JOVM’s WIlliam Ruben Helms celebrates Robert Smith’s 64th birthday.
Tag: post punk
New VIdeo: JOVM Mainstays Dream Wife Share Kaleidoscopic Visual for Glittery Dance Punk Anthem “Orbit”
Deriving their name from a pointedly satirical criticism of society’s objectification of women, the acclaimed London-based JOVM mainstays Dream Wife — Rakel Mjöll (vocals) (she/her), Alice Go (guitar, vocals) (she/her) and Bella Podapec (bass, vocals) (they/them) — can trace their origins back to 2015 when the trio started the band as a art project, rooted in a unique concept: a band born out of one girl’s memories of growing up in Canada in the 1990s.
Their 2018 self-titled debut was released to widespread critical acclaim, and led to the JOVM mainstays opening for Garbage, The Kills and Sleigh Bells, as well as their SXSW debut. Building upon a rapidly growing profile, Dream Wife followed up with a series of headlining tours across the European Union and the States, including a Rough Trade stop with New York-based genre-defying artist Sabri.
Dream Wife’s 2020 Marta Salogni-produced So When You Gonna . . . saw the JOVM mainstays writing and recording some of their most urgent and direct material to date. Thematically touching upon abortion, miscarriage and gender equality, the album’s material is fueled by a “it’s-now-or-never” immediacy with the album’s material being a call to action to the listener to get up off their ass, and do the work to make a morally bankrupt world better.
Additionally, the album was a critical and commercial success — especially in the UK: The album landed at #18 on the UK Albums Chart, making it the only album in the Top 20 to be produced by an all womxn/non-male production and engineering team — and the only non-major label release to chart that high.
The London-based outfit’s highly-anticipated and long-awaited third album Social Lubrication is slated for a June 9, 2023 release through Lucky Number. Throughout their career, the trio has been remarkably adept at merging the political and the playful, and Social Lubrication continues that reputation. Forcefully vital statements are hidden within hot and heavy dance floor anthems about making out, having fun, staying curious. In the band’s words, the album is: “Hyper lusty rock and roll with a political punch, exploring the alchemy of attraction, the lust for life, embracing community and calling out the patriarchy. With a healthy dose of playfulness and fun thrown in.”
“There is a sense of fun and openness that is central to Social Lubrication, as well. “There’s a lot of lust in this album and taking the piss out of yourself and everyone you know,” Rakel Mjöll says. “It’s almost quite juvenile in that way.”
Perhaps more than ever, the live show is at the core of the album and its material. “The live show is the truth of the band,” Alice Go says. “That’s at the heart of what we do and of the statements we’re making.” That energetic, pedal-to-the-metal sound explodes through the album’s material — and you can hear it through the loud, dirty riffs and choruses specifically built for dancing and shaking asses together in shared spaces. For the band’s Go, who produced the album, it was important to capture and bottle that joyful, frenetic feeling the band’s members all felt. “We wanted to get that rawness and energy across in a way that hadn’t been done before,” she says.
For the band, the live show is where the band and fans can come together in a shared moment of community. And to that end, the album is a celebration of community and a big ol’ middle finger to the societal barriers enforced to sever connection, playfulness, curiosity and even sexual empowerment. “Music is one of the only forms of people experiencing an emotion together in a visceral, physical, real way,” says Go. “It’s cathartic to the systemic issues that are being called out across the board in the record. Music isn’t the cure, but it’s the remedy. That’s what Social Lubrication is: the positive glue that can create solidarity and community.”
“The album is speaking to systemic problems that cannot be glossed over by lube,” the band’S Bella Podpadec says. “The things named in the songs are symptoms of f-ed up structures. And you can’t fix that. You need to pull it apart.”
So far, I’ve written about two of Social Lubrication‘s singles:
“Leech,” an urgent, post-punk inspired ripper that saw the band’s Mjöll alternating between spoken-word-like delivery for the song’s verses and feral shouting for the song’s choruses. Mjöll’s vocal delivery is paired with an alternating song structure that features looping and wiry guitar bursts for the song’s verses and explosive, power chord-driven riffage for the song’s choruses. The song is a tense, uneasy and forceful, mosh pit friendly anthem for our uncertain, fucked up time, that addresses the inherent double standards of power — while urgently calling for more empathy.”
