Show #188 - Neil Crud On Louder Than War Radio

 

Some shows take on a life of their own, and this week’s felt like one big, noisy story unraveling through the speakers.

It began with TV Face, reminding us to Get What We’re Given – a timely mantra when the world insists on throwing curveballs. From there, old-school Teesside hardcore crew Dogsflesh marched in lockstep with their March Of The Damned, dragging us into darker territory where nothing is promised and everything is contested.

The Unknowns might have Lost Me, but that’s half the fun of radio – you’re not supposed to know exactly where you’re going, particularly when you lose your shownotes. By the time Vast Slug crawled in with the brilliantly titled I Look Forward To Reading All About Myself In Your Suicide Note, things had already become beautifully unhinged.

The brutality continued with Times of Desperation, who left us Skinned Alive, and The Skive, who dragged us back to reality with the rough-and-ready supermarket bargain bin brilliance of Bargain. Just when you thought you could breathe, Son Capsun was up there, a Sniper On The Roof Of Tesco, aiming barbs at the mundanity of suburban life.

The middle of the set went global. AM checked in to ask Co tam słychać?, before PESD prowled like Hieny and Polish punk legends Armia growled To Moja Zemsta. It felt like a whole Eastern Bloc uprising pressed into three quick punches.

Hearing Tests reminded us what it’s like to face down a Bully, then Derwyddon Dr Gonzo gave us a surreal ska detour with Chaviach. By the time Mr Huw took us through Ein Budreddi (our filth, our grime), my heart was sufficiently warmed and throbbing.

Punitive Damage then baptised us in flames with Baptism Of Fire, which felt like the perfect lead-in to Schkeuditzer Kreuz, who demanded we Keep Dancing even as the walls shook and the floor melted beneath our feet.

The endgame came thick and fast: Takers & Users served up Bombscare, Exaust ripped open an Open Wound, and GURT rolled in with the sludgy stomp of Sludge Puppies. And to sign it all off? J Pump & The Bulldozers flattened the night beautifully with No.1 Auto.

What a ride.

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The Playlist – Show 188

• TV Face – Get What We’re Given

• Dogsflesh – March Of The Damned

• The Unknowns – Lost Me

• Vast Slug – I Look Forward To Reading All About Myself In Your Suicide Note

• Times of Desperation – Skinned Alive

• The Skive – Bargain

• Son Capsun – Sniper On The Roof Of Tesco

• AM – Co tam słychać?

• PESD – Hieny

• Armia – To Moja Zemsta

• Hearing Tests – Bully

• Derwyddon Dr Gonzo – Chaviach

• Mr Huw – Ein Budreddi

• Punitive Damage – Baptism Of Fire

• Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Keep Dancing

• Takers & Users – Bombscare

• Exaust – Open Wound

• GURT – Sludge Puppies

• J Pump & The Bulldozers – No.1 Auto

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Next week I’ll be away travelling, so Martin from Noises From The Bottom Left Corner will be stepping in for me. He’s got impeccable taste and a knack for spinning chaos into gold, so tune in and give him your ears. I’ll be back the week after, hopefully in one piece.

Live gigs live sheet

This is my personal archive of the live sets I’ve seen over the years – pieced together from memory and old diaries. Some gigs were life-changing, some epiphanic, many unforgettable… and a few I’d probably rather not remember. But every single one has left its mark – not least in the form of my raging tinnitus.

For many of these shows (though not all), you can find reviews over on the link2wales site.

First gig I ever saw were The Jam, supported by The Vapors at Deeside Leisure Centre in 1979

The list itself lives in a constantly updated spreadsheet – every time I log another band I’ve seen, it grows.

Dive in, explore, enjoy – and maybe you’ll spot a few you were at too.

Neil Crud - Bands Seen

Show #187 - Swamp Fest & Louder Than War Radio (01.09.25)

  

Steve Steve Steve of White Ether, harnessing that feedback

Still recovering from the weekend when I hit the airwaves for this one. At the time, drinking all that Abbot Ale felt like the best idea in the world… but come Sunday, my head begged to differ and I spent a lot of the day in the recovery position.

Little Swamp Fest 2025

Saturday was all about Little Swamp Fest, a hidden gem of a festival tucked away in rural Ynys Môn. It’s not your average event – it’s private, run by friends, for friends, with bands made up of (you guessed it) friends. I’ve been going six or seven years now, and it never fails to deliver.

