Live Review: Slam Dunk Festival 2019, Hatfield

Slam Dunk has been the first date of my festival season for the last three years now, and it's always a brilliant day out for those who love live music. Despite the recent unceremonious axing of the best date on the festival's schedule (that being the Midlands, which I usually attend), I made it a fourth year in a row on Sunday 26th. Over the course of the day I managed to catch 18 different bands, which might be a new record for me, so without further ado, here's how it went down.

Being put on as the first band on the bill at 11:45am is a pretty rough card to be dealt, but Cruel Hand (6/10) do their best to make the most of it. I only manage to catch the first fifteen minutes of their set, but in that time the band seem intent on forcing the crowd to wake up through the use of their own thrash-tinged hardcore alarm clock. Though they suffer from an expectedly muted reception from the early audience, the band themselves aren’t lacking any drive or energy as they blast through a few fairly simplistic tracks. As the first sound the festival site hears all day, Cruel Hand do an admirable job.

Photo by Angela Owens

Angel Du$t (6.5/10) are the first full set of the day, and it’s a solid showing overall from the Maryland punks-turned-power-poppers. The first few songs do fall slightly flat, with very little response from the crowd, but once they hit their stride with tracks off their recent album it all comes together. ‘Bang My Drum’, ‘On My Way’, and ‘Big Ass Love’ are all irresistibly positive singalongs which work surprisingly well sandwiched between the slices of breakneck-speed hardcore punk which bookend the performance. A modest pit finally breaks out for ‘Stepping Stone’ and ‘Toxic Boombox’ before the band leave the stage, and it’s obvious that Angel Du$t are clearly more accustomed to having some energy from the crowd to feed off of as they spring to life in response. It’s a decent set to kick off the day, and an early reminder that unadulterated fun will always be important in a festival setting.

Following on from Angel Du$t, I manage to catch the last few songs from perhaps the greebiest band of all time in Kublai Khan (7/10). There are two-steps and spin-kicks aplenty in the crowd, egged on enthusiastically by frontman Matt Honeycutt, and everything about the music which soundtracks the violence is gloriously ignorant. The final song in the setlist, ‘The Hammer’, overshadows all that came before it to a certain extent because it simply is perfect mosh material. I’d challenge anyone not to grin from the sidelines when that chopping riff first kicks in and the crowd shouts “BITCH!” in unison. The performance is a fitting celebration of the beatdown to warm the attendees up for what’s to come.

Kicking the chaos up into a different stratosphere, Knocked Loose (9/10) are one of my most anticipated bands of the day. It’s the fourth time I’ve seen the Oldham County upstarts, and it’s easily the best set from them I’ve witnessed so far. From the fantastic vocal interplay between Bryan Garris’ signature yelp and Isaac Hale’s growls, to the sheer amount of stage presence radiating from every member, to the ideal setlist choices they pull out the bag, everything amounts to a perfect storm for Knocked Loose. The band play two new songs off their upcoming album, A Different Shade Of Blue, and both stand out as set highlights – particularly ‘Mistakes Like Fractures’, which gets a worthy response from the fans in attendance. In fact, the band seem to pull the biggest Impericon stage crowd of the day; a testament to their dizzying rise to the top of hardcore, and a strong hint toward the potential they have to break through into the mainstream. Ending the set with the infamous “ARF ARF!” breakdown of ‘Counting Worms’ seems like the perfect choice for a festival slot, and it leaves me doubly excited for what's to come for this band.

To follow up such an incredible set, I elected to see Wage War (6/10) instead of the “surprise” Busted set on the other side of the arena, because I’m not some sort of weird masochist. One of the better bands to come out of the early-2010s wave of “polished” metalcore, Wage War put on a decent enough showing even if it isn’t necessarily anything to write home about. There's a big market for this stuff at Slam Dunk, but as Wage War blast through breakdown after breakdown it all seems to blur into one slightly, with nothing much to differentiate between tracks other than a different chorus each time. Still, closing track 'Stitch' (their best song by a mile) brings it all together in the end, and it provides a solid enough warm-up for what's to come at the other end of the tent.