“It’s an anthem for empathy. For solidarity,” the JOVM mainstays explain. “Musically tense and withheld, erupting to angry cathartic crescendos. The push and pull of the song lyrically and musically expands and contracts, stating and calling out the double standards of power. Nobody really wins in a patriarchal society. We all lose. We could all use more empathy. As our first song to be released in a while, we wanted to write something that feels like letting an animal out of a cage. It’s out. And it’s out for blood…”
“Hot (Don’t Date A Musician),” a Gang of Four-like, tongue-in-cheek ripper inspired by Mjöll’s grandmother’s sage advice — despite the fact that she herself, dated many musicians in her day — while wryly poking fun at musicians and the music adjacent, the band included. “Dating musicians is a nightmare,” Mjöll explains. “Evoking imagery of late night make-outs with fuckboy/girl/ambiguously-gendered musicians on their mattress after being seduced by song-writing chat. The roles being equally reversed. Having a laugh together and being able to poke fun at ourselves is very much at the heart of this band. This song encapsulates our shared sense of humour. Sonically it is the lovechild of CSS and Motorhead. It has our hard, live, rock edge combined with cheeky and playful vocals.”
Tha album’s third and latest single “Orbit” is a dance punk ripper. built around a a propulsive disco-inspired post punk rhythm, bursts of wiry guitars paired with enormous hooks and Mjöll’s sultry rock goddess-like delivery that recalls Fever to Tell-era Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Echoes-era The Rapture and LCD Soundsystem among others. Much like its predecessor, the song is fun and rooted in a sense of youthful adventure and possibility.
“Written through the joy of jamming together and locking into the groove like a multi limbed space age organism, ‘Orbit’ has a dance rock edge from the early noughties of bands like New Young Pony Club and Yeah Yeah Yeahs,” the band explains. “Lyrically, it was inspired by post-lockdown London coming back to life and sharing a space through friendship and community. And how each day you never know what’s in store for you or how a stranger can become someone close to you – for a day, a heartbeat, a phase, or a lifetime.”
Directed by Sophie Webster, the accompanying video for “Orbit” is a kaleidoscopic and trippy visual that features the trio rocking out with a youthful abandon — and plenty of fans to blow around their hair, because rock ‘n’ roll, right?
New Video: Montréal Art Punks La Securité Share Frenetic Ripper “Anyway”
Montréal-based art punk quintet La Securité features a collection of acclaimed local players, with the band featuring current and past members of Choses Sauvages, Laurence-Anne, Silver Dapple, DATES, Pressure Pin, and others. Since their formation last year. the Canadian quintet have quickly developed and cemented their sound and approach: Meandering around the fringes of punk, New Wave and krautrock, the quintet’s take on art punk pairs jumpy beats, off-kilter arrangements and minimalistic yet melodic hooks, run through an insomniac filter. And while their music is razor sharp and danceable, their lyrical content is rooted in the feminist community-centric ethos of the Riot Grrrl movement. “It’s not just fun and games… it also bites. It’s catchy earworms delivered with a punk attitude,” guitarist Melissa Di Menna says.
In a relatively short period of time, La Securité has quickly made a name for themselves in both the national and international scene: They’ve been invited to play at SXSW, FME, Phoque Off, Taverne Tour and DISTORSION Psych Fest, and they’ve shared stages with Automatic, Orchestre Tout Puissant Marcel Duchamp, TVOD, Margaritas Podridas, CIVIC, and Duchess Says. Building upon a growing profile, the French Canadian quintet’s highly-anticipated Samuel Gemme-produced full-length debut, Stay Safe! is slated for a June 16, 2023 release through Mothland.
Recorded at Gamma Recording Studio, Stay Safe! reportedly features songs that manic yet surprisingly laid-back, empowering and urgent, reflective yet melancholy — all while mischievously flouting stylistic form every chance they can get. The album’s latest single “Anyway” is a scorcher built around buzzing and slashing power chords, a chugging motorik groove, bombastic hooks and choruses paired with a cooler-than-you swagger. But underneath the song’s frenetic energy is a song informed by a deeply personal yet universal, and very heavy subject: “This song was written in the early stages of dealing with grief related to miscarriage and pleads a sort of surrender to the strain it can put on a couple processing it,” La Securité’s vocalist Éliane Viens-Symott explains in press notes.
Directed by the members of the band, the accompanying video for “Anyway” was shot on VHS and follows the band in what has quickly become one of my favorite cities in the world. We see the band playing in joints around town, hanging out and goofing around. It’s exuberant, mischievous and stylish as hell. The video and album announcements come on the heels of the band’s SXSW appearance this year. So this year looks to be a big year for the Montréal-based outfit.
