‘Emerging Volume V’ is their latest foray into pushing the scene, giving young musicians (aged 15-25) from Sussex the chance to rehearse, record and release their music. With funding from Arts Council England, it’s a perfect opportunity to show the ins and outs of the business, to feed a dream and hopefully, make strides within the industry. What it also showcases is the variety of sounds coming out from the city. For the sake of branding, we’ll look at some of the most Punktastic adjacent tracks, however it would be remiss of us not to recommend soaking in the album as a whole. 

There’s a real grunge revival in the city, and a couple of tracks exemplify this perfectly. Sick-Days’ ‘Aniseed’ is a fully-fleshed grunge by shoegaze thrasher, thick with a captivating bassline that’s as nauseating as it is thunderous. Near whispered vocals break into a far coarser delivery at the chorus, and you can almost feel the floor bend underfoot as it would at The Hope And Ruin at a live showing. 

Similarly, M. Woodroe’s ‘Fog Of War’ follows a similar route, tinged with angst and an eerily atmospheric, its use of the loud-quiet-loud technique allows the verses to breathe before building to a deceptively hooky chorus.

It’s not all 90’s throwbacks though, as Insectus’ ‘Domesticated’ is an absolutely filthy blend of prog nu-metalcore that absolutely swallows everything around it. Thick breakdowns, harmonic pinches aplenty and a chorus that screams Jonathan Davis, it’s the heaviest track amongst its peers, and stands out accordingly, jarring you away from the softer inclusions and smashing your face against the wall. If you don’t have neck ache already (we at Punktastic are in our 30s), you definitely will by the time this track finishes. 

Mirepoix’s ‘Juice’ is a soulful take on the spoken word post-punk genre. Pseudo-poetic musings on the monotony of life and the existentialism that comes with it, it breaks into bluesy wails that’re more dexterous than expected given the first half of the track. It simmers subtly, jangles in the right places and is underpinned by a bassline that holds every other element together. 

For those who like their mathcore tinged with a hint of fifth wave emo, the delightfully named ‘Let Me Sit and Think About It’ by Bedbugz will scratch that itch. An intricate guitar line builds throughout the opening verse before a stained chorus crashes. As the track progresses, the vocals become more desperate, more pleading, more real. There is genuine feeling in the delivery, that coupled with the slick instrumentation leaves it lingering in the most affecting way.  

Amongst the mentioned tracks, there’s more traditional rock songs from the likes of Carva, indie alternative from Bench Team and Fred Bennett, pop punk adjacent tracks from IN HER EYES and mydiary, and experimental post-punk from the likes of Swan Deep and Hollowpoint. There’s literally something for everyone. A definite shoutout is required to the Small Pond team themselves, whose curation of the tracklist has created a compilation that runs seamlessly from start to finish with little diversion or missed moments. 

Small Pond’s ‘Emerging Volume V’ showcases the best of Brighton and the surrounding area, shining a light on the city in a way that only they can. It’s proof that the music scene is still as vibrant as ever, and the future looks just as bright. Personally, as a local to the city itself, it’s one of our greatest strengths. Long may it continue.

ANDY JOICE

James Kent’s 8th studio album, ‘Age Of Aquarius’ doesn’t need to leave you wondering where you are, it’s pretty obvious within the first song, we’re the future baby and you might as well accept it and enjoy the ride.

The opening track, ‘Apocalypse Now’, whilst not the strongest song on the album, features lyrics which are already fast becoming a reality. Norwegian guests Ulver’s echoing vocals combined with a drum drenched in 80s reverb really sets in a haunting tone which only develops throughout the rest of the album, creating a darkwave disco that will be stuck in your head.

Setting the stage for the world ‘Age of Aquarius’ is building is ‘Lunacy’. Back to just industrial synths and running beats, this track throws us into the future with a bang. Starting slow, building up tempo and then halting with a small breakdown not even a minute in, ‘Lunacy’ creates a sense of wonder and you can’t help but feel like you might need to be running away from something.

If you’d missed that classic thumping beat of Perturbator than look no further than ‘The Art of War’. It’s what we’ve all come to love about the musician, whining drones and the feel that you should really be in the Berlin club scene wearing tiny sunglasses and a mass of black PVC.

The thing that ‘Age of Aquarius’ does well to build a narrative is change the tone over the course of a few songs. Moving on to ‘Lady Moon’; a track that can’t help but be sexy with siren like vocals from singer Greta Link and a constant heart beat drum filling our ears with an uneasy dread. We’re still in a Berlin club, but something isn’t feeling quite right.

