The RadioActivist

London, England’s legendary Oi! boys the Business have been cranking out working-class punk rock longer than many of us have been alive, and despite periodic bouts of inactivity, have remained a productive musical force for 30 years. Doing the Business is the band’s first release on Sailor’s Grave, a union that seemed bound to happen and is, frankly, a little surprising it took this long. Obvious statements aside, this release combines a four-track studio EP with six live tracks, five of which were recorded at the London’s Marquee Club in 1982. Why they didn't feature all the live tracks from the same show is anyone’s guess, but the live tracks here aren't the main thrust of the release anyway. The studio portion of the disc is made up entirely of covers, which is surprising since the release hasn't been marketed as a covers album at all. First, English rock band Status Quo has some punk energy injected into their 1973 single “Mean Girl,” which makes for a pretty good openi

This Moment in Black History is a difficult act to analyze, not merely due to their crosscutting stylistic directions or unorthodox structures, but for their entire approach as it pertains to art and substance. In what might be deemed the burgeoning style of hipster hardcore (or ”blipster” hardcore depending on whether you agree with the New York Times coining cultural terms), TMIBH joins the ranks of those such as Pissed Jeans, the Death Set and latter-day Fucked Up who dabble in experimentalism as much as raw energy. On Public Square, the sense of irony in songs like “Forest Whitaker (In an Uncompromising Role)” and “Theophylline Valentine” bubbles over much more so than any Minor Threat, Bad Brains or even late-era Black Flag. Sure, at times TMIBH can be rather straightforward, like in “MFA” where the simple message of the chorus is “It’s what I worked so hard for.” The verse is another story, though, spewing cryptically “250 miles down south / Put that chili back in your mouth / Fa

Of all the retro styles bands are aping today and turning into their own, what sound is conspicuously absent in releases of the past few years is that of the early Southern California punk scene. No, not the SoCal hardcore of Black Flag, Uniform Choice or the Circle Jerks, but the quirky, quasi-melodic punk of bands like the Vandals, the Angry Samoans and D.I.. That’s what Adams Dagger has masterfully revisited, and it should come as no surprise that they happen to hail from Long Beach, California. At times amusing and at times disturbing, the most prevailing set of adjectives to describe Adams Dagger’s self-titled release would be “delightfully catchy yet unrefined.” Not just in their name (an 18th century slang term for “penis”) but even more so in their music and lyrics. With simple, melodic basslines and straight-ahead drumming, Adams Dagger doesn't need to soak their approach in allegiance to the past to recall the formative years of California punk. Whether it’s a brutally op

Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers were “Born to Lose.” Social Distortion was “Born to Lose.” The Bouncing Souls, Johnny Cash, and even Ray Charles were all “Born to Lose” via Ted Daffan and the Texans outlaw classic. But Austin, Texas’ Born to Lose was born to bruise, because this shit gets deep. Not just “deep” from a philosophical standpoint (which it really isn't), but sonically, with a thick low end and a weighty wall of sound-like approach. The production on The Dreams of Kids also helps obscure whatever distinct stylistic boundaries might be imposed. Though the aesthetic tendencies might have pointed to street punk from a surface standpoint, the full, beefy sound at times more closely resembles hardcore, while multiple points in the album have the delivery and lyrical motifs of early Strung Out. The record itself is a tad lopsided, starting slowly with the cliché-ridden “Fall on Your Sword” and title track, but ending with the phenomenal “The Swing,” “Last Chance Boys” an

The Swingin’ Utters are back on the attack with their first new studio material since 2003’s Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones. It may be coming a little late, and it may not be the full-length I was promised (LP is due out this fall), but it’s yet another great addition to the already overflowing Utters catalog. The three songs that comprise the Brand New Lungs seven-inch are all essentially entrenched in the same hybrid of street punk, power-pop, and pogo elements. While it’s not unusual for the Swingin’ Utters to mix things up and move in a different direction, it is somewhat atypical of recent times that they cluster songs of a similar sound together as they've done here. The EP opens with the title track, a bouncy, darting punk number that proclaims “I’m gonna find myself some brand new lungs / Because these ones are black and tired / I’ll use them well, and mind my health / Think nothing but pure thoughts." The track hits its stride with a gorgeous hamonic brid

Before the label’s impending dormancy and announcement of hiatus, one of Punk Core Records’ best releases was the Scarred’s No Solution. Rather than the label’s typical hardcore street punk of the Casualties, Career Soldiers and A Global Threat, the Scarred embraced a more traditional street punk sound rooted in pervasive melodies and mid-tempo rhythms. Fast-forward to 2009 and the Scarred had jumped ship for the more active Basement Records and gone from aping Cock Sparrer and the Business to aping mid-'90s Green Day. With high-quality production and a snotty faux-nasal vocal approach not unlike that of Billie Joe Armstrong, At Half Mast is close to having crossover appeal. If you don’t believe me, try this: Play the Scarred’s “2009” for your undiscerning friends and see if it isn't immediately assumed to be Green Day. The same would probably work for the catchy tunes of “Vice” and “Panic!” as lead singer Justin Willits spouts "Paranoia, mind control, but what can I do? /

