#osbo

Bad Breeding, Contempt LP (Iron Lung/One Little Independent)

Bad Breeding are back to crash your dinner party, armed with exhaustive pamphlets and not letting up on arguments about housing crises well past the point of decor. They have been singularly adept at cataloging the damaged, bleak, backwards, corrupt and blind state of the world, and have done so across a set of blistering LPs and their accompanying essays. Exiled is still my favorite, but I thought the band stumbled a bit on the follow-up Human Capital. The long tracks on Human Capital feel every bit their length, but listening back today, I think "Joyride," "Arc Eye" and "Straw Man" buoy the album with ease around the title track and "Rebuilding." Contempt could be considered a much sharper version of Human Capital, ripe with feedback, near-metal riffing and righteous fury as before, but still extending track lengths with mixed results. The best part of the album, and maybe of Bad Breeding's discography to date, is "Liberty" into "Discipline": the former cold-worked into a frenzied noise over two pummeling minutes, and the latter doing the most with drums, feedback and barked vocals, fighting desperately against being swallowed whole. While they don't touch that peak again on the album (and not many could), "Temple of Victory" and "Vacant Paradise" are furious pounding tracks that, when isolated from the album, pack some real heat. Over the course of the record, the band's relentless sound can wipe out distinctions between tracks, or worse, as on the second half of "Guilded Cage / Sanctuary," drag the momentum to a complete halt. Those minor quibbles shouldn't deface what is an album full of the mid-tempo, bass-heavy, feedback-laden hardcore I'd prefer to hear, and in any case "Guilded Cage" fuckin' smokes. I'd take an album full of "Survival"s or "Retribution"s if it meant more punks railing against the systems in place as Bad Breeding so fervently advocates, rather than against like-minded (or not) peers. Maybe Contempt is asking too much of the discerning public, or maybe the earnestness is a turnoff, because the record can feel easy to dismiss as too reflective of what we can read about or experience without much effort every day. But there remains a fire within the record that feels vital, even if it's not the soundworld I want to enter every day. I think it's one of the best records of the year, not because it has to be, but because the band clawed and teared their way there, producing a ferocious album/package that digs deeply into the late-stage capitalist system we all suffer from. Contempt's not the solution, but it might well inspire it.

Klonns, Heaven LP (Iron Lung/Black Hole)

The most recent Deep Voices post had an interesting dive into perfection vs. originality in music, and Heaven is swinging for perfection in a genre more often satisfied with filth and murk. Here's a rare hardcore record that sounds polished, barely smudged with experimental touches on the edges, and emerging fully formed and fun as hell. Now labeling their sound "The new wave of Japanese hardcore," Klonns are near-bulletproof across Heaven, so much so that I somehow don't mind when they pull out a "GO!" vocal command every track. Gruff, raspy but still intelligible vocals sit comfortably on top of near-metallic riffs and drums that flash just enough to make sure you keep a distance. The resulting sound is roomy and comfortable, like an old hoodie, but with the sleeves cut off and reeking of VFW hall floors. I'll point you straight to "Beherit"/"Realm," the breakdown on the former serving as a primer for the guest vocals of Sailor Kannako ripping apart the end of the latter. The bruising riff at the end of "Nemesis" or the finale to "Replica" sound like a finely honed point rather than emulation: this is a band focused on what makes hardcore vital to them and executing it nearly flawlessly. The electronic intro/outro portions are nice touches to bookend an LP's worth of evidence of what a supportive punk scene can produce when everyone's aimed in the same direction. Sick and wildly unpretentious LP, beautifully packaged and bursting at the seams with music that begs to be experienced live. Maybe someday, but for now, this'll do.

Osbo, s/t 7" (Blow Blood)

A "gritty, modern classic of a hardcore record" you say? I'm as numb to label write-ups for their own records as anyone at this point but that's still a bold gambit to throw down, along with the Cold Sweat RIYL, but Blow Blood rules so here I am. I don't really think many have come close to Blinded except for that way under-appreciated Pious Faults LP, but the sound and attitude on Osbo earn that Cold Sweat comparison. I'll leave it to the real hardcore scholars as to the rest. The band previously released a demo back in the first wave of the Covid pandemic, which I am forgiving myself for missing, but might have to cop after hearing this EP. The vocalist is what sells it here, going full ugly for the duration, the kind of hardcore that would've lit up message boards back in the mutated reign of bands like Twin Stumps or Mayyors. Still works today, especially as a companion to that Bad Breeding LP, feral and ugly hardcore sagging under its own weight, probably causing the rooms they play in to sway like a ship in rough waters. I think "Say It to My Face" is the best track here, but it's hard to deny the nearly side-long "Time," a plodding, abrasive four-plus minutes that basically serves as a perfect showcase for the band's strengths: bass up front, uncomfortably ringing guitar, and the finest "AUGHHHH" I've heard in a minute. That track's worth the price of admission alone, and the artwork/design is aces, too. One hundo copies only, so go scoop yours from Sorry State (they still have the demo tape, too) posthaste.

Shop Regulars, s/t LP (Merrie Melodies)

Another fine recommendation from Matt K.'s Yellow Green Red here, the debut LP of Shop Regulars after a handful of limited, self-released cassettes that you or I will assuredly not own. That's just as well, because the LP's got plenty to unpack. The band sounds like prime Julian Casablancas fronting Horse Lords (or whatever rigidly asymmetric rock band you'd like) covering the Fall, all disjointed rhythms and knotty guitars paving a path for the most unbothered vocals. You'd be forgiven if you're conjuring visions of bands like Dirty Projectors or other lauded indie bands that felt like homework to listen to from that ill-fitting descriptor, but it gives twice what it takes and even tiptoes into spine-tingling on the 11+ minutes of "Emerson Run Down." The two guitars calling back-and-forth in the middle of that track gets me every time, even though you know where it's going, and it sounds like the rest of the band falls into place in real time and thankfully captures it all on tape. The whole record has this loose-but-tight feel, which in the wrong hands can feel very annoying, but here it's anchored by the performances of the patient vocalist and the drummer ready to fill any available void. Doesn't mean the drummer has to work overtime: the restraint on "7 Winds," which utilizes repetition like The Double, chases the spiraling cut-short guitar riff ad nauseam. There is a bed of real feeling here, not the robotic core that bands trafficking in uncomfortable time signatures, repetition and overlapping movements often do. It all makes Shop Regulars surprisingly durable, even helping me maintain a cool head in unbearable traffic earlier this week. Somehow a portion of the 200 copies are still readily available from the link above, but I can't imagine that'll be the case for long.

Sin Tax, Abnegation 7" (Miracle Cortex)