Bringing the feel more serene and calming is ‘Swimming Pool’. We all need a break sometimes and that’s what this song is. A track of pure piano and ethereal chimes, ‘Swimming Pool’ creates the sense of just that, a swimming pool. Floating, freeing and wonderfully devoid of chaos. If you ever feel the need for sleep or meditative music, this is the one… until the final 30 seconds where a snippet of the film Bride of the Re-Animator talks about the rejection of God. The film itself is based loosely upon a H.P Lovecraft collection of short stories and if anyone was the king of apocalyptic futures, it was him.

The title track rounds off the album with a sense of uncertainty and unease. It might be the longest song on the album but it’s a beautiful conclusion. A slow start building to droning, tribal vocals and ending with that classic Perturbator thumping heart of a beat, ‘Age of Aquarius’ almost gives the listener a hopeful ending.

Perturbator is a magician with electronic music and this album is proof that he isn’t going anywhere. Whether you just enjoy listening to uneasy darkwave or a more gentle synthwave vibe, ‘Age of Aquarius’ has something for any Perturbator fan whether old or new. If anything, it’s a wonderful soundtrack to listen to whilst enjoying our current dystopian nightmare.

KAT OSTICK

Before we go any further, there’s a slight elephant in the room. Following on from the success of 2019-early 2020 – the extensive touring, general burnout and not listening to the warning signs of his body –  frontman extraordinaire Matt Bigland was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease and, subsequently rediagnosed with ulcerative colitis. Taking its toll on him physically, mentally and spiritually, it threw everything back into perspective – being famous and getting cool doesn’t amount to shit if you’re not here to see it. I strongly recommend going through the 4-part mini doc on the official Dinosaur Pile-Up instagram (Dec 2024) for Bigland’s direct account but let me confirm here, the dude went through a journey. HOWEVER, during the height of his illness, when people would ask him how he felt, his response would always be ‘I’ve Felt Better’ to hide the deep and daily layers of trauma he was experiencing. And thus, the title of their latest release was born. 

As a title track, ‘I’ve Felt Better’ hits like vintage Dinosaur Pile-Up. Big singalong choruses and machine gun delivered verses pertaining to everything that changed between Bigland’s hiatus from social media/admission to hospital, and his release down the line. Pop culture references are rife, with references to a certain person being ‘a Nazi’ and another changing genre to punk, it’s the sort of statement you would be rubbing your eyes to wake up from if you’d been isolated for two years. 

Opening track and lead single ‘’Bout To Lose It’ is the perfect reintroduction to Dinosaur Pile-Up for those who’ve missed the threesome, and a perfect initial introduction for the uninitiated. Thundering distortion, Bigland’s distinctive vocals and ferocious drumming from Mike Sheils fill your ears. It’s effortlessly catchy, with a chorus line that’ll be stuck to your ears like marmalade toast sticking to the floor, before a gentle acoustic fill prior to the sudden explosion of the final chorus reminds you that they can play soft when they need to. 

‘Love’s The Worst’ is a good example of them teasing expectations. Gentle, tactful, and built around a minor melody, it’s a classic breakup song of melancholic verses before a viciously delivered chorus. Bigland’s strength has always been in making his writing approachable, and ‘Love’s The Worst’ continues that trend; it’s poetry, but more like Rupi Kaur than Wordsworth; less flounce and more punch (although also less fingersnaps and more fingers up). The fact is, there’s very little subtlety, there’s no hidden messages. The day they leave you do want to die, and love is the best until it’s the worst, and that makes it eminently relatable. 

‘Punk Kiss’ has one of the grungiest intros we’ve heard from DPU for a while, with crunchy rhythms and squeals of guitar, while second single ‘My Way’ feels like the spiritual successor to 2019’s ‘Back Foot’ – sardonic, rapidfire vocals, a hiphop beat and hook that’ll get your feet moving. Lyrically, where ‘Back Foot’ is an expression of a struggling musician trying to make it big, ‘My Way’ works as the sort of antithesis of that; fuck everyone else, do what makes you happy. 

