Articles by Jared Dix
If you’re in the mood for some zone out drone psych it absolutely hits the spot.
Riff driven, horror themed, chunks of heavy metal good times.
moisturizer finds Wet Leg growing into their power and it’s a great summer album, catchy, fun, witty, in love.
On the release of ‘Horses’, the second track ahead of their forthcoming EP Manic Pixie Dream Pop Jared Dix has a quick word with Birmingham electro-punks Monoxide Brothers.
A little cosmic, a little shambolic but mostly an album in love with the limitless joy of sound.
Despite the pain that twists through it this is a very human and beautiful recording.
Massive and imposing, the sound is also warm and detailed. It’s a glorious noise to get lost in.
An extraordinary patchwork of sounds set out with the bold geometry and clear, bright, colour palette of their artwork.
Wrong Speed veterans put a shift in at the art-punk foundry.
The new line-up brings some amazing vocal harmonies and puts the sax up front and centre. Less cosmic journey and more raucous rock ‘n’ roll dance party. It’s melodious and bold, not jazz or atonal skronk. The overall effect is very 70s in feel though, amped up rock ‘n’ roll, proto punk. Strikingly unfashionable but undeniably tremendous fun.
This one then, is a history lesson, part of a continuing examination of an extraordinary cultural contribution. It awaits your curiosity.
Collapsing thirty odd years of underground rock weirdness into something powerful and sticky.
Angry and absurd, sharply constructed. It’s pretty much everything you want from a fourth mclusky album.
Is Lancashire’s history as blood soaked as Midsomer? In the meantime this is, ahem, killer stuff.
Death Hilarious finds Pigs firing on all cylinders, cranking out the huge riffs and pile driver rhythms in a haze of noise and distortion. Still seriously fun.
On their fourth album Snapped Ankles are more themselves than ever, doubling down on their core idea of dance as a powerful therapy against harsh reality
The thing is, Alabama 3 are true believers, in their radical politics and loose outsider stance but most of all in the healing and transcendent power of music. Cynicism just doesn’t get you this far down the road, they’re just not earnest, or solemn. Because acid house and country music aren’t either.
The results are pretty much exactly what you expect, an abrasive industrial hellscape with screaming.
Yaang are fully carbonated and unnecessarily caffeinated, they have a short attention span, a drum machine and at least one dubious moustache.
Essentially Rattle is all rhythm and chant and yet it is totally unlike that shaking hoodoo mania thing, completely different to all the spooky drones and incense types.
