It’s been a long time since we had a substantial release from, Manchester ‘party-emo’ pioneers, Well Wisher. Two tracks on a split with Polina, and a plethora of live shows, was just enough to tide fans over in 2011, but now we have Summer Gangs. The band’s second EP raises the bar set by their debut – their, catchy, upbeat tunes sounding more refined and polished than ever before. In short, this might well be the best thing Well Wisher have ever done.

Starting out understated with ‘Are You Crazy To Come To The Crazy Beach Party?’ (what a gem of a song title!), Summer Gangs builds into this erratic crescendo of sound by the beginning of the second track, before repeating the whole process all over again. It’s like having a massive indie-pop/emo monster stumble out of the bushes, look at you, and start to charge, arms and legs flailing. The EP is capped off with a fantastic cover of Braid’s ‘Breathe In’ – a track originally intended for a tribute to the, no longer late, 90′s emo outfit – which the band have made their own, whilst making their influences abundantly clear.

Summer Gangs shows a clear progression in Well Wisher as a band. Their older material remains fantastic, but everything here – the lyrics, the musicianship, the everything – is a step up. Not only that, but it’s the closest they’ve come to capturing the band’s intense, captivating, live experience and I couldn’t ask for more than that.

You can stream the entire EP over on their Bandcamp.

There’s something immensely satisfying about slamming your feet progressively on hard concrete, while listening to music that could melt the face of a room full of eight-year-old children. This is how I spent most of my time listening to the first full length from, Southsea hardcore mentalists, Attack! Vipers! Unfortunately I learnt, that without proper running shoes, I could seriously damage my shins. I put the athletic career on hold, but it seems sprint booties will have to go on the next shopping list, as the titans of UK hardcore have released a new record.

One of the greatest things about Deadweight Revival is that, within twenty seconds of listening, it’s clear this is not just another “hardcore” album. There are no cliché beat downs, as used by so many try hard bands trapped in old conventions. They seem terrified to even slightly move away from creating an integral ambience of melodic hardcore, which often comes across as sounding like a slightly better polished, more superior, technical rendition of Will Haven’s Carpe Diem. In fact, Deadweight Revival even puts the bands previous efforts to shame, with the vocal ability of singer Joe Watson pushing forward into a more mellifluous, yet still entirely brutal, timbre, putting him on a pedestal when compared to other vocalists of the genre.

Vocals are not the only thing Deadweight Revival does to push the hardcore genre to the next level. In terms of musicality, the record shows a much more intrinsic side to A!V!, with guitars that switch between nimble licks, beastly distorted chords and andante sections so seamlessly it makes the record almost impossible to put into the “hardcore” pigeon-hole. Sometimes it sounds like hardcore, other times it sounds like power metal and, occasionally, you get a part which would probably be very much at home on a fucking Sigur Ros release.

The band’s self proclaimed style of being “somewhere between The Suicide File and Envy” is hard to deny. The similarities are there but at the same time there’s so much much to the Vipers than just that. Deadweight Revival takes the hardcore musicality then adds a punk rock ethos and does this with aplomb. In doing so, it creates an energetic sound that UK hardcore had missed dearly since the departure of, Manchester’s finest, Fill the Void.

I could say Deadweight Revival was by the far the best UK hardcore album I’d heard in a long time, but I’d be lying. It’s the best I’ve heard…EVER. Attack! Vipers! have far surpassed expectations with this record, and if any band were to be at the forefront of reviving UK hardcore – a genre what could arguably be called a dying one – then these guys are sure to be it. This record proves that.

On The Impossible Past is the third album from The Menzingers, and their first on Epitaph Records. I was lucky enough to hear this record before most – when they took Leagues Apart, Dave and I from Philly to FEST 10 last year – but unfortunate enough to have to go without hearing it for the following three months.

Compared to previous efforts, On The Impossible Past is less in your face, and more in you head. The chorus of ‘Burn After Writing’ has been running through my head daily since I first I heard it. This is a more mature and accomplished record.

I honestly believe that there’s no filler songs, and no songs that are a little bit worse than others on this record. It’s thirteen tracks of absolute quality. The album flows so flawlessly that even at 45 minutes in total, you still find yourself going back to track one (‘Good Things’) and starting all over again.

The Menzingers sound all grown up. They’ve mastered catchy choruses, pounding rhythms, and everything else that was special about their back catalogue. Expect to see On The Impossible Past in many ‘Best of 2012′ lists come the end of the year.

5 stars out of 5, 11/10 and 3 golden globe nominations.