This year was meant to be extra special on a personal level, as my own band Spam Javelin was finally set to make our debut. Our host Nick has been pestering us to play for years, and at last the stars aligned… until the gods of misfortune intervened. Our drummer Llion pulled his back on the eve of the gig. Drummers, eh? Love ’em or hate ’em, you can’t play without ’em. Well, unless you have a few Abbot Ales in you and someone hands you a Strat.

So yes, I was coaxed into doing four or five Spam Javelin songs solo on Bryce Amps’ gorgeous Fender Strat and amp – and you know what? It was a nervous blast and a bit rubbish ha ha.

As for the rest of the day: Spears took us on a spaced-out trip and I enjoyed the blues of Serious Bizness and the fun of Black Sheep, while White Ether were the real knockout. Their extended set was spot-on, particularly enjoyed their newer material, and honestly, a debut album from them is long overdue. Once again, Little Swamp Fest proved to be the perfect collision of music, mates, and merriment. Here’s to 2026!

OK... on with the show -
With the weekend’s excesses still lingering, I fired up this week’s show with a dose of grit: Sleaford Mods’ Tweet Tweet Tweet. Hard to believe it’s ten plus years old already. The track raged against right-wing nonsense back then, and here we are in 2025, with even more of it to shout about. Some things never change, apart from roundabouts (apparently).

Also marking anniversaries was Wendykurk – 22 years since they released their one and only album Soft Meat. That band used to scare the living shit out of me (in the best possible way), and it was a thrill to dust them off again.

Big thanks, as always, to Garry Davies for digging up fresh treasures. His contributions are a backbone of the show, and this week he unearthed Potato Skins’ hilarious Diet Squad. That in turn gave me the excuse to blast Riot Squad’s Speed Cameras – perfect pairing. Garry also supplied Hearing Test’s sweaty sludge-punk energy and Grail Guard’s fiery Coventry hardcore.

Other highlights

• Scotch Funeral – Sacrifice My Teeth kept their Ever & Ever momentum alive.

• White Ether – All Things Must Change got a well-deserved nod after their Little Swamp Fest triumph.

• Hearing Tests – Mob Rule, London post-hardcore at its noisy, dissonant best.

• Tragedy – Enter The Void, Portland hardcore bruisers from their LP 'Fury'.

• A scattering of global chaos: Fight The Bear, PESD, Gerinc – all firing on full cylinders.

• Smarts – Golden Arches, lifted from their album Who Needs Smarts, Anyway?.

• More Kreuz carnage: Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Trips & Trepidations, proving Swan Grinder is still shaking the rafters.

• Split System – It Ain’t You (Live in Stockholm) kept the Aussie machine rolling and what about that TV Face track!!

• Pete Bentham & The Dinner Ladies – Is There Life in Rhyl. The title says it all.

• And finally, the grind onslaught: Internal Rot – Muted Destiny, from their blistering new split with Mutilated Cop (just out on Nerve Altar – go grab it on 7” or digital). I only managed to squeeze about 30secs in, but will play more next week.

The Playlist – Show 187

• Sleaford Mods – Tweet Tweet Tweet

• Antisect – Black

• PESD – Co tam słychać

• Fight The Bear – Sleazy Joe

• Gerinc – Fogságban

• Scotch Funeral – Sacrifice My Teeth

• White Ether – All Things Must Change

• Hearing Tests – Mob Rule

• Grail Guard – Our Streets

• Potato Skins – Diet Squad

• Riot Squad – Speed Cameras

• Wendykurk – Chain Of Daisies

• Tragedy – Enter The Void

• CoVid 21 – Everythings Fucked

• Smarts – Golden Arches

• Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Trips & Trepidations

• Split System – It Ain’t You (Live in Stockholm)

• TV Face - Boots, Pocket, Coffin

• Pete Bentham & The Dinner Ladies – Is There Life In Rhyl

• Internal Rot – Muted Destiny

Show #186 - Louder Than War Radio (25.08.25)

 

I hate it when Liverpool are on Monday Night Football. Matches never finish on time anymore, and full-time seems to creep closer and closer to my show’s 10pm kick-off. Last night against Newcastle was a prime example: constant stoppages, niggling fouls, and the Geordies trying to blend cage fighting into their tactics. By the time I was playing the opening songs, the game was still going.

And then, it happened. In the 100th minute, 16-year-old Rio Ngumoha smashed in the winner for Liverpool. Our youngest ever goalscorer, and only the second 16-year-old in Premier League history to bag a winning goal (after Wayne Rooney). I was leaping around the living room like a teenager who’d just scored it himself. Safe to say, the adrenaline was pumping so hard that it took me a good 20 minutes into the show to settle down – so apologies if I sounded a little jittery. Just like Liverpool, I suppose.