Turnstile (9.5/10) hit the ground running in a big way as they take to the Impericon stage, opening up with ‘Generator’ and not letting up for a single second for the rest of their set. It’s a half-hour full of infectiously catchy, hard-hitting riffs from the world’s most exciting live band right now, and it just edges the best performance of the day for me. With Daniel Fang holding it all up on drums in a way only he can, the other members fly around the stage like ball lightning. Frontman Brendan Yates and bassist Franz Lyons in particular are hard to take your eyes off of, both as bouncy and energetic as songs like ‘Real Thing’ and ‘Drop’. It all inspires a frenzy in the crowd which you’d have to be mad not to get swept up in. Melodic songs like ‘Blue By You’ and ‘Moon’ get an equally raucous reception, presumably because they manage to stand up alongside more typically hardcore tracks with just as much undeniable power. By the time ‘Gravity’ brings the set to a close, I’m bruised, I’m out of breath, and I’m convinced that Turnstile are the future.

Next up is a band I’ve heard a whole load of good things about: The Interrupters (6.5/10). The ska-punk phenomenon takes to the Punk In Drublic stage like a duck to water, and it’s clear that they’ve already amassed a pretty strong following despite being the youngest band on the stage all day. There are sticky, repetitive hooks, classic syncopated guitars, and funk-inspired rhythms all pulled off with a smile and a wave of the LGBT+ flag, which in turn puts a smile on the faces of everyone in attendance. As someone who isn’t particularly a fan of the genre, though, their relentlessly positive show just seems like standard fare. It’s not unenjoyable by any stretch of the imagination – the charisma from the band’s members is enough to ensure that much – but honestly, with all the hype surrounding The Interrupters, I’m left feeling like I’ve missed something. Maybe I just hate fun.

Photo by Ricky Frankel

Continuing the theme of killer bands on the Impericon stage, Cancer Bats (8/10) do exactly what you’d expect them to do, and blow the roof off the place. Armed to the teeth with ragers old and new, the Toronto legends waste no time in tearing shit up with an opening run of ‘Brightest Day’, ‘Road Sick’, ‘Pneumonia Hawk’, and ‘Bricks & Mortar’.  The newer material sits perfectly between more tried-and-tested tracks, with 'Fear Will Kill Us All' in particular becoming an unexpected set highlight. The band are their usual lairy selves; Liam especially seems to be more rock n' roll than ever, hyping the crowd up in between songs in a manner which would make Brian Johnson blush. It's always great to see the people on stage have as much fun as those in the audience, and with Cancer Bats, that's undeniably the case. The set nears its close, and as the iconic, rumbling bassline for 'Sabotage' kicks in, it's clear that there's only one way this show can end: in utter chaos soundtracked by one of the best covers of all time. What a band.

Pagan (5/10), though, are another act who unfortunately don’t seem to live up to their hype in a live environment - but it’s not really their fault. For whatever reason, the sound on the Key Club stage is a little dodgy throughout the day, and Pagan’s set suffers the most for it; Nikki Bruman’s lead vocals are (whilst impressive) far too loud and subsequently drown out a lot of the instrumentation, at least from where I’m standing. It’s a shame, because I like the band’s stuff a lot on record, and their stage show is intriguingly occult-themed (which you’d be hard-pressed to miss considering the big fuck-off neon inverted cross they use as a backdrop). The members are all charismatic in their own way, and to their credit they tear through the set with mountains of energy, so I’ll be looking to catch Pagan again at some point on a better day. Their set on Sunday just wasn’t a great first impression for me.

Without a doubt, the most irritating part of the Slam Dunk Hatfield site is the ungodly queues at the bars, which I found, on average, were about half an hour long. To make things worse, this meant I was held captive to witness about half of a main stage slot from Simple Plan (3.5/10). The pop-punk stalwarts rely heavily on nostalgia to pull a crowd these days, and songs like ‘Shut Up’ are still serviceable when played to people who were born in the 90s, but on the whole the set is pretty dull and tiresome. It only starts to get actively bad when vocalist Pierre Bouvier lets the crowd know that the band is “still making music” (if you need to do that, maybe you shouldn’t be on the main stage at a festival), and they launch into some of the most out-of-touch pop-rock of the past few years. Mercifully, I manage to escape with some alcohol just as ‘Summer Paradise’ kicks off. Phew.