- Kieran Kelly

Of all the Alkaline Trio boys, Matt Skiba has been the most prolific when it comes to side-projects – he’s gone solo, released a post-punk record, and has got a new album with The Sekrets on the horizon – but he’s always managed to do something interesting with every new creative outlet. This time Skiba has teamed up with, drummer, Atom Willard (Angels & Airwaves, Rocket From The Crypt, The Offspring) to form theHell.

At it’s core Sauves Les Requins is a collection of four great punk rock songs, but did you expect anything less? The duo is showcasing what they do best, changing it up enough to make it interesting without leaving ‘die-hard’ fans of their past work disappointed. The result actually feels more like a straight up pop-punk record than a lot of the guys’ recent releases, and I for one welcome that. The polish applied to Angels And Airwaves (and the later Alkaline Trio) records is replaced by something much more raw, and yet it doesn’t feel shoddy or underproduced. Combine that with Skiba’s signature dark lyrical style and fantastic vocal, and you have something special. Something that, for me anyway, harkens back to the early days of the Trio with a little of that post-punk sound that has permeated through Matt’s previous musical efforts.

It’s that link to early Trio that makes me start this up again as soon as it’s finished and, despite not knowing what to expect coming in, I’m longing to hear more. Though there’s been nothing announced regarding a full length I, like many others, will be sorely disappointed if that doesn’t come to pass. This is exactly what I want to hear from a side project, and is sure to excite anyone looking for a fresh but familiar pop-punk sound.

The side project can be a wonderful thing. They’re often a chance for an artist to diversify and, when they’re done right, can turn out to be awesome. Back in 2004, Brendan Kelly formed The Falcon – a punk ‘supergroup’ containing members of Alkaline Trio, Rise Against and, Kelly’s own, Lawrence Arms – and whilst The Falcon’s sound was dissimilar to any of the aforementioned bands, the apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree. With this latest project, the raspy-voiced Chicagoan, has endeavored to do something completely different. Not only has he succeeded in doing so, but he’s created something that’ll surprise many a listener.

A Man With The Passion Of Tennessee Williams is a perfect three-track tease of what’s to come from Kelly and his Wandering Birds. Though the lyrical content remains relatively similar to his previous work, it appears we’ll be getting something completely different from a musical standpoint. The opening track demonstrates this perfectly; A simple drum beat permeates throughout, broken up by the effect laden sound of an electric guitar and lead vocal. The end result is a very techno/Euro-dance sounding track, with Kelly’s vocals coming across very Marilyn Manson-esque. So yeah, this isn’t The Lawrence Arms or one of those ‘one man and a guitar’ kind of deals. Surprisingly, this isn’t a bad thing and I’m excited for what’s to come when the full length is released in February.

As for the EP’s two other tracks, the first has a very Lawrence Arms sound about it. Whilst it has been infused with a little of the techno style heard on the previous track, it’s a ‘safer’ song than what came before. Given how different the previous track was, it definitely didn’t strike me in the same way. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable in it’s own right. In an even safer move, the EP closes with an acoustic song. ‘Suffer The Children, Come Unto Me’ shows that Kelly’s basic songwriting process has remained very similar, and so I urge you to give this a try.

This is Brendan getting creative, and trying new things. It’s certainly not what I expected coming in, but I’m excited to see what he can do having lost the constraints of a traditional punk rock record.

There were two support acts, the first an indie pop duo Summer Camp.  Debbie Harry-esque vocals from Elizabeth Sankey, beautifully filled the Academy, decorated by swells of synth piano and guitar effects by multi instrumentalist, Jeremy Warmsley. The second were California formed band Surfer Blood who’s laid back surf rock sounds were the perfect appetizer for the headline.

The Vaccines opened their set with full audacity, a glowing stage and Do You Remember Rock And Roll Radio? by the Ramones welcomed Justin Young and the rest of the band with punk rock flare. They opened with an anthemic Lack of Understanding, all songs followed suit with the crowd almost equalling the volume of Young’s vocals on every track of the album proving just how much the public have taken to them. Songs that were particularly climatic came in the form of Wetsuit, debut track If You Wanna and Nørgaad, all of which provide simplistic, driving guitar and drum rhythms which seems to be what people want and need right now, music to have a good time to.

This is what makes The Vaccines so great; there is no need for fancy synth looping or intricate, cryptic lyrics. Their matter of fact, quick fire rock and roll is something the public can relate to and something that needs to be brought back, true post-punk-revival spirit. So what DO I expect from the Vaccines? A bright future at least.

Folk music has always been about telling stories. Well, it used to be. Today anyone armed with an acoustic guitar is pigeon-holed as being ‘folk’ and, whilst there’s plenty of valid examples out there, there’s few that do the definition of folk music justice like Beans On Toast. Trying To Tell The Truth follows on from Beans’ previous two efforts, and it’s here that he’s managed to perfect his craft.

