This week - LTW festival / Crapsons / Holy Coves / no cars stolen

I was meandering among the grockles (tourists) on Llandudno Pier today and noticed the countless little plaques, screwed to the benches and railings - 

‘Frank and Brenda spent many happy times here’ 

‘Forever in our hearts’ 

Sadly Frank & Brenda are no longer with us, hence the plaque.

But there they are… commemorated by a small weathered plaque screwed to a bench on the Pier in Llandudno - immortalised in sea salt and seagull shit. 

And it made me think that, one day, apart from our immediate circle of family and friends, we’ll all be but plaques on park benches, or footnotes in people’s memories. 

People will say (they always do) what a great person you were, others will agree, and click a 💖 emoji before scrolling on. And that’s it… you’ll be scrolled over… until your memory pops up next year on Facebook or wherever.

So that’s why it’s so important to make your own memories - even if it’s a 2 hour walk around the Great Orme in Llandudno with your eldest daughter and youngest son. It’s time to catch up, while soaking in the stunning views and cry laughing at the banter between us.

Life is short and precious, and it’s definitely for living - you don’t need to change the world; just your world (if you feel it needs changing) - make a difference if you like, but only for the better, because those who do want to change the world are usually megalomaniacs.

Just look at the current global tensions. And by “tensions,” I mean the kind where world leaders go on TV and say things like “we must avoid escalation”… immediately followed by more escalation.

I had to put luxury liquid in the car to get to Llandudno, prices are shooting up, fuel costs are rising, which means everything else is rising, which means your bank account is currently filing for emotional support. At this point, filling up your car feels less like a necessity and more like a bold financial decision.

You can see all the energy companies High Fiving each other and adding the great dictator Trump to their xmas card list.
[War is sexy, war is fun, iron ego - Dead Kennedys]

Today’s two hour walk has emboldened my decision - to make 10,000 steps a day every day mandatory - not a choice - not a, oh 6000 will do today as it’s raining - no, it’s an absolute priority.

Yes — I know — try not to be intimidated by my athleticism, but for seven consecutive days this rule has been obeyed, and I bow before thee, well before myself…

I’ll be honest, I’ve been slacking lately. Some days I barely get off the sofa as the unrelenting rain smashes against the living room window. So I thought: enough is enough. Time to become one of those people - you know — the ones who say things like “just got my steps in” and somehow feel morally superior.

So I’ve recharged the Fitbit — which, by the way, had been dead for so long it was basically an archaeological find — and now when it tells me to move, I move. No questions asked. Even if it’s just a slow, slightly resentful lap around the block like I’m a dog that’s been forced out in that pissing rain.

But — the plot twist is — it’s working. Seven days in a row. 10k steps. Every day.

I don’t even recognise myself anymore. Who is she? Why is she outside in this awful weather? 

See! I told you!!

Now, alongside this fitness revolution, I’ve also decided to “eat myself fitter.” 

Which sounds positive, but comes with a catch — I am NOT buying anymore supermarket food until I’ve eaten what’s already in my cupboards. Because apparently, at some point, I started preparing for the apocalypse. Tins of beans, tomatoes, black eyed peas, chick peas - packets of pasta, mung beans, lentils, noodles, rice and a freezer full of …well, frozen stuff.

And look — I don’t want to alarm anyone — but I’m starting to think World War 3 might not actually kick off in time for me to justify this level of stockpiling, although that Orange maniac is having a proper go at justifying my food mountain… 

It’s like an addiction, I pop into the supermarket after work and pick up my tea at the reduced section - there’s also a carboot section of damaged tins and ripped packaging that I feel compelled to buy on account that I’m putting less money in the corporate pocket - does that make sense?

So, anyway, now I’m working through it. I’ve made menus based entirely on what I already have, and let me tell you — things are getting creative.

We’re talking dishes like… mung bean paella™.

Yes. That’s right.

I invented it. It’s mine. I’m trademarking it. Don’t even think about it.

At this point, my insides are basically a fibre processing plant. I am operating at levels previously thought impossible. I’m not saying it’s competitive in this house… but I am currently holding my own in the Farting Premier League.

Which is no small feat when you live with a 13-year-old boy.

This child — I’m convinced — could power a small village. Every morning, his quilt doesn’t just lie there. It gently hovers. Just… drifting. On a silent cushion of methane. It’s like a low-budget special effect.

I’m both impressed and deeply concerned.

Anyway — back to the cupboards. I reckon I’ve got about three weeks’ worth of food in there. Week one: fine. Week two: inventive. By week three, I fully expect the menu to look like it’s been written by a student in a bedsit who’s down to their last £3 and a questionable tin of something from 2009.

But you know what? I’m committed. - or I need committing…

Because for the next three weeks, I am not giving my money to Tesco. Apparently, every £1 in £8 in the UK goes there — and frankly, they’ve had enough of mine. We’re taking a break. A financial and emotional break.

So yeah — that’s where I’m at.

10k steps a day, experimental cuisine, and a household gas situation that should probably be monitored by professionals.

Alright — let’s talk culture. Because it’s not all steps, beans, and methane. Sometimes I leave the house for reasons other than being bullied by a Fitbit. Actually I spend so little time in the house that the utility companies think I’m fiddling the meters, as my bills are so low.

So — last weekend, I went to the Louder Than War festival in Manchester. And honestly? For an inaugural event — it was brilliant. Set in the excellent Manchester Academy building, a place I’ve seen some great bands in the past; it was like you’re witnessing something that might become a thing… or at the very least, a great story later.

Now, the big moment for me — finally meeting some of the Louder Than War team in person. Reviews editor, Wayne Carey, who I’ve bantered with for years but never actually swapped spit with. And also Iain Key, radio DJ and published author (no less!) - check out his book ‘All The Young Punks - A People’s History of The Clash’ - there’s a great story of when I, as a 13 year old met The Clash.