From the dregs of a dying era to the spark igniting a new one, Employed To Serve (8.5/10) rip through their Key Club stage set on the best form I’ve ever seen them. Uniformed in their own Eternal Forward Motion windbreakers, the Woking hardcore giants waste no time in laying waste to the place with their new material. What follows is a half-hour masterclass in how to play a festival set. Perhaps egged on a little by the fact that the previous band, SHVPES, decided to play an extra song and thus force ETS to come on later than planned, the pure aggression from every single person on stage is palpable, with Sammy Urwin and Justine Jones constantly commanding the crowd to move to the sound of their brutal, groove-coated anthems. Songs like 'Owed Zero' (that guitarwork!) and 'Force Fed' (for a portion of which I am stood atop the crowd) sound even more powerful live than on record, and setlist staples 'Good For Nothing' and 'I Spend My Days' don't lose an ounce of weight even in comparison. Employed To Serve are this nation's best band right now, and they won't let anyone forget it.

Gallows (8.5/10) have been absent from playing shows and putting out records for the last four or five years, and as a result I have yet to see the legends of UK hardcore live, even with Wade MacNeil on vocals. Their return to Slam Dunk is probably the most eagerly-awaited set of the day for me, and as it turns out, my excitement is not misguided. Save for a slightly sloppy (if amusing) start, with MacNeil calling for his vocals to be turned up before being clocked in the head by a stray guitar, Gallows live up to the wait in a big way. Kicking off proceedings with Grey Britain classics 'Misery' and 'London Is The Reason', the old material is very much the focus of the setlist here. 'Abandon Ship', 'Come Friendly Bombs', 'In The Belly of a Shark', and 'Orchestra of Wolves' all get a play in between newer tracks, much to my absolute delight, but the band still aren't living in the past. MacNeil vocalises his support for "throwing milkshakes at fascists" halfway through the set, which gets a big cheer from fans (myself included) before Gallows launch back into their brand of furious hardcore punk. With the musicianship perfectly anarchic throughout, it's a glorious return from a true staple of the British heavy music scene. Hopefully they're back for good.

Photo by Jim Wright

I’m not an OG Bad Religion (8/10) fan, but after seeing them at Download last year and being instantly hooked, I had to catch the first twenty minutes of their triumphant set on the Punk In Drublic stage here. Though the L.A. icons are coming up on 40 years as a band, they fire off classic after classic with the energy and enthusiasm of musicians half their age. Vocalist Greg Graffin is simply on fire, playing off the crowd and introducing songs with a wry, knowing smile befitting of a man who has spent most of his life fronting one of punk's most significant and consistent bands. With tracks like 'Fuck You', 'Stranger Than Fiction', and 'I Want To Conquer The World' spanning decades, no member of the audience is left disappointed, and I'm left with an incentive to dig into the Bad Religion back catalogue.

Now, hands up here; I’ll always be biased when I review Glassjaw (9/10). Not only do I consider them to be one of the best and most important bands of all time, but their music has meant more to me over time than 90% of other artists I love. Saying all that, though, Glassjaw are on genuinely brilliant form at Slam Dunk. Daryl Palumbo moves around the stage like he’s made of water, bellowing out the choruses of ‘Ape Dos Mil’ and ‘Pink Roses’ (along with the diehard fans down the front) as if he’s just discovered new meaning in them, and he really seems to be enjoying himself throughout the set. Justin Beck’s guitarwork is, as always, absolutely staggering, and the rhythm section is spot on to tie it all together. Though the setlist doesn't contain any surprises, it doesn't particularly need to (as much as I'd like to see 'Stuck Pig'); the way the songs are played keeps them fresh, and because of it, I've hardly stopped listening to Glassjaw for a minute since this set. As Daryl leaves the stage with a "thank you" and a kiss blown out to the audience, I'm once again struck by how special this band are. We shouldn't take them for granted.

Watching the last twenty minutes of The Menzingers (9/10) underneath a double-rainbow sunset is probably the closest thing to a religious experience I’ll ever have, so it’s a good thing the soundtrack was befitting. With joyous singalongs to the likes of 'I Don't Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore' and 'Gates', it's pretty safe to say that this is one of the best sets of the day, even if I haven't managed to see it from the start. Unfortunately, during 'Nice Things' (the planned penultimate song in the setlist), the sound is suddenly, gracelessly cut off, much to the ire of the audience. It takes a while for The Menzingers to comprehend what's going on, but when they do, they abandon their microphones and lead the crowd in an impromptu a capella rendition of the last half of the song. It's bittersweet but beautiful, and only soldifies the love I have for the Scranton quartet. 

