“I know it’s hypocritical to point fingers at the people who point fingers…” starts the tenth song on the fan favorite ska-punk-power-pop record, Scrambles. This is the first of many acknowledgements that Jeff Rosenstock, the man on the proverbial soapbox during “(Shut) Up The Punx!!!”, isn’t free from the shackles of what he’s raging against. But, there is a problem in punk and a multitude of other music scenes; one that actively pushes out people who may have found a home in that culture. After all, most underground music scenes, once founded by the outcasted, now have a set of unwritten rules you have to abide by out of fear of being disregarded by potential peers. Of course, this isn’t to say that problematic characters who emit negativity should be welcomed with open arms (Nazis, racists, sexual harassers, and all other assholes), but, as Jeff puts it, “… we could stand to be nicer.”
These strict guidelines don’t just boot ‘different’ people; they rot the very core of a counterculture. By making frivolous rules like “Vegans only, no meat allowed / Straight edge only, no drinking allowed / Fixed gears only, no three-speeds allowed”, you’re building a layer of conformity that’s hard to see from the inside of the group. Groupthink ideals that say different subgenres or suggestions are ‘not punk/rock/metal/trve enough’ pigeonhole progression. Rather, it creates a childish superiority complex (“Like God speaks through my acoustic guitar…”), a gatekeeping pseudo-authority (“Follow these conditions or we’ll kick your ass out…”), and ironic…
On the very first podcast, we talk about Christian Scott Atunde Adjuah, Moon Tooth, Billie Eillish, Lentic Waters, and Lord Snow, as well as our recent pickups and projects. It’s a hoot and a half.
At the time of writing this, I don’t know where Remorse are from, I don’t know when they formed, I don’t know even who they are. What I do know that they are an oppressively harsh sludge group that offers a blackened, noisy approach to the kind of metal played by bands like Dystopia, Grief, and Eyehategod. It’s a intense sound, one that feeds into paranoia and anxiety (this is a positive, mind you), but is also fiery and cathartic, biting at anyone dumb enough to get close to it. There’s some subtle melodies hidden underneath but, that’s not what you or I are here for, we’re here for the distorted noise and pummeling, industrial percussion, as well as the dissonant, murky guitar and bass tones.
But, other than sound and mission statement (“Think about your faults. Remorse is entirely antifascist and intersectional feminist”), I know very little about the project and, because I’m either a curious writer or a nosey prick (take your pick), I’m very eager to get a hold of them and ask a few questions. I’m also very eager to spread the word about their record, Inward, as it’s a hell of an introduction to the world of sludge metal. It’s very obviously a labor of hatred to the evils and prejudices of mankind, the kind of which that’s made to suck your soul out of your body as you headbang along.
This series is a new effort to highlight artists on Bandcamp by talking with them, discussing their music, and why I find it rad.
Mental Fatal, a three piece out of New Zealand, are the definition of a garage punk group. Rough around the edges in all the right ways, the group is the kind of project made for the internet age of music distribution – DIY punk with enough energy to take down a fortress (one most likely made of capitalism). Using that raw aesthetic that hundreds of bands try to either shed or embrace to their advantage, songs like “Jeffree,” “Reckless Times,” and “Burning People” all bring that snotty groove and power pioneered by the likes of the Circle Jerks and the Dead Kennedys and the burning intensity of Choking Victim.
Because I so earnestly believe in the quality of their product and admire the fruits of their labor, I wanted to shine a spotlight on these garage-destroyers from Christchurch and their lovable jams – below you will find a condensed showcase of the brand of throw-a-chair-through-window punk titled The Virus. It’s a lively little bugger, short enough for you to listen to on a lunch break or between chores (or whatever you may be doing with your time), but long enough for the band to make their presence known to the listener.
I had even had an opportunity to ask the group some questions:
that band with the 3.6 seconds of free jazz after the riff
In the past month, we’ve welcomed a widely-diverse group of users into the fold, four of which made the grade and got the illustrious Staff tag and all that came with it. To mark this occasion, we took some time to get to know our new Staff members, each getting an interview like no other. For volume one, we sat with Clavier to see what got her to this point…
Alright, so first and foremost, congratulations on the well-deserved promotion to staff.