The show kicked off with something rare and a little special: a mash-up from Swansea’s Head In The Shed, who many years back spliced Rage Against The Machine with Colwyn Bay’s Global Parasite. As far as I know, this mix is unavailable online, so you could call it a Crud exclusive – even if it’s a decade or so late! Oh, and happy birthday to Dave Global Parasite Cox.

With England still wrapped up in flag-waving nationalism and road painting, it felt apt to follow that with Mouthparts’ biting Flag Shagger and Anhrefn’s classic Swings a Rowndabouts. Context, people.

From there the set hurtled into old favourites and new bruisers alike: Crass with Rival Tribal Revel Rebel, Yung Rare declaring This Machine Kills Fascists, and CoVid 21 ramping things up with War Whores. Laced between those were gems like Gentleman Jesse’s garage-soaked I Don’t Wanna Know (Where You Been Tonight) and the blistering energy of AKU (Phase Me Out) and Father Stone (The Entertainer).

I’ve been talking up the new Schkeuditzer Kreuz record Swan Grinder recently (check out my review on Louder Than War), and it was great to get Keep Dancing blasting on the airwaves. Dark, dystopian, industrial-punk – one of the year’s strongest underground releases. Also in the spotlight: Scotch Funeral’s latest Ever & Ever (which I reviewed last week), and the new, sadly posthumous Eye Licker album And Now The End Is Here. 

Later on came a mix of international collaborations and local genius – from Mr Phormula’s bilingual Cymru i India, to the blistering satire of Joe & The Shitboys (Manspredator), and brutal heaviness from Mastiff and the pure comedy yet very clever Rabo De Toro sending up Russ Abbots' Atmosphere.

As always, most of what I play can be found on Bandcamp. So go on – buy the records, support the bands, and if they’re playing anywhere near you, get out and see them. That’s what keeps this whole scene alive.

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Playlist – Show 186

• Global Parasite Vs Rage Against The Machine – Head In The Shed Remix

• Mouthparts – Flag Shagger

• Anhrefn – Swings a Rowndabouts

• Crass – Rival Tribal Revel Rebel

• Yung Rare – This Machine Kills Fascists

• CoVid 21 – War Whores

• Gentleman Jesse – I Don’t Wanna Know (Where You Been Tonight)

• AKU – Phase Me Out

• Father Stone – The Entertainer

• Save Your Breath – Modern Slavery Institution

• Topper – Newid Er Mwyn Newid

• WAR//PLAGUE – Sacrifice

• Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Keep Dancing

• Mr Phormula – Cymru i India

• Joe & The Shitboys – Manspredator

• Eye Licker – Gag Reflex

• Scotch Funeral – Never See Me Again

• AM – Co tam słychać?

• Mastiff – A Story Behind Every Light

• Rabo De Toro – Atmosphere

Show #185 - Louder Than War Radio (18.08.25)

Back in the hot seat after a week away roaming the continent, I returned to Louder Than War Radio with another full-throttle set of tunes for Show 185. Big thanks go to Wyn, who held the fort in my absence with a cracking show of his own – if you missed it, go back and give it a listen. He’ll be back later in the year to cover for me again, as will Noises From The Bottom Left Corner (who you can usually catch on Louder Than War every Saturday at 4pm). Plenty of able deputies lining up behind me – all these people jockeying for position, eh?

It was a thrill to give Lancaster’s very own TV Face an early spin ahead of their upcoming album. The track Boots Pocket Coffin is as curious as its title – which, incidentally, sounds like a What3Words location. (I did wonder whether one actually exists – and yes, there is indeed a location tagged boots.pocket.coffin in the system! Somewhere in China, as it happens).

Another highlight was Sŵn Y Môr from Scotch Funeral, lifted from their brand-new album Ever & Ever, which is out now on vinyl. The band launched it last Saturday at Rascals in Bangor to a buzzing crowd. Keep your ears to the ground – they’re lining up a Wrexham date with Eitha Da very soon, which promises to be unmissable.

One record I’ve been absolutely loving is the new single from Irked – The Hardest Man In Billingham. It comes backed with two remarkable covers, which was almost too much temptation for me not to play in full. In the end, I restrained myself and gave the originals a spin instead – Dan Sartain’s Fuck Friday and SuperCharger’s Sooprize Package for Mr. Mineo. Both great tracks in their own right, but I’ll say it here: Irked’s versions are even better. Track them down and you’ll see what I mean.