Whilst, his debut, Standing On A Chair was rough and ready, it had a lot of charm (a lot like the man himself). It’s these songs that endeared him and his music to the people. Last year saw the release of Writing On The Wall and whilst it was a better produced, more scaled back, effort, it lacked that little something that made the first batch of tracks so great. With this record, Beans has managed to split the difference – creating a polished collection of twelve, very British, folk songs. Just don’t go in expecting something all rose tinted glasses.

Granted, there’s a few on here that try to paint a perfect picture – ‘Peter Pan’s Playground’ says “Hi!” – but, for the most part, Trying To Tell The Truth is a really honest record. Not only that, but Beans manages to cover a range of topics that some would choose to ignore, including: buying new shoes, over population and blowjobs. Each song offers up something clever and comedic in equal measure, with very few dull moments. Despite this, my favourite track covers something a little more traditional. ‘My New Number One’ is a simple, catchy, love song about “Lizzie B” – presumably Beans’ other half – which everyone should be able to relate to.

Beans On Toast might not have the best voice in the world, or masses of technical skill, but his songs are honest and simple, and that’s what makes them great.

Bonafide - Something's Dripping © Black Lodge

Bar-room lyrics, check. Catchy, riff based songs, check. Long hair, acres of denim and a love of late nights and even later women, almost definitely. This is a list that, to some, may seem an imposing, clichéd inventory needed to write a stereotypical rock band comedy/mockumentary. But rock n roll isn’t anything complicated and this list has stood the test of time, like those who have adhered to it. And so do Bonafide, the latest champions of the down and dirty to come from Sweden’s Nordic shores.

When Sweden is mentioned, most here in the UK would automatically and rather imperialistically think of Volvo and, unfortunately, ABBA. So it is with great relief and pleasure that the latest in a long line of young pretenders to the blood stained, amp shaped throne of hard rock champions comes in the form of Bonafide. Having paid their dues all over Europe and a subsequent UK tour in December, Bonafide bring with them a back catalogue of proven song writing ability, excellent sound and a dedication to an art form that has seen a relative renaissance in the past half decade.

Their 2009 album Something’s Dripping, a wonderfully graphic and balls to the wall title, is a standout combination of a group who are plying their trade in what could be mildly described as a hostile environment. Indeed, it would seem that the fun and lavish rock and roll excesses of the past half century have been long forgotten since 2000 rolled around and the music industry became a place of factory (definitely not Factory Records) produced starlets hell bent on fifteen seconds of fame.

Thus with an album like Something’s Dripping, Bonafide and their contemporaries bring a much needed injection of light heartedness and relaxed throw back into a scene dominated by innocuous glitter and pre-fab. There is nothing more gut-bustingly wonderful than tracks titled like “A Shot of You,” “Butt You Up” and “Fill Your Head with Rock.” All of these songs incidentally are not only excellent hard rock but perfect examples of the musicianship, song writing and top tier production that Bonafide have behind them.

The lyrics, “You think you’re God almighty, like you own the show/ I’m gonna be there laughing at you, you’re Dirt Bound,” taken from the album’s opening track “Dirt Bound” more than exemplify this band’s intentions. Following the hard rock formula of simple riff, throaty vocals and an unrelenting percussion, “Dirt Bound” has the makings of crowd pleasing anthem but also carries with it the grandeur and statement of intent of the band and their sound as a whole.

This is a group of rockers, plain and simple, no frills, toe tapping blues-based music that feels refreshingly new and familiar all at once. The theme of us Vs them is concurrent throughout the whole album, Something’s Dripping’s tracks slipping seamlessly together, one high paced track after the other in a rapid, machine gun paced trip of eleven tracks designed as a protest and assault on anything else you’ve heard this year.

Rebellion is what rock music is all about and this is the finest form. There are no hidden messages, no complicated sub themes or parable like analogies to set fire to message boards across the Internet. You will not be able to play the album in concurrence with classic movies like The Wizard of Oz or Blade Runner because there is nothing needlessly complicated or self indulgently artistic and ambiguous about this music. It’s hard working, hard sounding, excellent rock and roll that everybody can enjoy.

With an array of recent bands trying their hand at this style of music, Airbourne, The Answer, The Treatment and Rival Sons to name four, it seems there is still a contingency of musicians out there willing to make music that echoes a golden age of recent memory. As the world continues to become progressively digital and the medium of music is more accessible, high hopes rest on Bonafide, and the others, to keep us rocking all night and partying every day.