New Audio: Don’t Get Lemon Shares Groovy, 80s-Inspired “Blow-up”
Currently split between Austin and Houston, Don’t Get Lemon — Austin Curtis (vocals), Bryan Walters (bass, percussion) and Nick Ross (synth, guitar, drum programming) — is a dance pop outfit with a glam-leaning, synth-driven sound that draws from 70s Berlin and 80s Manchester.
Deriving its title from Michelangelo Antonioni’s swinging 1966 motion picture Blow-Up, the Texan trio’s latest single “Blow-Up” is a decidedly 80s Madchester/Manchester-inspired bop built around glistening synths arpeggios, Curtis’ ironically detached delivery, a motorik-like groove, angular guitar attack, and bursts of polyrhythm featuring bongo and electronic drums paired with bombastic hooks. The trio explain that the song, which features lyrics pierced together, borrowing from William S. Burroughs’ famed cut-up poetry technique and imagery inspired by David Lynch’s Blue Velvet is a “glimpse into the unseen dark.”
New Audio: Denver’s Kiltro Shares Trippy and Funky “Guanaco”
Years ago, Chilean-American singer/songwriter and guitarist Chris Bowers Castillo moved to the Chilean port city of Valparaíso and became a walking tour guide. “I would dress up as Wally and give tours to families and kids,” he remembers with a laugh. “It was great, because I got to know the city incredibly well. I’d walk for hours, then spend the rest of the day partying and drinking, probably way too much. But I also wrote lots of new songs.”
When he got to to Denver, Bowers Castillo searched for a moniker that reflected the evocative and subtly rebellious musical concepts he had brewing and his head, and eventually settled on Kiltro. a Chilean slang word for a stray dog or a mutt. He then teamed up with Will Parkhill (bass) and Micheal Devincenzi (drums). He then recruited Fez García (percussion) to join the band for their live shows. “I wanted to do a project mixing different styles and aesthetics,” Castillo explains. “Valparaíso is my favorite city in the world and will always influence my music. There were street dogs everywhere, and I’m a mutt myself.”
Slated for a June 2, 2023 release, the Denver-based outfit’s forthcoming sophomore album Underbelly reportedly represents a bold, new chapter for the band, with the material seeing the band fuse Latin roots music with American rock music. “When we first started the band, I was playing folk songs – focusing on my interior spaces and finding catharsis through melody,” Bowers Castillo says. “I’ve always been attracted to music that is melancholy and personal. Then we added the rhythmic component, and I realized that having a bit of noise and chaos can add emotional depth. Underbelly reflects everything that happens inside your soul when the world stops on its tracks.” “We tried a lot of new things on this record,” Kiltro’s Will Parkhill adds. “We were living through unprecedented times and coming to terms with all of it. The album is a reflection of that. At the end of the day, we wanted to create the kind of music that we didn’t hear anywhere else.”
The album’s first single “Guanaco” is built around a sinuous and propulsive groove paired with glistening guitars, Latin-influenced percussion, four-on-the-floor, Bowers Castillo’s gently cooed Spanish delivery and a sleek, almost dance floor friendly hook. Sonically, “Guanaco” sees the Denver-based outfit specializing in the sort of off-kilter funk reminiscent of Fear of Music–More Songs About Buildings and Food–Remain in Light-era Talking Heads but with a defiant, genre-defying flair.
“A guanaco is a South American animal that is a bit like a llama. It’s known for spitting,” Bowers Castillo explains. “In Chile, it has another meaning, and is colloquially used to refer to police vehicles that shoot water at protestors. We wrote this song in the wake of the 2019 protests for a new constitution in Chile. The line “ya viene el guanáco” means simply “here/now comes the guanáco,” which against a driving, melancholic backdrop, had an almost fairy tale quality to it. I felt it communicated a sense of foreboding and nervous anxiety. Taken more literally, it means a beast is coming, here. Of course, a guanaco is not a terrifying thing, but a police line in riot gear with the machinery of dispersion and violence, is.
He continues “To be clear, the aim was never to make an explicit political point. Rather, I wanted to capture that peculiar environment of communal tension and mounting emotional energy, be it conviction or catharsis, or fear. The album had yet to take shape in those months, but I was certain the song would make an apt intro to whatever came next. I hope you enjoy it.”