The Slam Dunk lineup’s biggest weakness this year was its headliners, and I didn’t particularly care for any of the three final bands on the bill. Despite this, I opted to give them each a chance and split the last hour of the day into thirds.

First up were NOFX (6/10), who were pretty much exactly as I expected; their reputation precedes them even though I’ve never caught them live before. Blasting through short, energetic punk tracks with what felt like little comedy skits in between from Fat Mike, the band put on a solid enough show for their many loyal fans. Again, though, their style isn't necessarily my wheelhouse, and so personally I didn't get too much pleasure from the twenty minutes of NOFX I saw. They were, however, more enjoyable than Bullet For My Valentine (5.5/10). Any band who thinks it's acceptable to bolster their set with a five-minute drum solo in the place of a song goes down massively in my estimation, and that's exactly what BFMV do straight after a decent rendition of 'The Last Fight'. From that point onwards, the focus on their more recent material is enough to drive me away - it's just pretty straightforward, meat-and-potatoes metal.

Against all odds, then, I manage to end my Slam Dunk 2019 watching the last fifteen minutes of All Time Low (6.5/10), a band who are very much not for me. Out of the three headliners, though, I thought they actually put on the best show overall. They're unbearably pandering, yes, and I'm definitely not the target demographic, but between the stage show and occasional throwback bop, the boyband-esque pop-rock institutions close out the festival in suitable style. Let's hope we get A Day To Remember in next year though, hey?

Photo nicked from Slam Dunk Festival Facebook page

Live Review: Feed The Rhino/Stake at The Underworld, Camden

When I first started going to gigs at the ripe old age of fourteen, Kent-based rockers Feed The Rhino were one of the first bands that really blew me away in a live environment. With shirtless, tattooed, bearded frontman Lee Tobin orchestrating unprecedented chaos in the pit whilst stood atop the crowd himself, it was unlike anything I’d seen up to that point, and because of it they mean a whole lot to me as an individual. I’ve seen them five times altogether, and on Friday I attended their last ever show. It managed to epitomise every reason I’ve loved them over the years.

There were three support acts for the Rhino on their farewell gig, but I only managed to catch the last one: Stake (7.5/10). I knew nothing about the band beforehand, and it turns out that was because they’d spent the last 14 years being known as Steak Number Eight before going through a reinvention just last year. This is their first club show with the new moniker, and the Belgian sludge-metallers put on a brilliant showing. Despite the sparse crowd, each member’s enthusiasm and subsequent stage presence is undeniable, especially in the case of the wild, distinctively-mustachioed frontman Brent Vanneste, who at one point notices that his spit is slowly dripping down from the ceiling and fires another glob up over guitarist Cis Deman. Stake have a unique and original sound which sits somewhere between the heavier Reuben material and a band like Cult of Luna, and it's honestly viscerally exciting at points.

When you see Feed The Rhino (8.5/10), though, you pretty much know what to expect; beer, sweat, and big fuck-off riffs. Once again, they don’t disappoint a single bit. There’s still a slightly muted initial response from the crowd as the band kick off proceedings with ‘Featherweight’ (a single off their most recent album), but once they rip into their more well-known material (starting with 'Nothing Lost'), the Underworld instantly becomes a cauldron of flailing bodies. Tobin is at the forefront, seemingly unable to go five minutes without climbing onto the front of the crowd in order to inspire more lunacy. Flanking him are metal’s lairiest brothers, James and Sam Colley, along with Oz Craggs, a force of nature on bass, and Chris Kybert, in constant motion on the kit at the back. Between them, they put on the best Feed the Rhino set I’ve ever seen.

There are countless special moments over the course of the hour-long show: fan favourite ‘The Burning Sons’ sees one last epic wall of death; the chorus of ‘Tides’ is given a beautifully drunk choral rendition by every member of the crowd; ‘New Wave’ sees a glorious, venue-wide “jump-the-fuck-up” moment that would make Slipknot envious. Perhaps the most memorable part of the gig, though, comes when Tobin pauses for a few words between songs and thanks the audience for their continued support. “We’re just five pissheads” he says, going on to explain that the band has always been tied together through a mutual love of playing music and “getting fucked uuuuuupppp”. With that, the band’s career is summarised absolutely wonderfully.