Somewhere between raw DIY hardcore, crust and slightly slower, extended, powerviolence is Short Changed, a California quintet that lives up to its name. Resembling more the hardcore of the early 1980s than most of those claiming to represent the genre today, Short Changed doesn't entirely throw back to the past. Lyrically, many of the album’s topics address present-day issues, such as the verbal chiding of “Reinventing Against Me!” and the four-second “Morally Bankrupt,” which simply proclaims, “Two girls, one cup, ‘nuff said.” The former is a bit more derisive, lashing “Don’t tell me what to do / I've got it on my own” to a breakneck snare rhythm. The band also drops a cover of “Hard as Fuck,” an Against All Authority song from Destroy What Destroys You that came out in the mid-'90s. Still, there are plenty of themes that are just as relevant today as they would have been 30 years ago. The 45-second “Pipebomb Party” is one of the band’s more incisive sets of lyrics, even i

Despite their somewhat cutesy name that might remind some of us of a certain cartoon our sisters used to make us watch in the 1980s, the UK’s Strawberry Blondes play a rough, melodic brand of punk rock that falls somewhere between Rancid and Anti-Flag. Admittedly, much of the album is fairly standard anthemic and slightly sloganeering street-styled punk (see “Social Control,” “Revolution Radio”). However, there are some effective guest spots on Fight Back that give the album some much needed deviation and break up the homogeny a bit. The most significant of such appearances in regards to the album’s variety comes from New York’s King Django of the Stubborn All-Stars and Skinnerbox on the horn-punk number “Manners and Respect.” Joey LaRocca of the Briggs drops by the four-and-a-half-minute “Goodbye Inspiration” to help out a bit on the hooks, though the repetitive formula keeps the track from really flourishing. While there are some straight-ahead punk tracks that stand out among the re

Fresh off the heels of their phenomenal contribution to the recent Swingin’ Utters tribute, Seattle, Washington’s the Hollowpoints make their Sailor’s Grave debut with one of the best and most surprising releases yet this year. It probably shouldn't come as a surprise, though, as the band has amassed a dizzying 10 releases in the last five years (on labels like Dirtnap and Disaster Records), and evidently proven enough to tour alongside legendary bands like the Business and the U.S. Bombs. With vocals by lead singer Matt Mckinney that recall Dillinger Four’s Erik Funk, an undulating skatepunk rhythm that rarely lets up and an aesthetic lyrical and stylistic approach that puts them alongside bands like One Man Army and the Briefs, the Hollowpoints are no easy act to pigeonhole. Perhaps the most discernible quality the band puts forth on Old Haunts on the Horizon is their seemingly unyielding ability to garnish their compositions with pleasing progressions and candy-coated melodies t

From 2002 to 2007, Cheap Sex was one of the best, most incisive and uncompromising hardcore street punk bands in the scene. At a time when street punk was booming and the look and attitude was becoming more important than the music and dissent, Cheap Sex put forth hard-nosed leftist political anthems through the heart of the Bush administration and military operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. This DVD tells the tale of Cheap Sex, from the van crashes and heroin addiction to struggles in the studio and constant lineup changes, with a smattering of live footage and fan interviews interlacing the documentary. The story picks up with frontman Mike Virus leaving New York and his old band the Virus and heading out to San Diego to pursue a job offer. Initially imagining the band as a ’77 pogo-style act, Cheap Sex immediately morphed into an all-out hardcore street punk band upon writing their first song “Eyes See All.” In the documentary, the band credits their ability to get on big shows wit

There aren't many free clues regarding the nature of this release, with nothing provided but the CD, liner notes and a cryptic one-sheet that describes a tall tale account of members of the Ramones and Beach Boys recording an album together following a happenstance meeting in 1980. Said album was then allegedly discovered “in a cave, deep in the East German pampa,” and is precisely what is presented here by the Rämouns on Rockaway Beach Boys. What the Rämouns do is play Beach Boys songs in the same style as the Ramones. And with the same clothes and hair as the Ramones. But since the Ramones already played many songs in a similar style as the Beach Boys (albeit with a “1-2-3-4!” launch), the Rämouns are essentially a derivative of a derivative. That’s not to say Rockaway Beach Boys isn't an enjoyable listen by any means, though. It’s extremely fun hearing what the Ramones playing “Help Me, Rhonda” may have sounded like, along with fantastic versions of “I Get Around” and “In My