And let me just say — we are lovely people sharing the love of music - it’s what makes us tick.

Was also good to reacquaint myself with the tireless and mighty John Robb and equally mighty Nigel Carr.

Getting to the festival was a long journey - in fact getting anywhere from Bangor in the north west of Wales is a long journey. I took Tim and Michael along for the ride. Four-hour round trip. 

I had to collect them from their respective tiny Welsh villages — which, I’m fairly certain, are not actually on maps but exist more as a concept. You have to pass through some kind of unofficial checkpoint. Farmers. Pitchforks. Suspicious looks. It’s almost Bandit country… 

Before all that, though, I’d already had a full social morning — breakfast in Bangor with Scott from Holy Coves. And I’d say “frontman,” but “fronteverything” feels more accurate — you know, one of those people who is essentially the band, the management, the promoter in human form.

We were both buzzing about their upcoming fourth album, Hiraeth — which, if you don’t know, is basically a Welsh word that perfectly captures nostalgia, longing, and probably how I feel about carbs right now. 

Holy Coves don’t do things by halves. Me, I release an album (3 I think, no 4!) and, with the last two Spam Javelin ones just like, well, put it out there, and sell a few on Bandcamp and a few more at the gigs we play.

Holy Coves do campaigns, proper tours - all that stuff - and get paid! Imagine being paid for doing something you love! Spam Javelin are lucky to get petrol money, and thanks to that MAGA maniac, that petrol money has just halved in value.

Scott asked me what was going on today
‘LTW festival’ I said, so he decided to drive himself to the festival as well. No plan. Just vibes. Respect.

Now — the music.

The lineup was a full-on genre-hopping experience.

You had The Dirt opening bringing this narrated, thumping energy — like being told a story but aggressively, almost like Sleaford Mods, but far less annoying and better music - I bought their excellent ‘Monkeypunch' album off them and shared stories of North Wales (everyone needs to visit North Wales at some point in their lives - just not on a Friday afternoon so you clog up the A55).

Then Evil Blizzard — who were, as expected, absolutely filthy in the best possible way. The kind of band where you don’t fully understand what’s happening, but you’re completely on board anyway. Their set was cut short, or they overplayed or something, but it was still a spectacle as always.

And then The DSM IV — who were just… sublime. Proper locked-in, hypnotic, can’t-look-away kind of performance. I find them compelling viewing, Jade’s cool as fuck guitar playing and Guy McKnight’s unpredictable stance.

Those were highlights among highlights, so make sure you check out the festival review which is up there now at louder than war dot com….

And talking of which, let’s turn our attention to the radio show. Because obviously, in between becoming a walking fibre experiment and surviving rural Wales and festivals I also have a weekly broadcast to maintain.

Yes — every Monday night, 10pm. Live.

Which means there’s no editing, no safety net, and absolutely no way to take back anything stupid I say. So, you know… high professionalism all round.

This week we kicked things off with The Dandy Warhols and their version of The Damned’s — Love Song — And then we very quickly did kick off.

INTERCOURSE with their take on Hole’s Violet — which is less a song and more a controlled detonation. Subtlety? Absolutely not.

I try and cram in around 20 songs in that one hour, so most are less than 3mins long, they have to be, I guess this week— a personal highlight was — Mclusky with as a dad. 

Because nothing says “well-rounded playlist” like going from full-throttle hardcore into something that feels like existential commentary wrapped in dry, slightly unhinged Welsh brilliance.

Which, frankly, is a niche I respect.

By the time we hit the end — with bands like The Red Bastards and Dropping Bombs — it felt less like a curated playlist and more like we’d collectively decided to burn it all down… musically speaking.

Which is exactly how it should be - you can hear this episode here.

So yeah — if you like your music loud, slightly confrontational, and with absolutely zero interest in being background noise… Monday nights, 10pm.

Come join.

Or don’t. But you’ll miss out on whatever… and you can always catch up on mixcloud - and while you’re at it, I’ve now put 2hrs aside each week in my erratic walking schedule to listen to Mike Unruly’s Radio Zero show on LTW radio - every Wednesday, and again, on Mixcloud too.

Alright — bonus segment: “things I probably didn’t have time to do, but did anyway.”

So yes — I’ve been back across the A55 again this week, because apparently I now commute for fun and Wales simply isn’t good enough.

Destination: Crosstown Studios in Liverpool, where Crapsons are recording their new album — Sunshine On Keith — which already sounds like either a masterpiece or a cry for help. Possibly both. - in actual fact it’s definitely a masterpiece…

Now, a bit of context — last month I answered the call to join them on guitar after Pete left. And you know that phrase, “if you want something doing, ask a busy person”?

Well. That person is apparently me. And for reasons I still don’t fully understand, I said yes.

So here we are.

This session? Productive and very quick - there was no prattling about with cowbells or flower fairies. I laid down some backing vocals — and when I say backing vocals, I mean three-part harmony/screams and, of course, the essential punk staples: a generous scattering of “fuck offs”

All delivered with absolute professionalism.

And by professionalism, I mean there was a lot of laughing and very little dignity.

First gig’s already lined up too — LoopFest in Shrewsbury in May — so no pressure. Just casually committing to performing in public. Fine. Totally fine.

Now — I also brought Charlie along, he’s a good kid and agreed on the promise of a pizza at Outpost later (the best pizza and the best venue in the world).

There was only one rule.

No farting in the studio.

This was not a suggestion. This was a policy. And I’m pleased to report — he complied. Fully. A triumph of discipline. An historic moment, really.

We stayed overnight in Liverpool and managed to find a cheap but genuinely decent hotel right in the centre. And I’m not exaggerating here — it was called Epic and it actually lived up to the name. Rare for that price. Suspicious, even.

Now, the next morning — and I cannot stress this enough — we witnessed a miracle.

We walked back to the car, parked on Fenwick Street, and I couldn’t find my keys. There was that moment of panic - thinking I had left them in the hotel room, despite doing the obligatory Idiot Check before checking-out.