To round things off, I couldn’t resist giving in to temptation one more time – this time with Pavel Chekov’s stunning Negative Progress EP. Five tracks in five minutes, the whole thing aired back-to-back. Urgent, short, and beautiful – the perfect way to close a show.

See you all next week for Show 186 – but in the meantime, here’s the playlist for this week’s broadcast:

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Playlist – Show 185

• TV Face – Boots Pocket Coffin
  Penny Coffin – March To The Grave
  Scotch Funeral – Sŵn Y Môr
  Spiteful Void – The Corpse of Hope
  Osees – God’s Guts
  Sweetpool – No One Believes Anything Anymore
  Rotunda – I Refuse
  Rotura – Al Otro Lado
  Bowandarrow91 – Surge Of Chaos
  Julius Seizure – I Don’t Get It
  HIATUS – End Is Near
  Mwstard – Scandal Broth
  Irked – The Hardest Man In Billingham
  Dan Sartain – Fuck Friday
  SuperCharger – Sooprize Package for Mr. Mineo
  Mr Phormula – Penill a Paris
  Big Jesse – Dave’s Song
  The Crash Mats – Kirk
  Pavel Chekov – Expropriate 
  Pavel Chekov – Reductionist
  Pavel Chekov – Social Imperialist
  Pavel Chekov – Left Capitalist
  Pavel Chekov – Deteriorate

7 Countries 7 Days: Luxembourg, Belgium

 

Thursday 14th August 2015 – Luxembourg → Liège

Ahh, air-con. Sometimes it’s the little luxuries that make all the difference. Our room at the Ibis Budget in Parc Bouillon, Luxembourg, may have been stripped down to the bare bones, but at least it had that glorious hum of cold air pushing back against the heatwave outside. The only catch? The place isn’t exactly central — a fair trek to the heart of the city.

Still, we were up and out early, walking twenty minutes into Battembourg for what turned out to be a pretty unsavoury breakfast. But honestly, life’s too short to obsess over the finer details of nutrition. You can Google your way into neurosis, or you can just eat what’s in front of you and accept that one way or another, we’re all going the same way.

From there, the real gift of Luxembourg kicked in: free public transport. Free. Imagine that in the UK! I’d live on buses. (I did read that the Welsh government has introduced £1 travel for 16-21-year-olds — which is something — but still, Luxembourg is in another league.) We hopped on a bus into the city and spent a few hours mooching around in the rising heat.

One of the day’s highlights was stumbling across the Pétrusse Skatepark, sunk into a deep valley with a colossal flyover soaring above. It looked as if someone had air-lifted the Menai Bridge and dropped it into the middle of the city. A little further along, we found a boarded-up church carved into the rockface. Its iron doors were locked, but peering inside we could just make out a surreal video projection of flowers and bees looping on the wall, paired with a spacey soundtrack. Either that, or we had ingested hallucinogens and they were kicking in... (see here)

By midday the sun was merciless, so we retreated to the station in search of shelter on a train. The first departure was for Troisvierges, which sounded promising until we arrived and found… absolutely nothing. Not to be beaten, we boarded another train to Liège. Switzerland might let you ride free once in a while, but once in Belgium they have an exclusive gender: Ticket Inspector, so I coughed up the £30 fare without hesitation.

Just when we thought we were making good time, the day unravelled. Engineering works threw us onto a replacement bus service that crawled through the Belgian countryside. Pretty though the scenery was, the vehicle itself was an oven on wheels, hotter even than the buses I’d sweated through in New Delhi. By the time we finally reached Liège we were medium-to-well-done and into the evening, so any chance of exploring the city today was lost.

At least our apartment in the Walburge neighbourhood was welcoming. After a short taxi ride from the gleaming, space-age train station, we arrived at this homely little flat. Food and beer rounded off the evening. No sightseeing, no late-night wanderings, but after a day of unsavoury breakfasts, surreal churches, and oven-hot buses, home comforts were exactly what we needed.

7 Countries 7 Days: Switzerland, France, Luxembourg

 

Tuesday, 12th August 2015 – Zurich → Basel → Strasbourg

I woke up aching today, the arch of my right foot screaming at me with every step. Fine, I thought — I’ll just use the left one instead. We left our rickety old digs in Zurich early and headed for breakfast. By now, we’d settled into a routine: croissant, yoghurt, banana, and fruit juice from the Coop supermarket. We carried it down to the lakeside and spent an hour eating among ducks, gulls, and a couple of aggressive swans.

I’ve got history with angry Swiss swans — a few years back one nearly had me while I was swimming in Lake Geneva — so I kept a wary eye on these two as they hissed their way across the water. Charlie, unfazed, happily munched through his breakfast.