New Video: FACS Shares Menacing and Uneasy “Constellation”
In 2013, Chicago-based post-punk act Disappears — founding member Brian Case (vocals, guitar) along with Noah Leger (drums), Jonathan van Herirk (guitar) and Damon Carruesco (bass) — released two somewhat related yet very different efforts that have remained in my album rotation — the atmospheric and tempestuous Kone EP and the tense, raging Era.
Carruesco left the band in 2017. The remaining members — Case, Lager and van Herrik — eventually decided to continue onward, but under a new name, new songwriting approach and sound as FACS. And with 2018’s full-length debut, Negative Houses, the trio quickly established themselves as a heavy band, although they don’t necessarily feel or seem like one in the traditional sense.
Since Negative House, the Chicago-based trio have released three more albums, including 2021’s Present Tense. Each of those albums have seen the band perfecting their unique brand of intense, catharsis-inducing post punk while pushing their sound and approach in increasingly further and newer directions.
Recorded by Sanford Parker at Chicago’s renowned Electrical Audio Recording, FACS’ fifth album Still Life in Decay is slated for a Friday release through Trouble In Mind Records. The album sees bassist Alianna Kalaba, who joined the band after the release of Negative Houses making her amicable last stand with the group. The album’s material sees the band’s rhythm section dancing and twisting around each other, much like a double helix, in which they collectively approach rhythm from outside the grove, rather than inside it, creating a lattice in which Case weaves his guitars in and around.
The album reportedly sees the band at their most solidified and focused: The apocalyptic chaos that defined its immediate predecessor is pushed away in favor of examination with a remarkable and unsettling clarity — but while still being a sort of addendum to Present Tense.
So far I’ve written about two of the album’s singles:
- “When You Say,” an uneasy track built around the propulsive lockstep rhythm held between Leger and Kalaba, and Case’s reverb-soaked guitar slashes. The song’s narrator shouts repeated phrases with a desperate urgency, as though trying to hold on to something — anything, really before it falls out of his grasp. The song’s stream of consciousness-like free-form lyrics touch upon the themes of resignation, cynicism, classism and the search for identity and meaning in a fucked up, crumbling society. The end result is a song that savagely pulls the bandages off to expose the rot, grime and ugliness of our world to the sunlight.
- “Slogan,” a brooding track built around shimmering, meditative guitar lines, a forceful and insistent rhythm section paired with Case’s reverb-drenched vocal and a soulful, aching guitar solo. The song features a a narrator meditating on the connection between identity and memory, repeating the phrase “I had it in the palm of my hand,” like a sad, desperate slogan.
“Constellation,” Still Life in Decay‘s third and latest single begins with a squall of white noise and distortion that quickly collapses into the song’s lumbering and thunderous groove. Case’s guitar has a spectral presence, appearing and disappearing in gauzy feedback throughout. The song’s narrator continues an uneasy meditation on memory, the past, the present and fate, sounding like a man striking out desperately against forces bigger than him.
The accompanying video by Nick Ciontea features lighting patterns that pulse and undulate in time to the song.
New Video: Gal Pal Shares Swooning “Angel In The Flesh”
Rising Los Angeles-based trio Gal Pal — Emelia Austin (she/her), Shayna Hahn (she/her) and Nico Romero (he/him) — can trace their origins back to a serendipitous meeting in college: The members of the band lived in the same dorm and on the same floor. Each member was drawn to to other by a sense of shared ambition and a desire to play music in a way that felt nonjudgmental and generative. Their initial collaborations were improvisatory, long-winded and playful — and featured recently purchased equipment, including a drum kit no one yet knew how to play. “We were learning our instruments together,” Gal Pal’s Nico Romero says. “The project started from wanting to learn how to play an write songs with other people.”
Earlier this year, the trio released “Mirror,” track that was written from an altered creative process — perhaps born out of necessity: Austin, Hahn and Romero experimented with writing in isolation, crafting songs with lyrics on their own before bringing them to the group. Featuring production assistance from Danny Noguieras and Sami Perez, the new single is also a bold step forward sonically for the band: Centered around an intricate, looping guitar riff, skittering drum patterns paired with Austin’s plaintive wailing “Mirror” is a shoegazey take on post punk that evokes both the sensation of being hopelessly stuck in a repetitive, dysfunctional pattern — and the slow-burning sense of dread, because there’s the acknowledgement of being stuck, and not knowing how to get out of a hellish loop.