And then it hit me.

The car had been unlocked all night.
The keys — including my house key — were just… sitting there. On the centre console. On display. Like an invitation. Anyone could’ve got in. Anyone could’ve pressed “Home” on the satnav and just… taken my entire life.

But no.

Nothing. Untouched. Liverpool said, “Not today.”

Honestly — thank you, Jesus. And I don’t even say that lightly anymore.

Which is ironic — because speaking of Jesus…
At some point that same day, a group of far-right lunatics dressed as Christians decided it would be a great idea to march through Liverpool.

Now — I’m no expert — but if you’re going to test a city’s patience, Liverpool is… not the one. And sure enough — they got exactly the reception you’d expect. Let’s just say it did not turn into a peaceful pilgrimage.

Charlie and I, being completely uninterested in getting involved in any of that, made the sensible decision to remove ourselves from the situation entirely. And where did we go?
Ar Cains. Now this — this is culture.

A three-storey building in the Baltic Triangle packed with 40 years of arcade games. All working. All playable. No nostalgia tax. Just pure, unfiltered button-mashing joy. And play we did. For hours.

Because sometimes, the best response to the world — the chaos, the weirdness, the near-miss car thefts and incidental racist street theatre — is to just… go play old video games and forget everything exists for a bit.

So yeah.

That was the week:

• Walked round the Orme

• Went to a festival

• Created a menu

• Walked more than 70000 steps

• recorded an album

• joined a band

• nearly got robbed but didn’t

• accidentally witnessed divine intervention

• avoided a street-level ideological clash

• and spent hours in an arcade like it was 1997

Completely normal behaviour.

Make sure you tune in next time because where else are you going to get mung bean paella, step-count updates, and hardcore punk in the same weekly experience?

Exactly.

#12 - Tri-Subversion — Free Chopper Rides (Ubertroll Recordings)

 

With their third full-length outing, 'Free Chopper Rides', Leicester’s Tri-Subversion have effectively scorched the blueprint of their previous records to build something far more formidable. Recorded “live” in visceral single takes at Quad Studios by Bob Bryars, and shaped by the production of Stuart Robinson (Bo Bo Nomad), this release is a deliberate ramping-up from their earlier work. While 2021’s 'Project Fear' and 2023’s 'You Are The Carbon' nestled them among the pillars of modern anarcho punk, 'Free Chopper Rides' finds the band getting more agitated, but being able to contain that anger just enough to let the weight of their cynicism truly sink in.

The shift in delivery is immediately apparent. Tri-Subversion have never been the "bang-bang-1-2-3-4" franticness of their peers, opting instead for a heavier, more muscular approach. By leaning into a style defined by dynamics, they create a tension that feels far more threatening than pure velocity. This isn't just noise; it’s a "muscular, gorilla-of-a-grind" that allows room for Clive Wojcik-Hale’s guitar and Julian Palmer’s vocals to project a more focused, authoritative anger.

Even at seventeen songs long, Tri-Subversion do not outstay their welcome as they lyrically have plenty to say with their scathing, cynical autopsy of a "sick state of the world." From the bruising aftershock of the opener Eat Shit And Die to the drilling, speed-garage of Popcorn, the band stabs at societal decay with surgical precision. Tracks like Motherland showcase a "sludge bucket" of noise that remains rooted in their anarcho roots, while Four Days serves as an anxiety inducing reminder of how close we sit to the edge of collapse. And perhaps my favourite is the 'friggin in the riggin' cynicism of NGO War.

Big Brother isn't watching you, he's fucking with you.

Released via Ubertroll Recordings on 22.11.25, 'Free Chopper Rides' is the sound of a band reaching their "authoritative style." It is a heavy, demanding, and ultimately rewarding record that proves Tri-Subversion are at their most dangerous when they have the space to breathe. This isn't just a punk record; it's a "nerve-jangler" for 2026.

Tri-Subversion on Facebook

Ubertroll Recordings · Free Chopper Rides - Tri Subversion

#11 - System Of Hate – There Is No Madness Here

 

This has been on my hard-drive since its 2018 release and was regularly played on my show at the time. It was only last month that I realised I didn't actually have the physical copy. So, taking advantage of a Louder Than War sale, I parted with £3 (YES! £3!) and now own it.

'There Is No Madness Here' is a deliberately austere, confrontational record, one that commits fully to a cold, stripped-back goth sound and an explicitly anti-God stance. The music is built on bleak repetition: downcast guitar figures, rigid rhythms, and an atmosphere that favours oppression over release. It’s goth not as romance or decadence, but as severity and ritual, locking the listener into a narrow emotional corridor and refusing to offer relief.

Lyrically, the album’s hostility toward religion is neither symbolic nor playful. Its anti-God position is stated plainly and pursued with unwavering conviction, less an attempt to shock than a declaration of belief. That certainty gives the album coherence and purpose. Tracks often blur together, reinforcing the suffocating mood and compelling you to continue your hobby of sacrificing small children.

The vinyl release on Louder Than War Records suits the ethos well, though it comes with one baffling flaw: there is nothing whatsoever to indicate which side is A or B. No label cue, no run-out etching, no subtle hint—just trial, error, and mild existential irritation. It’s a small detail, but one that feels oddly careless on an otherwise deliberate release (I got it right first time btw).

Visually, the sleeve is far more assured. Its simplistic darkness mirrors the music perfectly: unadorned, oppressive, and confident enough not to explain itself. It’s the kind of artwork that doesn’t try to seduce you - it simply sits there, waiting.

And while the record itself projects severity, it’s worth noting one of the human hands behind it. Pat Crawford, despite his satanistic goat-burning sensibilities, is by all accounts a genuinely decent and approachable presence - an irony that only deepens the album’s tension between ideology and personality.