‘Sunflower’ feels like a traditional rock song – the kind of song that would makes you appreciate and yearn for old Foo Fighters. Uplifting to its core, it’s about moving on, growing and appreciating the path you’re on. “The sunflowers couldn’t grow without the rain” is a message that exemplifies the summery vibe throughout, but it’s Jim Cratchley’s bass that really leans into that sunlight feel. It carries the entire melody, never once stepping on the toes of Shelis or Bigland, but gling everything together.

‘Unfamiliar’ is a playful reflection of Bigland’s inner psyche, with instrumentation that could’ve come off straight from the Viagra Boys discography, complete with whistling through the second verse and background sound effects (admittedly, a staple of the DPU sound) while closer ‘I Don’t Love Nothing And Nothing Loves Me’ puts a stamp on loneliness; sombre and strangely eerie, it’s a personal end to an album of thematic ups and downs, replicating Bigland’s journey over the past half decade. 

‘I’ve Felt Better’ is a compendium of the last five years; breakdowns in old relationships, building of new relationships, health scares, societal changes, and everything in between. Despite some of the more sombre themes, it’s a record of positivity and adjustment, being grateful for what you have and appreciating the little things. It’s achingly personal at points, genuinely hilarious at others, and full of more hooks than a tackle shop, and absolute proof that Dinosaur Pile-Up are back, and this album is guaranteed to make you feel better.

ANDY JOICE

Opening with ‘THE DAGGER’, you’ll know within 45 seconds whether you’re onboard for the ride – rumbling guitars, thick bass lines and drumming that is deceptively fluid, the impact is immediate. Couple that with the saxophone flourishes and the vocals like barked orders, they’ll rapidly become a must listen. Within its aggressive delivery, it’s a song that pointedly derides the extremist right-wing culture in this country, and its despicable treatment of immigrants.

Politics plays an important part in ‘Glitter’, with Knives firmly (and correctly) leaning into inclusivity of all groups, both within diversity groups and the LGBTQ+ communities, and standing up for those minorities. Fighting against the injustices and creating a safe environment.

‘RHINESTONE COWBOY’ isn’t as saccharin as Glenn Campbells, it’s more like finding the remains of a bejewelled shirt in the mud; grotty, unsightly but utterly captivating, it’s the (slightly ironically cowboy-theme named) Ben Marshall’s bass lines that stand out. Thunderously dexterous, with quicker hands than John Wayne in a standoff, they lead the melody through most of ‘GLITTER’, but none more-so than here.

Standout single ‘PHD’ highlights the toxicity of the music industry, with Jay Schottlander bellowing the line “you owe your success to me!” being a direct quote from someone within the industry. Aside from adding harmonies, Izzi Allard’s saxophone sticks out throughout the song adding delicious seasoning and a meticulous middle finger to said industry slug. It’s one of the more accessible tracks in the record, so the perfect song to use as an introduction to Knives as a whole, encapsulating both their pop-punk and hardcore elements.

‘PUBLIC JUICE’ opens with a catchy riff that’s then harmonized by Allard’s sax before descending into pure carnage between the verse and chorus. It’s the sort of chaotic instrumentation Viagra Boys lean into often, but fits here appropriately.

‘CHROMA’ features a rumbling bassline like a the vibrations of a high speed train while ‘EAT THY NEIGHBOUR’ is held tightly by Erin Cook’s sensational drumming. Every member is unbelievably tight, managing to keep a balance between chaos.

Closing track ‘I SEE THEM ALL’ takes a bit of a different step from the preceding track, both in terms of length (the only one to last longer than three minutes) and style; far more atmospheric, its acoustic guitar, meandering saxophone and droning ambients lays the base for Schottlander to stride over. It’s the first time we get a real view of his singing voice, and his delicate, near whispered delivery is Mark Lanegan esque. Just as you think it’s about to explode, it double downs, maintaining the same vibe in a freer fashion. It’s a wonderful palette pleaser that almost catches you by surprise.

As mentioned, post-punk is a tricky genre. Aside from being relatively unapproachable to non listeners, it’s also a genre starting to become more full of bands trying their hand at successfully breaking into, and subsequently, out of it. Luckily, Knives are exactly the sort of band that rises to the band. Sonically, they’re powerful and interesting; lyrically, they’re impassioned. It’s that balance between explosive yet insightful that will help push them to the top of a crowded genre. ‘GLITTER’ exemplifies this as a unique, punchy and, most importantly, outstanding debut release. 