Gal Pal’s Emelia Austin explained that the song ““formed from Nico playing cyclical guitar riffs over and over again. It helped me form the theme of being stuck in a pattern. I then wrote lyrics that were cut-off sentences, repeating again and again to express that feeling. For me, ‘Mirror’ is about the ways we allow our identities to be misshaped by people in our lives, how we are used as reflections for others, and the anxiety over being able to control it or not.”
Today, the rising Los Angeles-based trio announced that their new album This and Other Gestures is slated for a June 2, 2023 release. Marking their first album in six years, This and Other Gestures sees the trio now in their mid-20s and working through gender dysphoria, personal loss and the power and confusion of young adulthood. “These songs are very personal to us,” Gal Pal’s Austin explains. “We’re telling stories about different things — life, death, love, grief — all these things we’re going through and growing out of. These songs are about us processing change. Is it good, is it bad? We’re grieving, we’re celebrating.”
The album’s latest single “Angel In The Flesh” is a rousingly anthemic and swooning song that sonically is one part 120 Minutes-era MTV alt rock and late ’90s-early ’00s pop punk/emo built around buzzing power chords, thunderous drumming. enormous shout-along worthy hooks and choruses, paired with heart-worn-on-sleeve lyricism. Ultimately, the song is a sweet declaration of love, full of the sort of bravery, vulnerability and longing that’s free of the cynicism and despair of bitter experience.
“I grew up listening to a lot of pop punk and emo bands,” Gal Pal’s Nic Romero says in press notes. “I was a big fan of labels like Fueled By Ramen and Decaydance as a kid. I think this song definitely comes from that background a bit. It’s easy for me to want to sing about crushes and longing because it’s a fun feeling to indulge in and romanticize, even when it hurts.”
Directed by Ashley Kron, the accompanying video for “Angel In The Flesh” sees the band playing a dysfunctional TV sitcom family that manages to forget their dog’s birthday. The dog decides to run away — but bonds with his family when they attack a mailman to prove their love.
Lyric Video: FACS Share Brooding “Slogan”
Back in 2013, Chicago-based post-punk act Disappears — founding member Brian Case (vocals, guitar) along with Noah Leger (drums), Jonathan van Herirk (guitar) and Damon Carruesco (bass) — released two related yet very different efforts that are among some of my favorite albums — the atmospheric and tempestuous Kone EP and the tense, raging Era.
In 2017, Carruesco left the band. The remaining members — Case, Lager and van Herrik — eventually decided to continue onward, but under a new name, and new sonic direction and songwriting approach as FACS. With 2018’s full-length debut, Negative Houses, the trio quickly established themselves as a heavy band, although they don’t necessarily feel like one.
Since Negative Houses, the Chicago-based outfit has released three more albums, including 2021’s Present Tense. Each of those albums have seen the members of FACS perfercting their unique brand of intense, catharsis-inducing art rock/post-punk, while pushing their sound and approach in new directions.
The Chicago-based outfit’s fifth album, Still Life In Decay was recorded by Sanford Parker at Electrical Audio Recording and is slated for an April 7, 2023 release through Trouble In Mind Records. Bassist Alianna Kalaba, who took over for founding member Jonathan van Herik after the release of Negative Houses makes her amicable last stand with the group. Alongside Leger, the band’s rhythm section dance and twist around each other like double helix in which collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove, rather than inside it, creating a lattice in which Case can weave his guitar lines in an around, like creeping vines.
Reportedly, Still Life in Decay is a decidedly focused effort that sees the band at their most solidified. The apocalyptic chaos of that defined their previous album is pushed away in favor of examination with a remarkable clarity — while being a sort of addendum to Present Tense.
Last month, I wrote about Still Life in Decay‘s first single, the uneasy “When You Say.” Built around the propulsive lockstep rhythm between Leger and Kalaba, and Case’s reverb-drenched, guitar slashes, the song sees Case shouting repeated phrases with a desperate agency, as though desperately trying to hold on to something — anything, really. The song’s freeform lyrics touch upon themes of resignation, cynicism, classism and search for identity and meaning in a crumbling society. The song is a primal, forceful meditation on the exposed ugliness, divides and inequities within our world — both pre-pandemic and post pandemic.
“Slogan,” Still Life in Decay‘s second and latest single is a brooding track rooted in shimmering and meditative guitar, a forceful rhythm section paired with Case’s reverb-drenched vocal and a soulful yet buzzing guitar solo. The song narrators meditates on identity and memory — repeating one phrase “I had it in the palm of my hand,” much like a slogan.