In the end, 'There Is No Madness Here' is best understood as a committed, niche statement. It doesn’t seek to persuade or entertain so much as to assert. Within its self-imposed limits, it succeeds; outside them, it remains impenetrable by design.

#10 - Head! – Tales Of Ordinary Madness (1994)

Doing an A-Z of my collection had me in an AC/DC padded cell, and I was only three headbanging albums out of eight in... So I randomly picked out this one, having never played it before. 

Head! (from Bristol) released 'Tales Of Ordinary Madness' in 1994, and some years later it was picked up by myself from Cob Records in Bangor for £2.95, and to be honest, I feel short changed. 

Not even sure why I bought it. Maybe a punt as it was so cheap? Maybe because I knew Nick Sheppard was in the band; he had been in that semi-disastrous (Cut The) Crap version of The Clash (although he's not on this Head! album). Or I may have asked them to play me a track in Cob Records and I was allured to the Mike Patton-esq vocals? 

The striking sleeve is probably the best thing about it.

I've only played side one, and can't bring myself to flip it over for fear of launching either it, or myself out of the window.

What works against 'Tales Of Ordinary Madness' is it certainly failed to make a strong first impression. The sound sits firmly in the mid-’90s alternative moment: loose, trying to be overly clever, and more concerned with atmosphere than impact. Instead of sharp hooks or a sense of danger, the record trundles along at a low simmer, which can feel understated or simply flat depending on your patience (I've lost mine).

The songwriting isn’t actively poor, but it’s underdefined—tracks blur together, ideas arrive and move on without leaving much of a mark. Repeated listens may reveal a certain moody cohesion, yet the lack of standout moments makes it hard to fully invest. Time hasn’t been especially kind to the production either; some textures now feel dated rather than evocative.

Ultimately, side one comes across as a low-key, uneven record that rewards commitment more than curiosity, and I doubt side two, if I had the courage, would change my mind. It’s not without merit, but it asks a lot from the listener and doesn't really give anything back.

Here; try it out for yourself and let me know in the comments below...

#9 - AC/DC - Let There Be Rock

 

AC/DC - Let There Be Rock

This, the band's fourth studio album is the one that propelled them into the realms of rock royalty, which, like Hell, ain't a bad place to be.

I mean, you only have to jump on the title track and let it gallop away with your senses and your life is just about complete. It's a dirty filthy riff laden rock and roll album that ends on an absolute high with 'Whole Lotta Rosie'.

I was too young [sic] to catch the Bon Scott era band, but so glad I did eventually catch them live (even if some cunt stole my wallet).

#8 - AC/DC - Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

 

AC/DC - Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

The band's third studio album (released 20th Sept 1976) and my favourite. Although, admittedly I've not heard all their releases, despite having many of them - this will be corrected in due course. However, I seriously doubt they'll top this, after-all, Bon Scott is not with them anymore is he!!

OK, I was about 13 or 14, and although my roots were firmly embedded in punk rock, a lot of my mates were heavy rockers. Motorhead were a given for any punk rock kid, and I did have a penchant for AC/DC. This was mainly due to Mike Devlin having this album and he'd play 'Big Balls' very loud while we all sniggered at the content.
His mother wasn't so forgiving; 'Michael, turn that dreadful song off!'

I always fill my ballrooms, the event is never small, the social pages say I have the biggest balls of all.

Also, the thrashing 12-bar blues on speed of 'Rocker' and the chilled hangup of the excellent 'Ride On' - yeah!!

#7 - AC/DC - High Voltage

 

AC/DC - High Voltage 

Album released February 1975. Being heavy rock curious in my teens as most of my school mates were into it, I picked this original Aussie release from the second hand record shop in Rhyl around 1985. Unwittingly unaware of the importance of this particular version I sold it for silly money during the eBay wars. Still regret that now...

It was AC/DC's debut album, with a different track listing to the internationally released version (early 1976), which featured the pick of this and it's follow up TNT. So my copy is that international release - the sleeve is missing and the b-side is fucked. Praise the devil for iTunes...

Favourite tune has gotta be 'Little Lover' - I put that song on many a compilation cassette so I could sing along with my Walkman while I was hitch-hiking my way across the UK and beyond.

My Collection #6 - Abominable Soul - Believe In Yourself & Aliens

Abominable Soul – Doncaster garage-punk band (c2016–2019), feat; Thom Smith (voc,gtr), Brad Woolrich (gtr), Luke Panks (drms), Richard Cook (bass), Liam Morrison (bass).

Emerging from the South Yorkshire underground, this trio delivered a gritty, high-energy blend of garage rock and psychedelic punk often described as "nursery rhymes for goth kids." 

They became a staple of the Yorkshire circuit, frequently appearing at festivals like Tramlines Fringe and supporting touring acts such as Malta's Fuzzhoneys. 

Released in 2017, Gray Pride was a standout EP that helped cement the band’s reputation for "lo-fi, high-velocity" garage rock. The title was a playful, tongue-in-cheek nod to the often bleak, overcast aesthetic of South Yorkshire towns, matching the band's gritty, distorted sound.

Their recorded output peaked with the 2018 cassette release Believe In Yourself & Aliens, an album that had that raw, distorted sound, with a some cool unrelenting songs - kinda sound a bit like Nosebleed in parts.
Split in 2019 but members of Abominable Soul have been active in several other projects within the South Yorkshire and North of England DIY scenes.

My Collection #5 - Abominate - Diseased

Abominate – Liverpool sludge/death metal band (2016–2019), feat; Dave Ballantyne (voc), Hadyn Kirkwood (gtr), Stuy Crosbie (drms), Lea Cross (bass), Joe McKenna (gtr). 

Emerging from the Mersey scene with a crushingly heavy sound that blended death metal speed with sludge-heavy grooves, they quickly became a staple of the "L1HC" (Liverpool Hardcore) and underground metal circuits. 