The final few minutes of the night culminate in each member of the band abandoning the stage and flinging themselves onto the crowd while Kybert decimates his drum kit in the background. Feed the Rhino then storm off the stage in proper rockstar fashion for the final time, returning only to shower multiple cans of beer over the cheering, chanting fans (myself included, though I would’ve preferred cider).  It’s a fitting end to what has been ten years of gigging dominance for one of Britain’s most unfairly underrated bands. Long live the fuckin’ rhino.

Albums of the Week: 10/05/19 (Employed to Serve, Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties, We Never Learned To Live)

Employed to Serve – Eternal Forward Motion

9.5/10

Best Tracks: Beneath It All, Force Fed, Reality Filter, Owed Zero

FFO: Code Orange, Rolo Tomassi, Deftones

Woking’s own Employed To Serve have, in recent years, become the band in underground British metal. Their 2017 rager The Warmth of a Dying Sun was heralded as a modern classic upon its release, garnering album of the year awards left, right, and centre. In the years since, the band have become one of the most talked-about names in heavy music, and subsequently signed to Spinefarm Records.

On Eternal Forward Motion, ETS have taken the groove-laden hardcore of their sophomore record and simply improved on it in every possible way: it’s tighter, heavier, more technically proficient, and more explorative within their sound. Vocalist Justine Jones is in a league of her own, nailing every single word in her own distinct style with crystal-clear articulation and a gutful of fury. Instrumentally, too, the album is unbelievably brilliant, with feverish drumming and thunderous bass laying the foundation for a masterclass in the art of the riff. Lead guitarist Sammy Urwin (who also does a good chunk of the vocals here) knows his shit, and so the guitarwork all across the record is its biggest draw; the groove is stepped up, and songs like ‘Force Fed’ come close to rivalling the catchiness of ‘I Spend My Days’ (the big-hitter on Warmth).

The record also sees Employed To Serve experiment with clean vocal hooks more boldy than on their previous work. This can be best heard on the spellbinding closer, ‘Bare Bones On A Blue Sky’, which has echoes of one of last year’s best releases in Time Will Die and Love Will Bury It (from former label-mates Rolo Tomassi). Of course, that’s not to say the band aren’t still as heavy as a blue whale with a stomach full of concrete. There are countless moments and breakdowns on this album which make me screw up my face like I’ve just smelled something foul, and it’s absolutely glorious – from ‘Dull Ache Behind My Eyes’ in all its beat-down glory to the deranged, mesmerising, Dillinger Escape Plan-esque lead guitar passages of ‘Owed Zero’ (my personal favourite on the album).

There are very few bands in Britain who deserve as much unanimous praise as Employed To Serve, and thankfully, they still seem to be getting it. With a front cover of Kerrang!, countless 5/5 and 10/10 reviews, and a number one spot on the iTunes metal chart under their belts just in the past week, Eternal Forward Motion marks yet another career high-point  for the band. It’s my album of the week, and I can guarantee it’ll be pretty high up in my end-of-year list too.

Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties – Routine Maintenance

8/10

Best Tracks: Just Sign the Papers, Bloodied Up in a Bar Fight, Rosa & Reseda

FFO: The Wonder Years, The Hotelier, Bruce Springsteen

Dan ‘Soupy’ Campbell spends most of his time focusing on being the frontman of the best pop-punk band of all time (yeah, I said it) in The Wonder Years, but his more folky side-project in Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties is not to be overlooked.

For the unfamiliar, all of the Aaron West material is tied together by a beautiful narrative focused around the life of the eponymous protagonist, a role wholeheartedly played by Campbell himself. To put it mildly, the character has been through some shit thus far; 2014’s We Don’t Have Each Other details the worst year of West’s life, from his divorce to the loss of his father. This record, then, has been described as his “redemption arc”, through which he fights against the unhealthy coping mechanisms of alcoholism and social isolation. The way this narrative is woven throughout the sound and lyricism of this record is properly impressive.

Routine Maintenance boasts some incredible songwriting, and countless hooks which are simultaneously infectious and heart-wrenching. The chorus of  ‘Just Sign the Papers’ will stay with you for days on end, with West baring his soul in regard to the divorce process as he sings “Let's find an end to the gloom/I'm sorry for every single thing I put you through”. Soupy’s voice is, as always, note-perfect and bursting at the seams with emotion, lending the whole thing another layer of depth and resonance. You’ll find that the choruses stick with you both because of their brilliant grasp on the melodies and the actual lyrics which form them.