Directed by the band’s Brian Case, the lyric video for “Slogan” features the song’s lyrics floating on top of a geometric field.
New Video: Los Angeles’ Gal Pal Shares Lush, Dream-like “Mirror”
Rising Los Angeles-based trio Gal Pal — Emelia Austin (she/her), Shayna Hahn (she/her) and Nico Romero (he/him) — can trace their origins back to a serendipitous meeting in college: The members of the band lived in the same dorm and on the same floor. Each member was drawn to to other by a sense of shared ambition and a desire to play music in a share that felt nonjudgmental and generative. Their initial collaborations were improvisatory, long-winded and playful — and featured recently purchased equipment, including a drum kit no one yet knew how to play. “We were learning our instruments together,” Gal Pal’s Nico Romero says. “The project started from wanting to learn how to play an write songs with other people.”
The Los Angeles-based trio’s latest single “Mirror” altering their creative process — perhaps out of necessity: Austin, Hahn and Romero experimented with writing in isolation, crafting songs with lyrics on their own before bringing them to the group. Featuring production assistance from Danny Noguieras and Sami Perez, the new single is also a bold step forward sonically for the band: Centered around an intricate, looping guitar riff, skittering drum patterns paired with Austin’s plaintive wailing “Mirror” is a shoegazey take on post punk that evokes both the sensation of being hopelessly stuck in a repetitive, dysfunctional pattern — and the slow-burning sense of dread, because there’s the acknowledgement of being stuck, and not knowing how to get out of a hellish loop.
The bands Emelia Austin explains that the song “formed from Nico playing cynical guitar riffs over and over again. It helped me form the theme of being stuck in a pattern. I then wrote lyrics that were cut-off sentences, repeating again and again to express that feeling. For me, ‘Mirror’ is about the ways we allow our identities to be misshaped by people in our lives, how we are used as reflections for others, and the anxiety over being able to control it or not.”
Directed by Will Rydall, the accompanying video follows the band performing in their sun-bathed practice space, in front of various mirrors — and bounding up and around the surrounding hills.
New Video: RVG Shares Snarling “Nothing Really Changes”
Romy Vager is an Adelaide-born Melbourne-based singer/songwriter with a remarkable backstory: Vager was a teenaged goth kid runaway, who left Adelaide and headed east to Melbourne. Upon her arrival in Melbourne, she joined her first band Sooky La La, an act that specialized in material rooted in anger and discordance.
Unsurprisingly, Sooky La La was largely misunderstood, routinely cleared out rooms, and never found much of a following. Eventually, they split up. But it resulted in Vager committing herself to write songs that people would actually want to listen to, by attempting to do what countless aspiring singer/songwriters desperately hope — and then try — to do well: pair the universal feelings of alienation, loneliness, heartbreak, despair, feeling misunderstood, trying to find one’s place and even being in love with melody, introspection and rousingly anthemic hooks and refrains.
Vager wound up living at The Bank, a recording, rehearsal and performance space in an old bank building in Preston, Australia, a suburb about six miles from Melbourne. The Bank was a scene unto itself, as it housed a handful of bands that would later receive national attention, including Jalala, Gregor and Hearing, who at the time, all played, practiced and lived there. Living in such a space, surrounded by musicians, who were constantly working and honing their work was profoundly inspiring to Vager.
In 2015, the Adelaide-born, Melbourne-based singer/songwriter launched a tape of solo material that hadn’t actually been pressed yet. But that tape helped her land her first solo show at The Banks downstairs performance space. Vager recruited Drug Sweat’s and The Galaxy Folk’s Angus Bell (bass), her Bank neighbor, Gregor’s and Hearing’s Reuben Bloxham (guitar) and Rayon Moon‘s Marc Nolte (drums) to be a one-off backing band for that solo show. But as the story goes, once they all began playing together, they realized — without ever having to say it aloud — that they needed to continue as a band.
Shortly after that show, they settled on Romy Vager Group for their name. But they eventually shortened the name to RVG. Since then, the band has gone through a lineup change with Isabelle Wallace (bass) replacing Angus Bell.
Their full-length debut, 2017’s A Quality of Mercy was recorded live off the floor at Melbourne’s iconic rock ‘n’ roll pub, The Tote Hotel. Initially released to little fanfare, the album, much to their surprise received critical acclaim both nationally and internationally, landing on a number of end-of-year Best of Lists. The Aussie outfit also played alongside some of the world’s biggest bands.