Their Diseased EP, self-released on 27th October 2017, served as their primary calling card, featuring tracks like "Parasitic Infection" and "The Black Death," showcasing a visceral, filth-ridden production style. 

Following the raw intensity of Diseased, the band put out the Witchburners EP on November 26, 2018. The five-track release, recorded at Vulcan Studios, pushed their sound further into a bleak, sludge-heavy territory while maintaining a frantic death metal edge. Tracks like "Crushed Amongst The Gears" and the six-minute title track "Witchburners" became live favourites.

Despite a series of brutal live performances supporting international acts like Devour, the band split in 2019, with members moving on to various other projects like FiftyxBrick and Acid Edge.

The CD version was 'album length' with three additional bonus demo tracks (100 copies made).

Gig review here

My Collection #4 - Abjects - Gone EP

 

Abjects – London garage-punk trio (2013–present), feat; Noemi Santiago (voc,gtr), Yuki Ishii (voc,bass), Alice Notaristefano (drms). An international outfit with members hailing from Spain, Japan, and Italy, they became staples of the London DIY scene with a sound blending 60s garage-rock, jagged post-punk, and surf-infused psych. 

Their Gone EP, released in May 2015 via Bristol's Stolen Body Records, featured the standout title track alongside "Love Hate," "Ratrace," and "Mine," garnering them a reputation for "effortlessly cool" and raw performances that eventually took them to SXSW and tours across Japan.

The EP Gone came out on a transparent blue 12″ vinyl on a limited run of 300. Obviously long sold out, but was later repressed on pink vinyl.

Bandcamp

My Collection #3 - A - Hi-Fi Serious

A – Suffolk alt-rockers (1993–2005, 2008–present), feat; Jason Perry (voc), Adam Perry (drms), Giles Perry (kybd,voc), Mark Chapman (gtr), Daniel P. Carter (bass,voc). 

The band formed in the coastal town of Lowestoft, Suffolk, where the Perry brothers and Chapman originally started out in a progressive rock outfit called Grand Designs before rebranding as A. They became the town's most famous musical export of the era, eventually trading the Suffolk coast for global tours and Top 10 success with Hi-Fi Serious. Despite their move to the big time, they’ve often been associated with the local East Anglian scene that later produced bands like The Darkness.

They exploded into the mainstream with their third album Hi-Fi Serious (released 4th April 2002), which shifted away from their quirkier pop-punk roots toward a polished, heavy alt-rock sound. It reached No.18 in the album charts.

The record spawned their massive Top 10 hit "Nothing" and the follow-up anthem "Starbucks," earning them a Kerrang! Award for Best British Band and a headline slot at Brixton Academy.

Not sure how I ended up with a copy of this as it's not really my thing; almost bordering and crossing over to that whiny stuff that causes acid reflux within me. Plus, A is an absolutely rubbish name for a band, possibly the worst in the history of shit band names. That said, the album is OK, even if it's not really my bag.

After the peak of Hi-Fi Serious, the band struggled to maintain momentum when their label, London Records, was caught up in a corporate buyout, shelving their 2005 follow-up Teen Dance Ordinance for a year. The delay killed their commercial buzz, and they were dropped by Warner Music shortly after its release, leading to a hiatus due to financial strain. During the break, Jason Perry became a successful producer (McFly, Don Broco), and Daniel P. Carter became the face of BBC Radio 1's Rock Show. They reunited in 2008 and have since remained a "sporadic" live act, playing festivals like Download, and are currently slated to release their first new studio album in over 20 years in 2026.

My Collection #2 - Abrazos - Nothing Gets Changed By Being Polite

 

Abrazos – Southampton/South Coast punk band (2017–present), feat; Alan Marshall (bass,voc), Tony Whatley (drms,voc), Nath Haywire (gtr,voc).

Originally started as a solo outlet for Tony Suspect (Suspect Device fanzine/records) to vent about modern life, the project evolved into a "no-frills" DIY trio featuring lifers from the South Coast scene. 

The members have a massive collective pedigree, having played in bands like Haywire, Whole In The Head, Armoured Flu Unit, Portiswood, and Pilger. 

Released in April 2022, this album Nothing Gets Changed By Being Polite is a 21-track blast of high-speed, social-realist hardcore that clocks in at under 20 minutes and plays at 45RPM. Reviews praise its "righteous fire" and ability to distill complex issues—from animal rights and the cost of living to the vacuousness of modern TV—into short, sharp shocks of vitriol tempered with a sense of "shared fun" and classic anarcho-punk hooks. They recorded it in eight hours! - 'We arrived at 2pm, started slowly setting up, mic'ing up the gear and by 10pm all the music and vocals had been done.'

Listening back to this howitzer volley of songs, I've just realised that my pronunciation of Abrazos has been wrong on my radio show for all this time (and I've played the band many times!). It's pronounced AB-RAZZ-OSS (which means 'hugs' in Spanish - listen to the album, they'll tell you this).

The post paid price is £13.50 (get in touch for details - suspectdevicehq@hotmail.com).

It's also available from their Bandcamp page - ABRAZOS

ABRAZOS blogspot

My Collection #1 - Abolition - Complacency

Abolition – German hardcore/screamo band (1991–1994), feat; Corey Von Villiez (bass), Jens Wagner (gtr), Andreas Huyhammer (gtr), Bernd Bohrmann (drms), Miguel Andrade (voc).

Their only full-length album, Complacency, was released in 1994 as a joint venture between Equality Records and Homemade Records. Recorded over four weekends in late 1993 in Bad Dürkheim, the record is often described as "mosh metal" infused with melodic guitar work and "screamo" style vocals that avoided the "whiny" tropes of the era (I can't stand the whiny shit and thankfully this record is void of it).*

Although the spine of my sleeve has almost disintegrated, the elaborate packaging inside remains in good condition. Included is a thick booklet, the Contaminated fanzine, and hand-written symbols on the inner sleeve, and a bilingual lyric booklet (the songs are screamed in English, and the lyrics have been translated for the sake of German listeners / readers).