What do you get when you combine luminaries from two of the most influential protopunk bands in history, aged 35 years since the pinnacle of their influence? The answer, though more complex than stated simply here, is about what you would expect. Batusis is, at its core, legendary guitarist of Rocket from the Tombs and the Dead Boys Cheetah Chrome and founding member of the New York Dolls, Sylvain Sylvain. Adding to the glam-punk-rock-'n'-roll resume of the Batusis co-frontmen is the addition of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts’ rhythm section, Thommy Price on drums and Enzo Penizzotto on bass. But back to the initial inquiry: It would be hard to imagine aging glam-punks writing songs that weren't steeped in the blues scale, and that’s exactly what you get with the opener, a cover of Davie Allan and the Arrows’ staple "Blues' Theme," complete with replica motorcycle revving. It also wouldn’t be surprising if there was lewd, fairly objectifying fawning about a way

The four-way split known as the Human EP is the product of a joint effort between Rodent Popsicle and Crash Assailant Records, featuring Millions of Dead Cops, the Restarts, Phobia, and Embrace the Kill. Not surprisingly, the four songs combine for a healthy mix of dissent from bands generally known for their musical activism. Millions of Dead Cops begin Side A with “Patriot Asshole,” in which, as usual, Dave Dictor packs a mouthful into each verse: “Donut-eating, piggy-squeeling, patriotic asshole / Commie-hating, fag-bashing, homophobic asshole / Roofie-spiking, woman-scaring, date-rape fucking asshole!” London’s the Restarts contribute a bitingly pessimistic scorcher called “Dead Inside,” which takes aim at selling out to the financial industry: “How come there’s global starvation? / How come there’s wars to fight / It’s the same system you work for of greedy corporate genocide." Side B opens with Phobia and their trademark style of anarcho-grind on arguably the best song of th

Crookedhook is a four-piece punk band from Toronto, Ontario. Apparently, they also play ska-punk from time to time, but for this five-song EP, they've turned the ska-punk to skatepunk with clear production and a polished sound. Steve Rawles, formerly of famed Canadian punkers Belvedere and currently of This Is a Standoff, contributes guest vocals for the opening track, “Breathe Pollution.” The lyrics of the song decry unrestrained development and overconsumption, asking, “How far will suburban sprawl make its way across the nation? How long ‘til we lose it all? All vegetation trampled in time.” “Ends Meet” packs a bit more of a hook (err...crooked hook), while “Size Zero” takes aim at using fashion to make up for shitty music. The band incorporates a unique semi-march rhythm on “Don’t Think, Just Swallow,” which is executed well, and adds a level of variety to the EP that might not otherwise exist. The lyrics follow along with the title, which mock, “Don’t think, don’t chew, just s

The Swingin’ Utters are one of the best punk bands ever, hands down. "Best," of course, encapsulating fully their high-quality musicianship led by multi-instrumentalist extraordinaire Darius Koski, their incredible songwriting and mastery of styles, and the arcane lyricism of street punk poet Johnny “Peebucks” Bonnel. After 20 years of touring and timeless records, it’s high time for a tribute to one punk’s most accomplished mainstays. Red Scare to the rescue. Ranging from high-profile bands like Dropkick Murphys, Fucked Up, Off with Their Heads and Street Dogs to lesser-known acts as Joe Coffee, Outlaw Dance Society, Moonshine and the Oozzies with a bunch of punk stalwarts like Teenage Bottlerocket, Left Alone, the Forgotten and Cobra Skulls also in the mix, Untitled 21: A Juvenile Tribute to Swingin’ Utters is one of the most capable and well-selected punk tributes in a long time. Despite the stellar overall assembly of the tribute, it begins with one of the more questionab

Don’t mention Brody Dalle, don’t mention Brody Dalle, don’t mention Brody Dalle... As much as I’d like to avoid falling into a trap of generalizing punk bands with female singers, there’s no way to escape the comparisons between L.A.’s Fiction Reform and the Distillers of the exact same locale. Revolution in the Palms of the Weak is nine bursts of female-fronted fury plus one meandering acoustic number in the form of “Come Back Home,” a minor-keyed creeper that stands in stark contrast to the rest of the album’s more abrasive approach. ”Whites in their Eyes” is a militant-sounding but expressly non-militant anthem of an opener, one in which lead singer Brenna shouts, “I walk the narrow path of discipline and perseverance / If what I want is truly written / I must not jump the gun, I’ll stand my ground and hold my fire / ’Til I see the whites in their eyes.” “Small Silhouette,” which also appeared on the recent Protect 2 benefit compilation, follows suit, with even more of a Distillers