Their sophomore album, 2020’s Victor Van Vugt-produced Feral was released by Fire Records globally, excluding Australia and New Zealand, where it was released by Our Golden Friend. If you were following this site during that rather tumultuous year, you might recall that I wrote about three of the album’s singles:
- “I Used to Love You,”a devastatingly heartbreaking ballad, rooted in a deeply universal tale of suffering in the aftermath of an embittering breakup — with the song’s proud and defiant narrator reclaiming herself and her life
- “Christian Neurosurgeon,” a rousingly anthemic song about cognitive dissonance that sonically seemed to nod at Heaven Up Here-era Echo and the Bunnymen,
- “Perfect Day,” a cathartic guitar pop single that expresses the frustration, despair, uncertainty and turmoil of the time that does what great songs should always do: speak to the listener in a manner that feels as though the band was in the listener’s head, putting words to the thoughts and feelings they’ve always known but couldn’t express or put words to — with the song being “about trying to give someone the facade of it been a nice day, even though things around them aren’t good,” as the band’s Romy Vager explained in press notes.
The album received some breathless praise both nationally and internationally with Rolling Stone Australia calling the album “the record of a lifetime.”
RVG’s third album, Brain Worms is slated for a June 2, 2023 release through Fire Records and Our Golden Friend. Between the band’s four members, Brain Worms is the most confident they’ve ever felt in RVG. The album reportedly sees them moving past their influences, trying new things and pushing themselves towards what they believe is their best album to date.
“Hype is scary. After two years of COVID it felt like the hype had gone down so we were able to just do stuff,” RVG’s Romy Vager says. “This time around we were like, this is what we’re doing, we’re taking control, we’re taking risks, and we’re going to make an album that sounds big so that when we hear it on the radio we want to hear it again. If we could only make one more album, it would be this one.”
Deriving its title from the hyper-recognizable experience of each day bearing witness to a world of private obsession being aired out in the infinite, Brain Worms may not be wholly new territory for the acclaimed Melbourne post-punk outfit and its frontperson, but there is reportedly a newfound radical acceptance.
Recorded in London’s Snap Studios with James Trevacus, the ten-song album surges with lush sounds and clear intentions — and the magic of an acoustic guitar, once owned by Kate Bush, given to her by Tears for Fears, who legend has it, wrote “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” on it.
“Nothing Really Changes,” Brain Worms‘ first single is am angular, 80s New Wave-inspired track rooted in big, arena rock-like riff, the band’s penchant for anthemic hooks paired with Vager’s earnest, lived-in lyricism: In this case, the song features a narrator desperately missing someone and confronting the lingering ghosts of their relationship — with frustration, anger, despair and a bit of begrudging acceptance. As the bands Vager explains, the song “started off as a songwriting experiment to write something catchy with an obnoxious riff, a cross between Divinyls and ‘Smoke on the Water.‘ It’s a song about missing someone but protecting yourself from being hurt.”
Directed by Hayden Somerville and show at the Rippon Lea Estate, the accompanying video stars the band’s Vager with a lifeless body acting as a listener to her frustration and despair — and in a playful scene that mirrors “Mary Jane’s Last Dance,” an unwilling dance partner.
“The words and music painted this haunted manor world in my head,” says Somerville. “A lifeless body represents a past relationship so nicely, while also acting as a fantastic listener for Romy. I think it’s all very therapeutic.” Vager adds, “This new record has been about taking risks so I really put myself outside of my comfort zone to make it work. I’m really proud of what we’ve made, the video compliments the melodrama and playfulness of the track perfectly.”
New Audio: French Duo Denuit Share Tense and Propulsive “I’m Bleeding”
French goth duo Denuit — Lis (vocals) and Ivi (keys) — specializes in a synth-driven goth that features elements of coldwave and post punk. Last year, the duo released their sophomore album Inferno.
Inferno‘s latests ingle “I’m Bleeding” features glistening synth arpeggios, relentless four-on-the-floor and an angular bass line paired with Lis’ achingly plaintive vocals and rousingly anthemic hooks. Sonically, the end result is a song that — to my ears — is a slick synthesis of Siouxsie and the Banshees and Whispering Sons, that evokes a creeping and unsettling sense of existential dread.