Afterwards, Charlie took over navigation duties, guiding us up the river (five bridges in total) to the station. By 9:30 am the heat was already oppressive. My lack of exercise over the past three weeks was catching up with me; I was flagging badly, muttering curses with each step.

At the station, we jumped on the first train we saw — bound for Basel. Tickets? None. And, remarkably, nobody checked. In a way it felt like poetic justice, a tiny victory against a country where £1.50 just to have a piss is considered normal. No wonder half the shop doorways smell like urinals. And while I’m on the subject of Swiss annoyances — their bloody different plug sockets! At least my super battery pack saved us more than once, otherwise we’d have been stranded with dead phones in a land of eye-watering prices.

From Basel, we quickly decided that Switzerland had drained enough of our wallets and aimed for Strasbourg, France. The French, however, have their own ways of punishing travellers — buying a train ticket onboard costs a premium. So I did the sensible thing and booked online while standing on the platform: £57 for two tickets. Win some, lose more.

By the time we reached Strasbourg, the sun was in full force — 33°C and climbing. Charlie, naturally, asked for another McDonald’s lunch. Nothing says cultural immersion like two Big Macs in two days, but I caved.

Determined to at least walk off some of the shame, I insisted we trek the two miles to our hotel, Hotel Esplanade, in the university quarter. Our route followed the River Ill (yes, that really is its name), crossing over the Rhine before we reached the hotel. By 2 pm we were checked in — I managed it entirely in French, which felt like a small triumph, or an arc de triomphe, if you like.

The room wasn’t much cooler than the outside, but at least it offered a break from the direct sun. We did the classic traveller’s trick of washing our clothes in the shower and hanging them on the windowsill to dry. After a short rest, we braved the heat again and set off into the city for the evening. Strasbourg didn’t disappoint — stunning architecture, buzzing streets, and a warm summer atmosphere that pulled us along.

By the time we stumbled back, our step counter read 17,000 steps for the second day in a row. My right foot wasn’t impressed. Neither was the left, by then.

Wednesday, 13th August 2015 – Strasbourg → Metz → Luxembourg

One thing’s for sure: with all this walking in relentless heat, getting to sleep is never a problem. France is in the grip of a mega heatwave right now, and by the time my head hits the pillow each night, I’m gone. But today I was awake at 6, roused by the buzz of the city outside our Strasbourg hotel. With a couple of quiet hours to kill, I sat plotting our route home for the weekend.

Hindsight is a cruel teacher. Really, I should have booked a return flight from wherever we ended up, then just worked our way there. Instead, this “make it up as we go along” approach has cost a fair few quid. The UK train alone was almost £100 return, and the flight home? A painful £200 from Brussels for the two of us. Handing that much money to Ryanair for a one-hour flight makes my teeth itch — but then again, it was only £15 each to fly out here to Memmingen. Swings and roundabouts, as they say. Or in this case: sixes and seven hundreds.

We checked out of our hotel with a cheerful “au revoir”, then strolled through the bright morning sun to Parc de l’Étoile, where we grabbed a café noir and croissant. The waitress was the spitting image of the French temptress from Fawlty Towers who fancied Basil. A surreal déjà vu moment over breakfast.

From there, we caught a Flixbus to Metz, rattling along in the midday heat. When we arrived, it was 34°C and sweating. Our onward bus was due at 3:30 pm — except, of course, it wasn’t. A delay pushed it to 5:10, giving us a couple of unexpected hours to wander Metz. Turned out to be a gift: the city is gorgeous, with its jaw-dropping cathedral towering over everything. I even risked stepping inside, and to my surprise I wasn’t struck down immediately.

Lunch was from Aldi (cheap, cheerful, effective), washed down with a couple of beers before heading back to the coach park. That’s when the real trouble started. Our bus never came. After an hour of waiting, some Russian kids broke the bad news: there’d been a glitch in the Flixbus app, and the bus had actually left at 4:43. Brilliant. The next one wasn’t until 8:10 pm — from a different stop 10 km north of the city.

Tickets for the bus: £5. The Uber to actually reach the new stop: £25. You can bet Flixbus will be hearing from me when I get home.

By the time we rolled into Luxembourg, night had fallen. I ended up booking another taxi — £32 this time — to get us to our hotel in Livange, a small town south of the city. We’d saved money by booking an Ibis Budget, but by the time I’d added up the taxi fares, I might as well have stayed in central Luxembourg.

Still, for all its stripped-down, bare-bones vibe, our room did at least come with air conditioning. In this heatwave, that felt like five-star luxury.