Thank you! It still feels a bit weird to think about that, because I remember going on Sputnik many years back and thinking “yeah, I’m never going to be able to write a review”.
I see a lot of current contributors and staff members had the same mindset, just dropping in quietly, putting a review or two out, never thinking it’d be anything too major. But what do you know? I guess something clicked one day for you?
I actually have to credit verdant’s writing as the initial inspiration for me. I’m not sure why exactly I had the sudden urge to write my first piece, but I recall reading his stuff back in May 2017 and thinking about how lyrical reviews could come across as. It made me realize that the review format was a lot more flexible than I’d initially thought of it as.
Despite the name, noise rock gone post punk group Ed Schrader’s Music Beat is primarily two people, Ed Schrader and Devlin Rice. Both take part in writing and performing brilliantly sharp hooks and idiosyncratic melodies, especially on the superb Riddles, which you can read about here. Alternatively you could listen to the album or see them live, check this bandcamp for their albums and information on their tour.
I recently had a chance to ask Ed Schrader himself a few questions about modern music, what music means to him, and more.
Sean:Thank you so much for your time, I’d like to start with one specific question. What does music mean to you?
Ed: I don’t think I am qualified to answer this but I’ll try. When I am not on tour or performing, music just means a fun place where I can escape judgment entering in and out of many worlds of sound. Sometimes it’s nostalgia and comfort, like listening to an early 90’s playlist. Other times it is escape, that’s when I turn to Elton John’s Ice On Fire, a weird, polished, mechanical mess that always pleases! Music is tofu – it’s whatever you want.
Sean: Music has a big part in all of our lives. When did you first get into music? Who were your original go-to artists? Do you think their influences have a part in your current style?
One thing that really frustrates me about visual art is the reactions of general distaste from my peers towards postmodern projects. Empty clichés masked as snide criticisms (“anyone could make that,” “give me ten minutes and I could pour paint on a canvas,” “it’s just a urinal”) fill the air during discourse and it’s admittedly frustrating. I admit that minimalism and gratuitous abstract mindsets can lead to lazy techniques or general pretentiousness, but it’s hard to ignore regular pot shots towards a whole movement that pushes the boundaries of art, especially when said weak quips subtract any context from the works. Maybe I sound too upset and defensive over criticisms towards an art form. People don’t have to like what they don’t like, but, ironically enough, shouts of laziness and cynicism are often just that, lazy and cynical.
Similarly, it’s hard for me to understand why people still want to exclude noise and, to a lesser extent, musique concrète from the descriptor of “music.” Is this not the kind of thing that art masters like Dali and Duchamp fought against? Rather than letting abstract terms like those maintain fluidity and escape semantics This idea that art or music has a limit, seems exclusive and demeaning to the multitudes of experimental artists who use bizarre tools to craft something representing and relating to our inherently volatile and complex human emotions.
After all, not just anyone could use harsh, demanding sonic landscapes of various moods like artists like Kazumoto Endo, Mo*Te,…
Despite how fantastic of a sales pitch it is, I can’t help but feel like I’m doing Panoptic Horror a disservice by describing it as “Hell Awaits era Slayer meets crust punk.” That feeling mostly comes down to the fact that, although they’re not trying to hide their influences, they’re definitely their own thing. The killer LP is a primo slab of ripping thrash with a death metal tinge, all the while borrowing the production, punk ethos and overdrive technique from a band like Sacrilege or Anti-Cimex. No matter who or what you hear in it, it’s the kind of sinister shit that conjures images of grotesque demons, airborne bricks, broken bones and/or searing flesh in the mind of the listener.
