing together a chain of hooks. Singer Lucas Price’s dreary vocal deportment is the chief distinguishing characteristic of You Can’t Push a Ghost, as his mildly avant-garde lyrics are brought to life, or more appropriately, some zombie-like state. “For Jesus you cry / You cry your tears / His agency / The callous glue / Love ghost of youth / The nun she bought it / Broke of prophet” sings Price on opener “The Endless Agent.” The compositions are at their best when the unexcited vocals are juxtaposed with jarring dissonance

The extensive and turbulent existence of the Smoking Popes has, from its beginning, witnessed dramatic nascent growth, eventual deterioration, dissolution, reunion and subsequent rebirth. The 1990s left the band with four outstanding full-lengths, tours with the likes of Jawbreaker, Green Day and Morrissey, and by the turn of the decade, no more Smoking Popes for five years. What It’s Been a Long Day collects are some of the gems from that first period of activity that didn't find their way onto a full-length but have now received the remaster treatment and found a nice new home on Asian Man Records. Even though this compilation brings together material from various non-full length releases, most of the tracks have been previously available through one or more outlets. Nineteen of the 20 tracks were previously released via a series of splits, compilations and seven-inches, while many were re-released on the (now out-of-print) compilation 1991-1998 from drummer Mike Felumlee’s Doubl

It’s not clear how Trustkill was charged with the task of releasing the soundtrack to Saw VI (all the previous soundtracks had been released on Warner Bros.), but it seems plausible that certain steps were taken to ensure that despite the label’s general inclination towards hardcore and metalcore, the collection be able to capture the interest of the Saw/Hot Topic community with an inclusive array of dark music. Whether or not the task of song/artist selection was bestowed upon Trustkill is not known. While there are indications that it may have been so (Memphis May Fire, Outbreak, It Dies Today), there are plenty of artists here who have nothing to do with the type of music Trustkill usually puts out (Kittie, Mushroomhead, Nitzer Ebb). In the end, it doesn’t really matter who assembled this hodgepodge collection because it’s what we have to work with. To make one thing clear at the outset, this soundtrack actually does an okay job of balancing the hardcore inclusions one might expect

While a bulk of what Smog Veil puts out seems like unearthed relics from a time capsule, no less enjoyable but still noticeably dated (Rocket from the Tombs, Pistol Whip, Rubber City Rebels, etc.), Face Value’s cache, dusted off and compiled on Rode Hard, Put Away Wet sounds nearly as fresh and relevant in 2010 as it did 20 years ago. Now, that may be due in part to the relatively superior audio quality of the ‘90s, or it may just as likely be thanks to both the youth crew and thrash revival movements of recent, but for whatever reason Face Value’s style of hardcore doesn’t seem so far removed from what’s happening in punk circles today. Furthermore, Face Value demonstrates an adroit mastery of songwriting and musicianship all too rare in hardcore music. Psycho straight-edge vocalist Tony Erba (who would go on to play bass in Havoc Records mainstay 9 Shocks Terror) shouts above the mix in a throaty, youth-crew style that often breaks down to nearly rapping, while ax-man Anthony Brown s

While there aren't any photos of the dapper young gents of Bulldog Courage in the liner notes of this album, it’s probably safe to say they’re not the kind of folks you’d want to encounter in a poorly lit alleyway. Of course, that’s only based on the testosterone-filled anthems that comprise From Heartache to Hatred, but it’s hard to imagine a more telling testament than what’s heard here. For the most part, Bulldog Courage seem to come from the Blood for Blood school of hardcore that is by nature heavy, machismo, and certainly not straight-edge. Strangely though, there are some rather endearing tracks on this record, and rather than gloss over exactly what makes this album good and what makes it bad, I’m resorting to the ol’ Amazon.com individual song breakdown system, beloved by amateur critics everywhere. “Where I've Been”: A fairly trite but not horrible beginning to the album; the chorus of this paint-by-numbers hardcore is “I don’t know where I’m going / I sure know where

Niche compilations are always a little bit hit-or-miss, and even more so when they’re in a foreign language and comprised of never-before-heard bands. And while it’s not an entirely dubious identity in and of itself, the subtitle of Sweden’s Sverigemangel Punk & Hardcore Compilation effectively captures the gist here: “Brutal Musik För En Brutal Värld.” A joint venture between Anarkopunx Records and Container Rock Produktion, Sverigemangel piles together 39 tracks from almost 20 acts, none of whom are named Millencolin or Refused. And while Sweden’s world-renowned crust scene has spawned the likes of Wolfbrigade and Disfear, no such luminaries are present on this disc. Instead, there are acts like Ett Sista Andetag, 365 Dagar Av Synd, and Radioskugga. Some devout native or otherwise informed enthusiasts might recognize names like Kurt Olvars Rebeller and Rövsvett, but most probably won’t. The deceptively familiar Fromtheashes unconsciously stands out from the rest, but it’s more du