Jonathan Whitelaw

Watching a mariachi band isn’t something I’ve often done. Alright, before this I’d never seen a mariachi band. Where does one even go to watch a mariachi band? Manchester…apparently. Alright this wasn’t any old mariachi band, this was Mariachi El Bronx – side project of Los Angeles hardcore band The Bronx – and they were as off the wall and awesome as I expected.

There was a real vaudevillian atmosphere about the whole show. I don’t know what it was, but everything seemed so theatrical, something that’s probably down to all the ‘banter’ between songs. I like to see artists interacting with the crowd, but this was too much. Lead singer, Matt Caughthran stopped to explain each song and talk about how much he loved being in Manchester. That’s all well and good, but it broke up the flow of the show a bit too much, and I left feeling a lot of that time might have been best served playing more songs. Granted, a lot of this could be down to the complex nature of the band and them having to set up, but it just seemed a little too much.

Aside from this, the show was fantastic. The band kicked the night off perfectly with ’48 Roses’ and continued to impress with every song that followed. The setlist had everything an El Bronx fan could want, playing an abundance of songs from both records, recognizing the fact that they hadn’t really toured in this form before. By the end of the set, Matt has gotten the crowd into a frenzy and everyone was singing and dancing along.

The band left the stage and, surprisingly, didn’t return for an encore. It was unusual, but I left contented. I’d gotten exactly what I wanted out of an El Bronx show, and it seemed like everyone else had too. Matt could’ve definitely cut down on that banter though. We might have had a few more chances to sing and dance with one of the most interesting bands of the past few years.

What better way to celebrate 35 years of being one of the most influential punk bands ever than to go on a huge world tour (U.S, U.K and Australia) and playing the two, debatably, most iconic albums from your back catalogue? I suppose a big birthday cake filled with L.S.D and cocaine would be better but, given the current financial situation in the world, the white stuff has been hard to afford (I’m talking about flour, obviously). The Damned went with the former, and I was lucky enough to catch the horror-tinged punks at Manchester’s Academy 1.

It should have been a great night all around and it nearly was. The only downfall was, opening act, Viv Albertine. Once guitarist for, the now defunct, punk band The Slits, Viv broke the night in with a set of stripped down punk songs, so stripped down in fact that it was just her and an electric guitar which sounded like it was barely plugged in. A bad sounding guitar wasn’t the only downfall of the set. I imagine even with a full band setting they wouldn’t hold much water. Her vocals were completely off, and the lyrics were often reminiscent of a child who’s learnt a handful of, semi-crass, limericks. Her final song was definitely the best, ‘Confessions of a MILF’ did clarify one thing about Viv, she might be a little older now but she was still pretty easy on the eyes. Her short skirt gave a little reason to not head back to the bar. Nevertheless, nice pins weren’t enough to make up for what felt like a forced set of songs about a sexually liberated, self-confessed mother. Mid set a drunk guy turned to me and said, “it’s fucking punk rock, innit?” If so, maybe we should give up on the whole damn scene.

After nearly vomiting from the visual display that pre-empted their set, The Damned took to the stage. They tore into the entirety of, 1977 classic, Damned Damned Damned, playing everything aside from ‘Stab Your Back’. Why such a great song was missed from the set is insane, but this did little to diminish the intensity too much. The band played so tight it felt, at times, as if they were simply dancing to a copy of the album. Their energy levels don’t seem to have dropped one iota since the days of its release (fair enough I wasn’t alive, but that’s what YouTube is for, right?), and if anything the years of touring has made them a much stronger live band than ever before. Though I was curious as to why, keyboardist, Monty Oxy Moron was on stage during an album that features no keyboards. My heart goes out to Monty though, he jumped around like a maniac, playing no keyboard, offering the occasional backing vocal, and looking like he was as excited to be part of the show as the audience were to be watching it.

The band left for a brief intermission before returning for the second instalment. “Alright, it’s now 1980 and we’re in a studio in Wales” announced the Captain, changing from his Yeti-like garb to a much cooler looking Dennis the Menace styled ensemble. I hadn’t drank enough to believe him but I knew what was coming and the band blasted their way through the, more progressive, Black Album. Even though I can’t fault it, listening to this after something as intense as Damned Damned Damned felt like a bit of an anti-climax. Monty was finally given a real musical role and played fantastically. Singer Dave Vanian’s vocals began to give towards the end of the album but he pulled through, giving the haunting punk inspired melodies the mellifluous vocal talent that is missing from so many of the more vocally aggressive punk bands from the same era.

They returned for an encore of a few choice hits, ending with the greatly received, albeit cliché, ‘Smash It Up’, leaving the audience blown away and leaving me upset that the night was over. I’d had two of the greatest punk albums ever played before my eyes by one of the greatest punk bands ever, but it had left me salivating in hunger for more. Maybe next time they’ll play all their albums in one night?