Reviews from the underground scene at the time (and retrospective ratings) generally praised the songwriting and the band's ability to blend aggression with technicality, though some noted the production on the opening tracks felt more like raw demo recordings compared to the rest of the LP. And yeah, I'd agree with that. Like a lot of my records, I got it, played it a couple of times and filed it, so it's good to hear it once again and, admittedly, it may as well be for the first time!

Formed in 1990, the band were a key fixture in the German DIY hardcore scene, releasing the 7” Jesus Was A Fuckin Dick as well as this album. Members were also heavily involved in the "Confrontation" fanzine and the labels Equality and Homemade Records. 

Following Abolition's dissolution, Corey Von Villiez and Bernd Bohrmann formed the band Stack, which continued in a similar musical vein. Von Villiez later left the music scene to pursue her studies. Bernd Bohrmann remained active in the DIY community, eventually founding the label Scorched Earth Policy.

* I would actually rather listen to S Club Juniors than any Emo band.

Neil Crud on Louder Than War Radio #201

Tonight’s my 201st show on Louder Than War Radio. We open with the Manics taking a swing at Working Class Hero — 45 years since Lennon checked out, and somehow the song still lands like a cracked bell in a cold room. 

From there it’s straight to Bangor, where Skinflick remind us that all your heroes are, in fact, bastards. Fair point. Pig Sweat stomp in from Bern with that early self-titled clatter — five years on and still gleefully ruining the furniture.

Two Tonne Machete drop their new single and it hits like a pneumatic drill to the shin. Then The Fucking Angry kick the door in with Unterwegs — Wyn left this CD at mine last month and it has been eyeballing me from the shelf ever since. Consider it played.

Then things get… questionable. Piss offer up Time Loop At Hot Slit — discovered by Dave Rabo de Taylor while browsing totally innocent corners of the internet (allegedly). Followed, obviously, by Pisse — because once you’re down this drainage system, commitment is key. Duracell. Full charge.

MDK roar in live with One Of These Days I’m Just Gonna Fucking Explode — Leicester ska-shrapnel punk with a twitching fuse. Dam-Nations put it out and it sounds like three blokes doing their absolute best not to combust.

And speaking of combusting, MDC show up spitting Born To Die (No Trump No KKK) — gentle as a derailed train. Value Of Nothing cool the air a bit with Crescent Road, still carrying that Grapes Of Wrath 3am-argument-with-a-lamppost energy.

Warchrist ignite Fascist State — fresh from Rich Phillips dropping it in my inbox like a lit match. Warcrime follow with a Rudimentary Peni cover because why not throw more petrol on this thing.

Faintest Idea bring Lords Of War — Norwich is still vibrating from their sold-out show last week. The Dry Retch stumble in with Big Time Bum, then Toilet Snake slither up from the sewers with the title track of their 10” sludge-bath. Teschio Dischi once again enabling my worst decisions.

DISTRESS crash in from Russia with Демократия and Noize MC bring the fury, the exile, the bravery — Swan Lake weaponised as dissent. Ballet as a threat signal. Only in modern Russia.

Long Knife rip through Blue Rose, Wonk Unit deliver Awful Jeans with their usual chaotic charm, and Citric Dummies yelp My Life’s a Total Sham — along with a bandcamp rant about debt, merch scarcity, and Fred from the post office who apparently lives to waste their time.

The Unknowns keep the Drunken Sailor thread burning with Psychotic — plus they’ve made a 2025 sampler that basically is this show distilled. Shitbrains then offer No Mercy, which seems appropriate.

We close with MORBIKON’s Heavens That Burn And Eons Divided — astral crypts, cosmic dread, and liquid-filled vinyl you can’t get outside the US because postage is feral.

Playlist

Manic Street Preachers – Working Class Hero
Skinflick – All Your Heroes Are Bastards
Pig Sweat – Plastic Faces
Two Tonne Machete – Pigs Pigs
The Fucking Angry – Unterwegs
Piss – Time Loop At Hot Slit
Pisse – Duracell
MDK – One Of These Days I’m Just Gonna Fucking Explode (Live)
MDC – Born To Die (No Trump No KKK)
Value Of Nothing – Crescent Road
Warchrist – Fascist State
Warcrime – When You Are a Martian Church
Faintest Idea – Lords Of War
The Dry Retch – Big Time Bum
Toilet Snake – Back From The Sewers
DISTRESS – Демократия (Democracy-)
Noize MC – Лебединое озеро (Studio Version 2023)
Long Knife – Blue Rose
Wonk Unit – Awful Jeans
Citric Dummies – My Life’s A Total Sham
The Unknowns – Psychotic
Shitbrains – No Mercy
Morbikon – Heavens That Burn And Eons Divided

Neil Crud on Louder Than War Radio #200

Two hundred shows.

Two hundred Monday nights shouting at the void, feeding it noise, and the void occasionally shouting back.

Two hundred reasons to thank the ghosts, the gremlins, the listeners, the contributors (like Garry), the bands, the label miscreants, the fanzine scribblers, and Wyn — especially Wyn — patron saint of emergency cover slots.

No throat-clearing tonight.

We go straight in.

Rat Cage – “Emotional Blackmail” came crashing in first — a Sheffield-via-Skopje blast, resurrecting the UK Subs classic and hotly tied to that fresh issue of Raising Hell fanzine that still smells of ink, glue and one staple (Ben you tight barstard!). You can practically hear the interview bleeding through the guitar tone.

And because one UK Subs thread deserves another, I followed it immediately with UK Subs – “Kill Me,” pulled from Reverse Engineering, before letting the whole thing mutate into Finland’s finest D-beat barrage: Kürøishi – “Warhead! Warhead!” off Egocide of the Warmad. Feels like someone opened a window and a blizzard came through it.

