Opening with the same explosive chord as the Pixies’ Bossanova, riffing right into a Killing Joke-like hook, and finally settling into Billy Bragg at 78 rpm, this brand of punk rock revolution is, regrettably, rare.
Meet the Swedish offspring of Blur and the Stooges. (I meant that musically, you perv.)
Post-punk disco dub replete with bongos and sleigh bells. Nothing new about the concept, but the execution sure is fresh.
Full-disclosure: Matt, the singer, used to intern for me. Used to. That fact alone may get me ink in The Rock ‘n’ Roll History Book. The Bronx are that good.
Clorox Girls take it back to ’79 and reclaim the “pop-punk” genre just as it’s teetering on the brink of utter destruction.
[Insert Fugazi comparison here.] But seriously…call it a perfect storm of blistering energy, precision angst, and angular hooks; call it just what I need to make it through the news these days.
Elastic, eccentric punk-wave with some really rewindable lyrics. Plus they’re from Regina, which makes me giggle.
Frenetic, hooky punk rock that lingers like a good sunburn.