ANDY JOICE

Opening with the anthemic ‘Man Made Of Meat’, it could slip into any of their previous albums, a hint at their sonic consistency. Bouncy rhythms, a subtly infectious hook, and an actual burp in the first verse, it’s the lyrics that stick out – references to Chandler Bing dying in a freak hot tub accident, and looking at your mum’s Only Fans to look at her “flappy giblets”, it’s sardonic and reflective of the culture, something they’re particularly adept at doing.

Similarly, ‘The Bog Body’ and ‘Uno II’ follow their tried and tested method of mixing obscure analogies and thunderous instrumentation. Henrik Höckert’s bassline is the real delivery method in the former, with brass and synth licks riding over it whilst portraying the message of physical jealousy – in this case with the body of a woman trapped in ice. ‘Uno II’ meanwhile is the biographical personification of vocalist Sebastian Murphy’s greyhound who, during a year of ill health, would wake up with less teeth than he had before he visited the vets – he’s a mischievous bastard, old Bogdan the Croatian or Australian vet.

While there may be some subtle hints at Murphy taking aim at conspiracy nuts in ‘Uno II’, the crosshairs are far more deliberate in ‘Pyramid Of Health’ – long wails of distortion and a very 90s Beck feel are peppered with thick rhythms and pounding synths. References to licking trees, sacrificial goats, wearing specific accessories and drinking sludge, he might as well specify which crystals will clear up your boils and how many ground up leaves to shove up your arse to help your sore throat. For Murphy, it’s all the same – bullshit.

Perhaps the most quote/unquote traditional song is ‘Medicine For Horses’. It’s a fair distance from most of Viagra Boys’ discography, far slower and gentler (till now), with Murphy singing – a genuine rarity over his normal spoken word delivery – and although he might not have the strongest of pipes, he’s evoke such fragility and sentiment that causes lumpy throats and watery eyes. A love song, even if there’s a tinge of nihilism within the lyrics.

‘Store Policy’ rings with an almost industrial vibe, dense synths and distorted, echoey vocals while ‘You N33d Me’ has a discordant post-punk vibe; chunky rhythms, pulsing synths and guitars, and a scattering of caustic brass squeals adding to the nauseating atmosphere.

Hey, remember when we said ‘Medicine For Horses’ was the most tender track in their discography with the caveat of “till now”? Yeah, it’s a short lived achievement. Closer ‘River King’ is a full piano ballad, with Murphy’s falsetto vocals, melancholic trumpets and ambient cafe background noise being the only additions. Despite the minor key, it’s laced with romance, with Viagra Boys ditching the subtle chalk outlines to paint with watercolours instead – “Go get Chinese food / Tastes like sour meat / Looking at you / Everything feels easy” is a clear indication that even the most disappointing of circumstances are palatable with those you love.

Viagra Boys are no strangers to being a bit left field, and ‘viagr aboys’ feels perhaps their most left field album. Not because it’s particularly batshit, but because of how different it is. It’s more refined yet somehow more layered. It’s simpler but more complex in its delivery. There’s depths they’ve not plumbed before, and it’s all the stronger for it – from the atmospheric instrumentation to the softer balladic tracks, there is literally something for everyone. And no one. That’s the beauty of Viagra Boys.

ANDY JOICE

Their heart on their sleeve attitude and ability to grow and thrive under difficult conditions is something to be commended. Knocking out one of the greatest cover songs ever put to tape absolutely adds to that – Seriously, if you haven’t heard their cover of Sheryl Crow’s ‘If It Makes You Happy’, stop reading this and play it now, it’s absolutely stunning. Come back though, please.

Opening with ‘Feast or Famine’, there’s definitely a sense of growth, both in their writing and composition. Far more layered and dexterous, there’s a balance that wasn’t necessarily missing in their earlier work, but it’s certainly more pronounced. Crisper, cleaner but still maintaining the edge they’re known for. The opening twinkly medley may sound like the opening of every mid-west emo song, but it quickly gives way to something far thicker, far more interesting and, frankly, far more potent.

‘Tardy’ opens with a quote referencing “tackling kids, holding them to beds; is that psychotherapy?” before descending into a full conversation about industrial failures of health and educational systems towards the neuro-divergant. It’s here we see the real power of Jon Williams, who’s bass doesn’t just hold the main melodies, but dances about, subtly driving the track forwards, and follows suit on the following track ‘Murder Hornet Fursona’.