From there the trail ran straight into surreal brilliance — Spaghelli – “Dead Man’s Sock.” Mentioned in Raising Hell, clicked the link, fell into an entire subuniverse of art, noise, and travel stories from a person who's been to roughly 90 countries.

The fanzine theme kept rolling with Diaz Brothers – “This Is My Oppressor.” Interviewed in RH #33 and carrying the weight of HDQ lineage, forming anew after the tragic loss of Dickie. Their album The World Is Yours is still on my “fix this, idiot” list.

Then: a Wyn leftover.

Chepa – “3 Jours Et 15 Heures,” rescued from the pile of CDs he abandoned here after covering my show. I copied the lot — fair’s fair.

From there things took a hard left: Hayden Hughes – “I Want You To Peg Me.” Released three years ago to the day. A classic of its kind. A kind that probably shouldn’t have a “classic” category but here we are.

Without Love – “Soul Purpose.” Played last week. Too good not to play again.

Then Decibel – “Object,” fresh from Bones, followed by a curious title-collision with Possible Damage – “Object” from their 2022 demo. Two different planets using the same language.

Dead Pollys – “Yes Sir,” from Better Off Alive, marched in next, before the mighty Wiccans – “Barbarian Queen.” Drunken Sailor Recs unwrapping something that feels almost like Black Flag with a migraine.

Liverpool haunted the next corner with Zombina & The Skeletones – “Phantom With The X-Ray Mind.”

Then straight to the political jugular:

Rites of Hadda – “Killer Profits (Tokitae)” from Inevitable Machete on Grow Your Own.

And then Two Tonne Machete – “Pigs Pigs,” an anthem about the criminalisation of dissent — the kind of track that rattles the windows of parliament if you play it loud enough.

We flew to Devon next (sort of) with Wags To Wytches – “Rage Bait,” from their second EP, complete with black “vinyl-style” CDs.

Then The Human Error – “Flags Of The World,” off their new record Ghost Army Deception, CD and download ready, red vinyl on the horizon like a warning flare.

Leicester barged in with Gout – “Just Watching (Live).” Two brothers, twenty years, one two-piece hardcore entity punching holes in the evening.

Then:

The Unknowns – “All Grown Up,” back with a second pressing of Looking From The Outside after the first sold out in a blink.

Back to Wales next — we always come home eventually — with Bad Sam – “Pedigree Poor,” off their new LP Trauma. A lyrical lashing at the wealthy feeding their pets gourmet nonsense while the poor queue for tins. Dean Beddis and Richard Glover do not do subtle.

And closing the 200th show with a wry grin because it’s too true to ignore:

The Puncturists – “They Don’t Pay Support Bands.”

Taken from I’m Not Alright.

And yes, they don’t.

And yes, it’s a banger anyway.

Two hundred shows.

See you for 201.

Or 300.

Or until this tinnitus finally kills me.

Whichever comes first.

Neil Crud on Louder Than War Radio - Show #199

The ghosts in the machine clearly had it in for me this week.

My first 30 minutes vanished into the digital ether, swallowed whole by whatever gremlin powers the Louder Than War Radio transmitter. Praise be, then, to the blessed sanctuary of Mixcloud where the entire show survives, preserved like a holy relic for the sonically devout.

I owe Wyn a pint for last week — his stand-in show kept my seat warm while I was holed up in a catastrophic hotel in Tirana, listening on a speaker that sounded like it had been rescued from a skip behind a nightclub. Still, his show was ace.

So now, freshly returned (though fresh feels like the wrong word after Albania), we launch head-first into Show #199, and straight into the travelogue of noise that followed me from the Balkans to Denbigh and back again.

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I began my wanderings where all good pilgrimages start: home soil, with The Affliction – “Good People.” Three minutes and fourteen seconds of pure Colwyn Bay glory — the kind of track that outlives the band, outlives the decade, possibly outlives Rhyl itself. Its video is a snapshot of people and places that still haunt the North Wales coastline.

From there the trail shot north to Cumbria with Afflicted – “Fake,” discovered by way of a review in Last Stop Sounds, before bouncing back to Copenhagen where Wyn had already planted a flag last week: NEXØ – “Concentration,” from their new EP Mindful Inaction on TNS. Wyn played it while I was wading through Albanian rainwater; now it returns as a tighter, harder punch to the ribs.

Germany beckoned next — the Black Forest gloom of Brach – “One Day,” inhabiting that dim corner where crust meets melancholy and refuses to give way to despair. The sort of track you’d expect to find echoing around a crumbling viaduct on a long walk home.

Then straight to Essex for Bad Nerves – “Loner.” Barry told me I’d like Bad Nerves. He didn’t specify which Bad Nerves, so the trail forked:

→ Essex’s self-proclaimed “best band on the planet,”

→ and then Winnipeg’s long-gone powerpop punks with “I Wanna Live With The Aliens,” because why not follow both roads when the map is on fire?

A sticker on a lamppost in Bari (always pays to sticker!) pulled me toward Romania with Avoid Humanity – “Between Now and Never,” a perfect example of why you should never travel without looking up — the scene is everywhere.

Then: Newport-ish silliness meets sincerity with Thronk – “There’s No A.I. In Team,” launching discount codes and EP bargains like confetti, before drifting into the warmth-free memory of summer with Without Love – “Soul Purpose.”

Hamburg’s Rauchen – “[Das] Brennen” arrived via Garry (who else?), ex-Death of Youth members still radiating heat. Then straight into Blackpool mud with Cock Batteth – “Mary’s Estate,” a Mick Magic-approved racket.

Wrexham came next — it always does — with Eight O’Clock George – “Barricades,” ahead of their new album, followed by Stuntface – “Million of You.” I’ll be joining them at the Magic Dragon on Dec 20th; Wrexham on a Saturday will be chaos and probably perfect.

Merseyside’s Decibel – “Visitor” shook the dust loose — their new album Bones is absolutely solid — and Belfast’s own filth merchants Rats Breath followed with “Conduit of Shit.”