In other words, if Hell had a mosh pit, this would be the soundtrack. –Bloon
As the decade draws to a close, 2018 has proven to be one of the more interesting years from it. Looking at the metal genre as a collective, this year has seen an internal struggle with artistic innovation and corporate, algorithmic songwriting; futilely homogeneous and insipid mainstream metal releases versus the heavy lifting and sometimes groundbreaking works from the underground scenes – of which there has been a good handful…
I feel somewhat reticent talking about Yung Lean, let alone his latest, Poison Ivy. Whatever I write drips with ignorance, despite my love for the 22-minute project; and in some sense, that’s unavoidable. An air of mystique has always seemed to surround the Swedish rapper – as though those uninitiated were being poked at, and even the most meaningful of lyrics were being delivered with a grin and a wink. That might be the point, though: Jonatan Leandoer’s mainstream success seems neither obvious nor miraculous. Likewise, the “point” is one unattainable. Or rather, an “understanding” is useless – condescending and maybe even a little counter-intuitive. Yung Lean makes music – and that music is good – and Poison Ivy is good – and whatever meaning there is to be gleaned is meaning to be gleaned from the music itself. From the dark and distorted overtones of the mixtape’s more obvious, hook-driven choruses, and the incoherence of its central figure. I think cultural aesthetic is helpful in hooking one into a scene and its artists; but often – as is the case with Poison Ivy – the music itself speaks volumes. And Poison Ivy speaks in tongues. –BlushfulHippocrene
ITEM, a Cleveland-based indie rock group, came into my life as a surprise discovery by a friend. I was immediately entranced by the sleepy absurdity of Sad Light, which ends up juxtaposing heavily with its most poignant moments — tales of environmental destruction and emotional dysfunction meeting with non-sequiturs and childlike playfulness. I spoke to Dylan Glover, the band’s vocalist and synth player, about the themes and basis of Sad Light, his take on composition, and the importance of humour in ITEM’s music.
This transcript has been condensed and edited.
It seems like there is a lot of absurdity, humour, and medical references in the lyrics. How did you come to settle on these particular themes for Sad Light?
I’m wondering how to even begin answering that, because one thing begets another thing begets another thing. How it began — I’m trying to think what the first song I wrote was on the record. Lyrically, I want to say it was “Horse Pill”, which is inherently medical — it is related to pharmaceutical drugs and my problem with them — so that opened the floodgates for the rest of the album to have a medicinal, medical theme; there’s a lot of mention of medical environments, hospitals. It was because that laid the groundwork for all of those themes that it just kept expanding on those basic ideas. And absurdist humour is just me coming out in full form — I feel like if I didn’t respect…
Is there an artist from the 2000’s who is bigger than Kanye West? If not, he’s at least somewhere in the top 5…and regardless of whether or not you love him or hate him – whether you find his antics annoying or endearing – the man can sure as hell write music. Kanye’s rise to stardom coincided with the growth of internet culture, and as such, his footprint is all over Sputnik. Our staff grew up listening to his music, so we’ve decided to take his his entire body of work into consideration for the construction of a Top 10 Songs list. There are sure to be predictable entries as well as some surprises. Check out our carefully curated list, and be sure to comment with your own!
(10) Father Stretch My Hands
from the album The Life of Pablo
Both parts of “Father Stretch My Hands” are a ridiculous fucking mess. I mean they’re like a quickfire montage of unfinished songs dating anywhere from 808s through to Yeezus, featuring not one but two of West’s greatest choruses that could easily grace chart-topping stadium hits, but in very Life of Pablo fashion instead wrap around the famous bleached asshole, a…
My attention first turned towards Basalte, a black metal band based in Montréal, when I heard their 2018 sophomore release, Vertige [lit. “vertigo”]. It’s at once desolate, bleak, towering, and yet intensely heartfelt at its most elegant moments; listen closely and the nuances will surely envelop you. I spoke to the band’s drummer, L, to learn more about the band and their compositions; we also discussed band optics, songwriting processes, and the state of black metal. In regards to Vertige, L was particularly proud of how its technical aspects came together: the album did not involve digital delay or reverb, and a conscious choice was made to avoid studios in lieu of specific, unconventional places that would provide the exact acoustics desired.
*This interview has been edited and condensed.