The collaboration Fight Dirty, a pairing of Erik Petersen’s Mischief Brew, and Guignol (French for “puppet”) is an interesting venture to say the least. Unlike a traditional split, each song on the album is a joint effort. Half the tunes are Erik Petersen backed by Guignol, and the other half are Guignol featuring Erik Petersen on guitar. If you’re guessing that this disc is one hell of a ride, go ahead and pat yourself on the back. Within the first 30 seconds of “The Tardy Barker,” it’s audibly apparent that no less than half the members of the instrumental Guignol are also in World/Inferno Friendship Society (Franz Nicolay on accordion and mandola and Peter Hess on clarinet, to be specific). Hess’ flittering clarinet twirls bounce playfully off the low end of George Rush’s tuba before John Bollinger (not that John Bollinger) kicks in a hurried punk rock rhythm and Petersen unwraps a nearly metal-sounding sounding guitar lead. Speaking of metal, the quartet (plus one) also tackles a m

From the first time I popped the black disc out of its plastic tray through the six or seven spins I gave it over the course of the weekend, and up until I ventured online to do a little research, I thought "Gone Bats" was the name of this band and planned on commenting how great a name it is for a psychobilly band. But alas, Gone Bats is the name of the album, and Stitch Hopeless & the Sea Legs is the unfortunate name this band bears. However, generally speaking, a band’s music is markedly more important than their name, and that’s where Stitch Hopeless & the Sea Legs (pardon the pun) have a leg up. Launching off the starting blocks, the first two cuts give the impression that Stitch Hopeless' forte is interpolating classic rock ‘n' roll tunes into raucous psychobilly wreckers. “Gonna Run” nips the Bill Haley and His Comets hit “Rock Around the Clock” while “Trash Like Me” seems to draw from CCR’s “Travelin’ Band,” though it could just as easily be aping Litt

Based on the following clues, please use inductive reasoning to determine the style of play found on this release: Ambush! ”Courage” ”Friendship” ”Out for Blood” Ear gauges Judge t-shirts Positivity If you guessed some variety of modern hardcore, you are correct, and capable of coming to obvious conclusions. If you ignored the clues and instead based your answer on the cover artwork and some previous awareness of Michale Graves’ stint in the Misfits, you are incorrect, but kudos for demonstrating useless esoteric knowledge. So yes, that is exactly what we have here. Neither fully committed to youth crew revival (not enough gang vocals), heavy hardcore (too many different chords) or nü-hardcore (not enough melody), Ambush! is a variance of fairly straightforward guitars, a moderate amount of double-bass drumming, and shouty, a-melodic vocals. The lyrics are generally fairly positive as modern hardcore goes, and generally pretty good. “Testing the Immortals Name” muses loudly, “What have

While it’s important to know who Cameran are, it’s also important to know who they aren't. For instance, they are not the Academy Award-winning director of Titanic and Avatar. They also aren’t the Grammy-nominated rapper responsible for hits like “Hey Ma” and “Oh Boy.” What they are is an incredibly talented, forward-thinking Austrian post-hardcore ensemble with the potential to properly blow away any listener expecting otherwise. Although the comparisons are actually less simplistic than conveyed here, it’s hard to imagine a band like Cameran had Refused not blazed a path for more abstract portrayals of hardcore years earlier in The Shape of Punk to Come. A Caesarean was even recorded in Umeå, Sweden and with Magnus Lindberg, who also worked with Refused. Cameran, though, is a level or two milder than Dennis Lyxzén and company even at their artsiest. While the opening track “Zombie Walk” pulsates with a rise-and-fall intensity and energetic shouts, its lyrics command gently, “Delv

Minnesota isn't generally considered a hotbed of ska music by any means. Sure, we have one of the world’s foremost pop-punk scenes alongside Gainesville and Chicago, an illustrious history of hardcore, and one of the best crust communities this side of the West Coast, but there have been few acts to emerge from what is actually a fairly vibrant ska scene in the nation’s icebox. This compilation seeks to change that, or at the very least shed some light on what’s going on ska-wise in the Gopher state. The compilation covers a spectrum of styles and takes on the traditional ska sound, ska-punk varieties, and those that fall elsewhere but still managed to find their way into the mix. Only about half the acts utilize a horn section on their contributions, though those without don’t necessarily sound lacking in any way. Hardcore Crayons and Moving to Pluto both eschew brass but work in incredibly catchy melodies in emo-targeted songs (“Not Another Emo Song” and “Emoshay,” respectively).