‘Murder Hornet Fursona’ screams with a PUP-esque energy; sardonic, punchy and some of their most pointed lyrics of their discography, it takes aim at those who judge the sexuality of others. Let’s be honest, the business of who loves and lusts after whom is solely for those involved, and anyone who judges someone for those traits can absolutely get in the bin. A hookline of “who’s pearls are you clutching now?” really sticks the dagger in to the prudes and, aside from being exceptionally memorable, would make for some excellent merch (Trademark Punktastic 2025).

Although MCP play the happy-sad punks, they write largely in a major key so it never feels too overwhelming. Songs like ‘Gracious’ and ‘Despite’ maintain a bouncier, jaunty side despite being so open, their lungs are on display. Elliott Brabant’s vocals allow a rugged fragility, gentle and tender at moments, spat venomously at another shows their ability to own their mistakes and accept consequences hits with a raw power.

Unashamed of pointing the finger, ‘Crypto’ calls out the crypto tech-dickheads who only see the world from looking down their nose, while ‘A Broken Face’ – a much more typical punk song both in sound and length – calls out the disparity between the class structure.

Lead single ‘Wisteria’ is a love song of kind – reflective and appreciated of the love and support received in the past. Brabant has their heart so on display, you can practically see it beating within their chest cavity like clouds through a window. It’s haunting, emotive and, despite being deeply personal, weirdly relatable. Close to 2018s ‘Portrait of a Woman on a Couch With Cats’, it’s chuggy and builds slowly, it’s main hook being the chorus line of “sorry I’ve been keeping you up”, it’s bound to be stuck on repeat.

Heading back to the opening point about Michael Cera Palin being brave – I knew I could bring it back around again – there aren’t many bands who can release a 12-minute song within this genre. The album namesake closing track clocks in at that length that takes more turns than a meandering river. Amongst the changes in sound, tone, style and delivery, Jon Buncic (who’s now left the band) pins everything together, remaining the consistent thread as Brabant wails and shreds, and Williams bounds around, peppering bassfills throughout. Focused on the journey of healing, it’s a sprawling epic that not only encapsulates their development as a band, but their development as people. Learning to heal each other and themselves, it’s this bravery that will fundamentally set them apart from their peers.

It’s been a long time coming for Michael Cera Palin to release their debut full length album, and ‘We Could Be Brave’ delivers more capably than the postman. Their progression as musicians and songsmiths are obvious, yet they’ve still kept the emotional edge that’s warmed them to so many. Having spent the last few years tirelessly touring to perfect their craft, letting their writing breathe for a year before recording, and letting the recording stew for a year till it’s reached the right consistency, there’s only one word for that foresight and ambition – Brave.

ANDY JOICE

‘Secret History’ opens the record in a promising way – ethereal, spacious verses of gentle synths and even gentler vocals from Conor Murphy, peppered with occasional triumphant horns give way to explosive full band choruses that exemplifies the frustration within the context. Reflecting on something everyone in their early thirties goes through – the consideration of whether the dream is over, whether you’re pissing your life away on the mundanity of life. 

Quickly followed by ‘Hell 99’, the entire band go heavier and quicker than any of their previous releases, the closest perhaps the coda to ‘Draw Down The Moon’s opening track ‘737’. Guitarist Eric Hudson screams throughout, adding a visceral edge to the lines ‘Is this all there is? Fuck Fuck Fuck’ as chaos ensues; pray for Hudson’s vocal chords if/when they start performing this at live shows. As with all Foxing songs, once the chaos reaches its peak, it fades into an atmospheric soundscape, as if all the rage, angst and apathy has dissipated leaving only the cathartic warm glow of acceptance.

‘Spit’ has an air of majesty to it, with thick, rhythmic beats allow Murphy to really wail in such a way that he must do a killer version of Prince’s ‘Kiss’ at Karaoke. His delivery is pitch perfect, never feels stretched and accompanies the funky guitars (think Gambino’s 3005’ and you’re kinda close) in the verses seamlessly. 

Given the name ‘Greyhound’, verses focus largely on aquatic metaphors; oversized whales in undersized lakes, the beauty of being underwater but focusing on breathing, and being tangled up in coral, it’s a picture of suffocation and uncomfortability in their surroundings, unironically struggling to stay afloat in a digitalised world. Rolling in at eight minutes long, it’s a slow building epic that’s layered with both poetry and melodies that hit you both in your ears and your soul.