Claire: First, I wanted to know about how your band chooses to present itself, especially in the age of social media and constant exposure. Do you find anonymity to be more useful than ever, in a social media-saturated environment?
L: There are many answers to this question. The first one is that I personally don’t really like associating faces too much with the music I listen to, and the fact that metal is one of the genres where bands tend to not put their image too much upfront… well, that’s not true of all metal, but for example, Deathspell Omega — or…
Thrice is one of the most versatile bands of our generation, evolving from a post-hardcore outfit to atmospheric rockers and even political statesmen. Their rise in the early 2000’s peaked with The Artist In The Ambulance and Vheissu, but they’ve aged even better – with The Alchemy Index proving their experimental worth and Beggars offering some of their most important lyrical content to date. With Palms a mere week away from release, our staff felt that there would be no better time to reflect upon the top ten songs of this influential, generational band. With so much superb content to choose from, it just might have been our toughest ranking so far.
(10) Open Water
from the album The Alchemy Index Vol. II: Water
Thrice’s Water EP once provided me with one of the most transportative listening experiences of my life, which is strange because to this day I’ll reach for Fire or Air in a pinch every time. But in my childhood home, surrounded by mist like it frequently was and weirdly elevated from ground level at the back window like it always was, I sat listening to “Open Water” and staring out into a back garden I couldn’t see past a couple of metres. Some combination of Kensrue’s bone-weary mariner’s narration, the muffled dirge of the music and the weather outside made my teenage self feel in another place and time entirely, the first instance I can remember…
Here’s a list of major new releases for the week of September 7th, 2018. Please feel free to request reviews for any of the following albums from staff and/or contributors. As our staff post reviews of these albums, links will appear below the artwork (if we remember…) so that you can read about the release, see how we scored it, and more.
Featured Release
Clutch – Book of Bad Decisions Genre: Hard Rock / Stoner Rock / Blues Label: Weathermaker
The ever-enduring groove/funk/blues/stoner/boogie masterminds might be 25 years removed from their debut, but there are no signs of slowing down for the Maryland-based quartet. Instead, the band have settled into a sweet spot with their genre-bending formula, tweaking elements and ingredients album-by-album so that each record is a sonic shape-shifter (bringing in producer Vance Powell once again) while adhering to the Clutch blueprint. Book of Bad Decisions keeps this train running, bringing in additional brass instrumentation to complement the ‘weaponized funk’ on lead single “In Walks Barbarella”, while the slide guitar-laden “Hot Bottom Feeder” – complete with Maryland crab cakes recipe in the video – and rollicking “Gimme the Keys” further illustrate the record’s diversity in sound. There’s plenty of snarky social commentary as well – see “How to Shake Hands” for instance – and the album’s fervent energy parallels the band’s… 25 years and counting!
Here’s a list of major new releases for the week of August 31st, 2018. Please feel free to request reviews for any of the following albums from staff and/or contributors. As our staff post reviews of these albums, links will appear below the artwork (if we remember…) so that you can read about the release, see how we scored it, and more.
Featured Release
Alkaline Trio: Is This Thing Cursed? Genre: Pop-Punk / Punk / Alternative Label: Epitaph
Is This Thing Cursed?, the band’s ninth LP, is their first in five years. From the underwhelming run of Agony & Irony, This Addiction, and My Shame is True to Matt Skiba joining up with blink-182 in 2015, it seemed as though Alkaline Trio might have been on life support. In the spirit of NCAA football starting up, though, we turn to the inimitable Lee Corso, who might say: “Not so fast, my friend!” Long known for their darkness and acerbic bite in comparison to the Sum 41s or aforementioned blinks of the pop-punk sphere, songs like “Demon and Division” are reminiscent of what you might hear on Maybe I’ll CatchFire, “I Can’t Believe” spins a caustic view of current American politics, and “Goodbye Fire Island” intersects Lord of the Flies imagery with the unmitigated disaster that was the Fyre Festival. Coupled with pre-release singles “Blackbird” and the title track (the latter of which kicks off the record and is the first…