Sonically, Routine Maintenance finds a sweet spot between the earnest, lyrically-involved pop-punk of The Wonder Years and a classic, heartfelt, folky Americana sound. Dynamics play a big role here, in that it's often able to shift from driven and passionate (on something like ‘Rosa & Reseda’) to subtle and considered (in ‘Wildflower Honey’). The use of brass and horn sections is reminiscent of some of Bruce Springsteen’s earlier tracks; ‘Runnin’ Toward the Light’ sounds like ‘Born To Run’ for a new generation of (much more emo) kids, right down to the horn melody. It’s exciting, it’s touching, and it’s impossible to listen to just once.

We Never Learned To Live – The Sleepwalk Transmissions

8/10

Best Tracks: Permafrost, Luma Non Luma, Owari

FFO: Black Peaks, Rolo Tomassi, Hell Is For Heroes

In yet another stellar release from Britain’s greatest record label, Holy Roar, Brighton-based outfit We Never Learned To Live have just dropped one of the year’s best concept albums in the form of The Sleepwalk Transmissions.

The follow-up to 2015’s Silently, I Threw Them Skyward is a meticulously-crafted post-hardcore project which leans heavily on the “post” without scrimping too much on the “hardcore”. There’s headbanging, doomy rhythm guitar and bass counterbalanced with lead guitar glazed in lingering, ghostly reverb, which often drifts off to create its own ambient soundscape after a particularly heavy section. Other parts of the record evoke 2000s brit-rock like Hell Is For Heroes and YOURCODENAMEIS:MILO, finding a sweet spot between energised riffing and fantastically British-sounding vocal harmonies. In fact, the vocal work all across The Sleepwalk Transmissions is engaging and unique, as frontman Seán Mahon is able to switch between furiously emotive screams and beautiful melodies on a dime (see ‘Luma Non Luma’).

Though it’s only 44 minutes long, The Sleepwalk Transmissions feels, in many ways, like quite an epic feat. Through the band’s use of post-rock tropes, ambient soundscapes, complex lyrical themes, and structural experimentation, they achieve a feeling of impressive scope which mirrors the record’s cover artwork: it feels like an adventure onto a new, technologically advanced alien planet. Indeed, the concept of this album is based in sci-fi, with track titles like ‘Android Anaesthetist’ and ‘Wounds Like Wires’ setting the scene for the rich narrative and metaphors within their lyrics.

The Sleepwalk Transmissions looks to be the breakthrough record for We Never Learned To Live, and rightly so. They've created a niche for themselves in "sci-fi post-hardcore", and their unwavering commitment to it deserves a whole lot of respect.

Albums of the Week: 03/05/19 (Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes, Fury, The Physics House Band)

Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes – The End of Suffering

8/10

Best Tracks: Love Games, Angel Wings, Kitty Sucker

FFO: Royal Blood, Nothing But Thieves, Marmozets

When I first heard Frank Carter, he was ripping his vocal chords to shreds on Gallows’ Orchestra of Wolves, an album I still consider one of the best I’ve ever heard. Since those days, Frank has grown and evolved (both as an artist and as a person), and it seems that The End of Suffering summarises the changes of these past 10 years or so pretty perfectly for Britain’s greatest rockstar.

The third album from the Rattlesnakes sees a change in the band’s sound yet again. It almost completely does away with the venom of their debut, and instead follows the path laid down by songs from Modern Ruin such as ‘Wild Flowers’ and ‘Thunder’, but still feels a lot more thoughtful and purposefully minimalistic than the sophomore attempt overall. The brilliant contribution of lead guitarist and co-songwriter Dean Richardson cannot be overstated here, with his hand in the record’s production and instrumental elements. Whilst the guitar and bass is still massively fuzzed-up for the most part, it’s not necessarily employed in the way it would be in a punk band; instead, the staccato riffing evokes the style Royal Blood, an artist with similarly huge choruses.

Indeed, the simple catchiness of the hooks all over The End of Suffering is its biggest strength, especially in regard to the album’s slower moments. ‘Love Games’ could be a Bond theme, in all its sultry, piano-led, Winehouse-esque glory, and ‘Angel Wings’ is an affecting slow-build with a refrain which is far from easily forgotten. Of course, Carter’s typically rowdy side still comes across on songs like ‘Crowbar’ (“Fuck ‘em all, they don’t tell us who we are”) and ‘Tyrant Lizard King’, even if it’s conveyed more through the lyrical content than the actual sound.