‘Cleaning’ is largely synth led; not in a pounding party way, more in an uncomfortable electronic droning way like you’re playing it at half speed, while ‘Barking’ hits in a more traditional synthwave (possibly New Romantic) vibe as if it could’ve been dropped in the mid 80s. ‘Gratitude’ is similarly synthwave adjacent, with futuristic synths smattered throughout and a bouncy bassline from Brett Torrence. High levels of angst bleed from Murphy as he rages to feel something, anything other than an apathy for modern life. 

‘Kentucky McDonalds’s stoic and restrained opening instrumentation creates a dichotomy between Murphy’s eerie and uncomfortable vocals while ‘Looks Like Nothing’ swirls with ethereal wonder, breaking into a crescendo that is as sumptuous, satisfying and endlessly catchy. 

‘Dead Cat’ sifts through a serene dream of higher range vocals, bluesy guitars and sonic dissonance before leading straight into the bouncing the Placebo-esque ‘Dead Internet’ – both twinkly and punchy in equal weight, it’s the proof of their evolved sound wrapped in a sub-three minute bow. 

‘Hall Of Frozen Heads’ is undoubtedly a sprawling epic, starting with simple chords and tender vocals, it swells and builds as Murphy laments the unerring frailty of life – be it by crushing an egg, washed up jellyfish unable to return to the sea, or the destruction of a planet; it’s delicacy is matched only by ‘Cry Baby’. An elegant piano ballad aimed, presumably, at the band itself, it closes with an old voice recording of early-teen Hudson stating “I don’t think this song is as good as it could be, but it’s coming along” before slowly fading out. Their perfectionism continues to this day and, although they may be at each others throats during writing/record processes, it’s clear there is an inevitable love, appreciation and respect amongst the band.

In a month where we’ve seen a couple of reunited bands, one who never evolved their sound and one who evolved it too much, Foxing have ably hit that intricate balance of upskilling and progressing, without losing their distinctive sound. The softest parts are the most vulnerable they’ve ever been, while the heaviest parts are their most visceral to date. Often being included in the same song, it’s nothing but sheer hard work, perseverance and, frankly, stone cold ability that allows them to flow between sounds so clearly. If you like your music full of heart, honesty and some huge melodies, this is the album for you.

ANDY JOICE

Opening with ‘Bad Guy’, it’s a meandering, bass heavy track that slowly builds to a crescendo of harmonies and powerhouse instrumentation. Frontperson Alexia Roditis’ vocals are distinctive, bouncing between lackadaisical and soaring, and set the scene nicely for the remainder of the record. If you’re familiar with Destroy Boys, you’ll be accustomed to their rhythmic prowess, and ‘Bad Guy’ sits into their discography with ease.

‘Beg For The Torture’ contains some subtle but well placed cowbell and call-and-response vocals from Roditis and guitarist Violet Mayugba in what’s possibly their most hardcore track to date. ‘Amor Divino’, meanwhile, leans into a more latin vibe; heavy with bossa nova verses and sung entirely in Spanish, both tracks show their comfortability with expanding their sound to touch new genres, as well as the safety they now feel in the skin. ‘Shadow (I’m Breaking Down)’ sees Roditis bouncing ably between Spanish and English without missing a beat, accompanied by dynamic rhythms and a seriously catchy chorus professing the Jungian theory of the Shadow Self.

‘Plucked’ and ‘Praying’ contain two of the biggest hooks in their respective choruses, and it’s something Destroy Boys have really nailed down in their last couple of releases – big, anthemic singalongs and dexterous, memorable vocal performances that float delicately in your ear canal like a gentle punt through Venice.

Although Destroy Boys have always been referred to as a “Feminist band,” likely to do with both the name and being female fronted, they cannot deny it’s a driving force to penultimate track ‘You Hear Yes’. Accompanied by Scowl’s Kat Moss and Mannequin Pussy’s Marisa Dabice, it’s a hugely important song about their experience of harassment from men – something that is still far too prevalent in 2024 – and a real fuck you to male entitlement.

Closer ‘Boyfeel’ is an open and honest look at Roditis’ evolving relationship with their own gender, and their struggle to conform. Taking seven years to perfect, it’s an unabashedly frank track with hard hitting lines, but a delicacy to the instrumentation that somehow dilutes and placates the inner rage. It’s the stand out of the album, and deserves repeated listens to fully ingest its message.