Poland chimed in with AM – “Co Tam Słychać,” complete with a freshly uploaded gig video, and then Bristol’s chaos providers Cool Jerks – “We Live In Hell,” not pulled from their new live LP, but from their excellent England album.

Rich then dragged me to Greece for Distress – “Пиздаболы (Fucking Liars),” as wholesome as Greek hardcore ever gets — which is to say: not very.

And to close the travelogue, we hit the part-industrial, part-crust, all-feral universe of Schkeuditzer Kreuz – “Keep Dancing (Distruster Remix).”

Fresh off a European tour, now announcing a remix collection, and still rewriting the rules around how scorched-earth electronics should feel.

A tour of Europe, of bedrooms and basements, of stickers and cities, of bands new and dead and halfway between. That’s the beauty of it — even when the broadcast ghosts steal half an hour, the noise always finds a way through.

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FULL PLAYLIST – Show #199

The Affliction – Good People

Afflicted – Fake

NEXØ – Concentration

Brach – One Day

Bad Nerves – Loner

The Bad Nerves – I Wanna Live With The Aliens

Avoid Humanity – Between Now and Never

Thronk – There’s No A.I. In Team

Without Love – Soul Purpose

Rauchen – [Das] Brennen

Cock Batteth – Mary’s Estate

Eight O’Clock George – Barricades

Stuntface – Million Of You

Decibel – Visitor

Rats Breath – Conduit Of Shit

AM – Co Tam Słychać

Cool Jerks – We Live In Hell

Distress – Пиздаболы (Fucking Liars)

Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Keep Dancing (Distruster Remix)

Neil Crud on Louder Than War Radio – Show 197

 

Fresh—if that’s even the right word—off a Sunday night gig, throat full of gravel and ears still ringing, I kicked off the show with a track that bubbled up from the Bangor depths: Katzenmuzik & Feral Whispers – You Don’t Do Politics Do You? One of those elusive, misty projects that appear, vanish, and leave you wondering if you dreamt them. There’s been talk of a split single with Skinflick… and in Bangor, talk like that tends to linger as long as the feedback.

From there, up the coast and inland with House Proud – Rescue Dog, the Sunderland post-punk crew flying the Serial Bowl flag with jagged charm. Then into Wales for The Dogs – I Didn’t Ask, a band that seems to be quietly (and steadily) chewing through the underbelly of the Welsh punk scene.

The canine theme ran strong tonight—no surprise really—so the next logical stop was Dogsflesh – March Of The Damned. North East (again) grit at its finest; the digital album’s out November 20th, vinyl to follow. Yeah, grit, growl, and that unmistakable bite of steel-string punk metal.

Things took a turn for the ethereal with Eve Libertine & Eva Leblanc – Rocky Eyes, live from The Horse Hospital in London. Libertine’s voice—still defiant, still poetic—remains one of the great punk echoes of our time.

Then came The Puncturists – Sceptre, from their freshly released album I’m Not Alright. No hype, no gloss—just a perfect slice of paranoid modern post-punk, dropped (ugh, yes, that word) into the digital ether.

New noise from Denmark’s finest followed: NEXØ – Concentration, from their MindfulDINACTION EP on TNS Records—a double-sided concept in recycled vinyl and brilliance actually. Then all the way to Australia with Minge Wizard – Train To Trutnov, at least I think they're from there.

Decibel – Wearing The Mask brought me right back to Denbigh, where they shared a bill last night with my own band Spam Javelin and XSLF. It was loud, a bit sweaty, and exactly what Mondays were invented to regret.

There was bile and brilliance next with Maggie Thatcher’s Rotting Corpse – Let’s All Spit On Kier Starmer, courtesy of Garry (who else?), followed by David Delinquent & The IOUs – Everybody Loves You, which Dave personally handed over like some rock'n'roll contraband.

Value Of Nothing – Die Verge was next—proper DIY spirit from Lestah, hand-dubbed, hand-folded, and fully unpolished. Then the gloriously grimy Cock Batteth – Soul Digger, which came recommended by Mick Magic, who hasn’t stopped evangelising about them since he saw them in Blackpool.

Citric Dummies – Dropped Out Of Punk is fast becoming a recurring anthem, and rightly so, before I let Bossmags – Ghost Ships drift in, a piratey but heavy heavy ska swing into their latest video offering.

The back end of the show veered darker: Wiccans – Crucifixion from their Phase IV LP on Drunken Sailor, then Salt The Snail – Ideasman, complete with their intentionally rubbish new video (worth a look, seriously). Cazimi – Foul Play was a classy highlight from their new record, while Kürøishi – Deal With It—off the tongue-twisting Käärme sisälläsi, myrkyttää maailmani—reminded us that Finnish crust remains undefeated.

Finally, we came full circle with OORYA – Horse, from the stunning Who Are Ya album on 9x9 Records—a perfect close to a night of raw emotion, distortion, and just the right amount of hangover.

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Playlist – Louder Than War Radio #197

• Katzenmuzik & Feral Whispers – You Don’t Do Politics Do You?

• House Proud – Rescue Dog

• The Dogs – I Didn’t Ask

• Dogsflesh – March Of The Damned

• Eve Libertine & Eva Leblanc – Rocky Eyes

• The Puncturists – Sceptre

• NEXØ – Concentration

• Minge Wizard – Train To Trutnov

• Decibel – Wearing The Mask

• Maggie Thatcher’s Rotting Corpse – Let’s All Spit On Kier Starmer

• David Delinquent & The IOUs – Everybody Loves You

• Value Of Nothing – Die Verge

• Cock Batteth – Soul Digger

• Citric Dummies – Dropped Out Of Punk

• Bossmags – Ghost Ships

• Wiccans – Crucifixion

• Salt The Snail – Ideasman

• Cazimi – Foul Play

• Kürøishi – Deal With It

• OORYA – Horse