The title track of The End of Suffering is its final song, and it’s a beautiful, heartfelt ballad dedicated to Carter’s daughter, Mercy. The closing refrain finds him wishing that “[her] happiness will be the end of suffering”, providing some incredibly poignant context to the album’s name, and it’s all made even more touching with the inclusion of an audio snippet of the frontman and his daughter laughing together. This closer reinforces the idea that the record is an ode to how far Frank Carter has come since his bitter, spiteful youth, and it feels like the conclusion to a 13-year-long journey of which every single step has been compelling for a different reason. Even as he admits he still struggles (on ‘Anxiety’ and ‘Angel Wings’), there are underlying themes of genuine hope and self-love on this album which sets it apart from anything else the artist has put his name to.

The End of Suffering is an incredibly personal album, and it serves as a reminder that we, as a country, have a legitimate national treasure on our hands in the form of this unapologetically punk-rock cult of personality. I might still prefer the raw energy of Blossom, but it can’t be denied that this is the album Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes were destined to make at this point in their career. The End of Suffering is my album of the week.

Fury – Failed Entertainment

7.5/10

Best Tracks: Angels Over Berlin, New Years Days, Crazy Horses Run Free

FFO: Minor Threat, Ecostrike, Turnstile

Hardcore punk has experienced somewhat of a revival in recent years, at least on a more mainstream level. Bands like Turnstile, Knocked Loose, and even Ho99o9 have all brought the mantra to the fore in one way or another, and it seems that the genre’s reach is being felt as far away as the big names of the industry.

Orange County punks Fury, with their steadfast DIY ethos and classic influences, are a timely reminder of hardcore’s roots, and how brilliant it can be in its purest form. Failed Entertainment is peppered with moments which sound like Minor Threat or Black Flag with a chunkier, more robust production job; from the two-step and double-time passages in ‘America’ to the short-lived solo on ‘Birds of Paradise’. There’s inspiration from modern hardcore, here, as well, in that there’s an irresistible bounce to the riffing across the record akin to Turnstile’s Time & Space, even if it does replace the good-time disco vibe with a more outright mosh-pit punk feel.

Ultimately, the record really comes into its own at the close. ‘New Years Days’ and ‘Crazy Horses Run Free’ both stand out for their melodic elements (whether it be in the guitarwork or vocal performances), and it lends everything a sense of individuality and uniqueness which, it could be argued, the rest of the album lacks a little (save for ‘Vacation’, the record’s third song, which almost sounds like early Culture Abuse). With 11 songs clocking in at 27 minutes, Failed Entertainment is an exercise in efficient, down-to-earth hardcore punk songwriting. It’s exciting, it’s rugged, and it’s… well, furious.

The Physics House Band – Death Sequence (EP)

7.5/10

Best Tracks: I usually give three songs here but this EP is four songs long, so just listen to all of it.

FFO: Three Trapped Tigers, God Is An Astronaut, KOKOROKO

The Physics House Band have long been on my radar as a curious fan of psychedelic, jazz, post, and math rock, but I’d never gone in on their previous work. As such, their new EP, Death Sequence, is the first I’ve heard of the Brighton quintet, and it’s as lovely as I’d expected… but, thankfully, with more horns.

This EP consists of four tracks, each serving as a different step on a journey; the first is a luscious, swirling trip which combines the beautiful aforementioned horn section with some chunky riffage and creative effects trickery, dipping in and out of intensity with structural expertise. In the second song, the jazz influence is more apparent, and its end is an explosion of colour that eventually suddenly gives way to an ambient third part, which itself features a rather unexpected spoken word piece by Solihull comic Stewart Lee – a seemingly questionable decision which actually ends up being oddly compelling, as he rants about his upbringing and heritage. The climax finds the EP ending with a vortex of complex guitar and synth passages which gradually build to an abrupt stop, pulling the listener out of their experience without mercy or warning.

To some, this project might often seem like background listening, but I'd defy anyone to listen to it all the way through and tell me it doesn't absolutely demand their full attention. Death Sequence may feel like a night at the world’s weirdest working men’s club on two tabs of acid, but it’s an enthralling listening experience because of it. More than anything else, this third “proper” release from The Physics House Band is a testament to their artistic capabilities.