After touring with blink-182, Alkaline Trio and a whole host of others, and pushing out consistently punchy records, Destroy Boys shouldn’t be surprising anyone any more. ‘Funeral Soundtrack #4’ is the culmination of all their hardwork, resulting in an album that’s as expansive as it is forceful, as honest as it is cutthroat. Destroy Boys are reaching their peak, and there’s nothing that’ll slow them down.

ANDY JOICE

If 2020’s ‘Big Twenty’ is the early 20s madness, ‘Dark Ageism’ is that slow descent into old age aka the dreaded 30s. Capping off the trilogy of albums, it’s a continuation of the anti-heroes lives they’ve developed over the past half decade. By personifying fictional beings, it allows Other Half to be introspective and pensive without being specific, letting everything feel grottier and harsher than what the bands reality is. Living day to day in the same rut, watching everyone else progress around you and grubby little hands trying to take away the positives breeds a feeling of darkness and despair that resonates throughout the album.

Opening with ‘Lifted Fingers’, it’s the most ‘singy’ song Other Half have ever released, with vocalist Cal Hudson changing tact from his usual spoken word to full fledged singing. Thankfully, if you’re missing the spoken elements, you’ll be pleased to hear that Matthew Caws of Nada Surf is on hand. With Caws adding a sense of lightness to dilute Hudson’s bleakness, it’s a delicious recipe of sickly sweet honey and the bitter almond flavour of cyanide.

‘Feeling For Yourself’ is the spiritual successor to ‘If You Write The Way You Talk’ from 2022’s ‘Soft Action’ in that it’s a slower paced but deafeningly ambient track depicting home town life and how it changes (or doesn’t) over time. The spoken narration from bassist Sophie Porter is mesmerising, sounding as if suffocated by both the walls of sound and the walls of the streets depicted in the track. There’s a claustrophobic edge that is unrelenting but works heavily in its favour, dychotomised by her wandering bassline that adds a bluesy edge to the proceedings.

‘Farm Games’ and ‘Bumps In The Night’ return to the more classical Other Half sound – grotty post-hardcore with a smattering of indie hooks, deceptively clever lyrics and more twists and turns than whatever the latest rollercoaster at Thorpe Park is. Ever self-referential, the latter references both ‘Big Twenty’ and ‘Soft Action’ as it continues to build the Other-Half Extended-Universe – Somebody needs to trademark OHEU.

‘Dollar Sign Eyes’ and ‘Rotator’ are Other Half at their most catchy, with hooks through the chorus that resonate beyond their runtime. ‘A Little Less Than Evil’ is a standout though. Simplistic in its delivery, its beauty is in its structure. A slower, quieter first verse before everything is ramped up, drummer Alfie Adams is the real star of the show as he hammers the skins like he’s trying to hit gophers at the fair. This is without mentioning some outstanding screaming from Porter in the closing bars, it’s Other Half at their finest, all talents on display. If you don’t blow out your ears and have your chin resting on your shoes, you’re not listening closely enough.

Single ‘Pastoral Existence’ features more unclean vocals from Porter as well as the reflective realisation and acceptance that perhaps the country life – or life away from everyone else – isn’t so bad, with a chorus of “a pastoral existence sound like bliss to me.” Perhaps a pipe dream, perhaps an actualisation for the group or misfits we’ve followed for three albums, the scuzz resonates from start to finish with droning dissonance adding to the thick rhythms.

As well as Caws, Alexei Berrow of Johnny Foreigner makes an appearance, ironically closing out the album on ‘Other Half Vs. The End Of Everything’. Berrow leads the first half of the track, speaking home truths to an almost poppy backing before Hudson reflects on the journeys taken across the last decade. It’s worth noting that the majority of ‘Dark Ageism’ runs seamlessly, each track bleeding into the next, with ‘Other Half Vs. The End Of Everything’ being the exception. It’s for this reason that it feels cleansing, like the clouds opening up and letting thin streams of sunlight peek through. Even the line “I’ll be dead eventually and none of this will bother me” somehow feels like a mantra of positivity in a backwards but very Other Half way.

‘Dark Ageism’ is an album that starts slow and measured but quickly finds its feet, leaning back into the degenerate characters we know (and love?) as they continue their journey through the bizarre banality of life. It’s eerily relatable and deeply personal lyrically and sonically, it’s Other Half at their sharpest, continuing to push themselves to their absolute brink. If Other Half are in a rut, it’s a rut I’d like to be in.

ANDY JOICE