At least, that’s what The Puncturists kept telling me as I set up the mics. Their song I’m Not Alright was bleeding out of my superdooper headphones — jagged, raw, true — and maybe it was right. It had been a long week.
Between chaos and noise, Imploders crashed in from Toronto with Out Of Time — their new LP Targeted For Termination dropping just in time for their European tour — and I followed it with The Social’s Out Of Time for symmetry’s sake. Two versions, same sentiment: the clock’s running out for all of us.
Somewhere in the static, I could hear Brython Shag shouting Dwnsia Ne Granda! from a warped tape of a 2014 gig — live, hectic, glorious. The sound of a band that could turn even a breakdown into a dance. I smiled. It reminded me that this radio thing has always been a bit like resurrection — pulling ghosts out of old hard drives and half-melted CDRs.
Kuroishi’s Warhead! Warhead! was the sound of fallout, chaos, and caffeine in equal measure — and to balance it, I dropped Attitude’s old 1987 cover of Warhead from their The Good, The Bad & The Obnoxious EP. Decades apart. Punk’s own echo chamber. By the time Stranglehold hit with Tried & True, the levels were in the red and Garry’s grin was audible even through the static. Birmingham hardcore pride, pure and simple.
Down in the basement, 10 Jules were working the faders. Steve Scenius/Klammer has been helping them finish their new EP Maelstrom – Amok. The lead track, Catacombs, filled the room with low-rent fuzz and that beautiful post-punk decay that makes you want to stare at your shoes and nod. “All the best,” he said before disappearing into the noise.
Then came RANK, rolling in from a practice room somewhere near Newport, their Brave New Lows bouncing off the walls. Jon was still buzzing about chaperoning Kuroishi on their UK tour, and it showed.
Bad Sam followed with Popcorn And Blood, a teaser from their upcoming Trauma LP (out November), and then, because I can’t resist a good word clash, I threw in Alien Matter – Popcorn And Prostitutes. Seemed rude not to.
Celavi have stopped by my Instagram feed all-week — they’re playing The Nelson on Thursday — so I replayed Sori because it deserves another spin, especially now they’re popping up in Metal Hammer and beyond.
Then came a sharp turn. Schkeuditzer Kreuz unleashed their Systematic Death — a CRASS cover that somehow manages to be even more feral than the original — and I found myself thinking about radio as controlled anarchy.
Things got wonderfully weird when Proprioception took over with Rubberist, from their EP My Salvation Lies in the Church of You. Garry flagged that one for me — three young punks (Beau, Archie, Evie) making something utterly subhuman out of distortion and devotion. Right after, Brandyman’s Cockpit from that old Adam Walton Session (2010) brought a strange, nostalgic calm.
And just when I thought I’d hit the emotional floor, IKHRAS إخرَس tore the ceiling open with Anwa3 Al-Mowt – أنواع الموت. Every sound on that track feels like a different kind of death — and a different kind of life. Thanks, Garry (again), for the reminder.
By the home stretch, it was pure catharsis. Citric Dummies with I Don’t Like Anything (and I still can’t find a UK distro shifting that LP, so if anyone knows, shout!). Then Death Pill from Kyiv with Haters Gonna Hate — fierce, fearless, defiant. Punk from a warzone.
And finally, because I couldn’t end without a little sun after all that shadow, Diet Pills closed the night with Sun. A 2011 gem that still burns bright — and incidentally, they're the band that gave us Thumbsucker.
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