New Video: Dream Wife Shares Tongue-in-Cheek Ripper “Hot (Don’t Date a Musician)”
Deriving their name from a pointed criticism of society’s objectification of women, the acclaimed London-based JOVM mainstays Dream Wife — Rakel Mjöll (vocals) (she/her), Alice Go (guitar, vocals) (she/her) and Bella Podapec (bass, vocals) (they/them) — can trace their origins back to 2015 when the trio started the band as a art project, rooted in a unique concept: a band born out of one girl’s memories of growing up in Canada in the 1990s.
The London-based outfit’s 2018 self-titled debut was released to widespread critical acclaim, and led to the the trio opening for Garbage, The Kills and Sleigh Bells, as well as playing that year’s SXSW. Building upon a growing international profile, the members of Dream Wife also went on a series of headlining tours across the European Union and the States, which included a Rough Trade stop with New York-based genre-defying artist Sabri.
Dream Wife’s 2020 Marta Salogni-produced So When You Gonna . . . saw the JOVM mainstays writing and recording their most urgent and direct material to date. Thematically touching upon abortion, miscarriage and gender equality, the album’s material is fueled by a “it’s-now-or-never” immediacy. The album’s material seemed to be a call to action to the listener, to get up off their ass and do what they can to get things right. The album was a critical and commercial success, especially in the UK: The album landed at #18 on the UK Albums Chart, making it the only album in the Top 20 to be produced by an all womxn/non-male production and engineering team — and the only non-major label release to chart that high.
Dream Wife’s highly-anticipated third album, Social Lubrication is slated for a June 9, 2023 release through Lucky Number. Throughout their career, the band has managed to be remarkably adept at merging the political and the playful, and the forthcoming album continues upon that reputation. Forcefully vital statements are hidden within hot and heavy dance floor anthems about making out, having fun, staying curious. In the band’s words, the album is: “Hyper lusty rock and roll with a political punch, exploring the alchemy of attraction, the lust for life, embracing community and calling out the patriarchy. With a healthy dose of playfulness and fun thrown in.”
That sense of fun and openness about everything is central to the albums material. “There is a sense of fun and openness that is central to Social Lubrication, as well. “There’s a lot of lust in this album and taking the piss out of yourself and everyone you know,” Dream Wife’s Rakel Mjöll says. “It’s almost quite juvenile in that way.”
Interestingly, more than ever before, the live show is at the core of the album. “The live show is the truth of the band,” Alice Go says. “That’s at the heart of what we do and of the statements we’re making.” That energetic, pedal-to-the-metal sound explodes through the album’s material — and you can hear it through the loud, dirty riffs and choruses specifically built for dancing and shaking asses together in shared spaces. For the band’s Go, who produced the album, it was important to bottle this joyful, frenetic feeling within each other. “We wanted to get that rawness and energy across in a way that hadn’t been done before,” she says.
The live show is where the band and fans come together in shared moment of community. And to that end, the album is a celebration of community and a big ol’ middle finger to the societal barriers enforced to sever connection, playfulness, curiosity and even sexual empowerment. “Music is one of the only forms of people experiencing an emotion together in a visceral, physical, real way,” says Go. “It’s cathartic to the systemic issues that are being called out across the board in the record. Music isn’t the cure, but it’s the remedy. That’s what Social Lubrication is: the positive glue that can create solidarity and community.”
“The album is speaking to systemic problems that cannot be glossed over by lube,” the band’S Bella Podpadec says. “The things named in the songs are symptoms of f-ed up structures. And you can’t fix that. You need to pull it apart.”
Late last year, I wrote about “Leech,” an urgent, post-punk inspired ripper that saw the band’s Mjöll alternating between spoken-word-like delivery for the song’s verses and feral shouting for the song’s choruses. Mjöll’s vocal delivery is paired with an alternating song structure that features looping and wiry guitar bursts for the song’s verses and explosive, power chord-driven riffage for the song’s choruses. While the song is a tense, uneasy and forceful, mosh pit friendly anthem for our uncertain, fucked up time, “Leech” addresses the inherent double standards of power — while urgently calling for more empathy.”
“It’s an anthem for empathy. For solidarity,” the JOVM mainstays explain. “Musically tense and withheld, erupting to angry cathartic crescendos. The push and pull of the song lyrically and musically expands and contracts, stating and calling out the double standards of power. Nobody really wins in a patriarchal society. We all lose. We could all use more empathy. As our first song to be released in a while, we wanted to write something that feels like letting an animal out of a cage. It’s out. And it’s out for blood…”
The album’s second single “Hot (Don’t Date A Musician)” is a hilarious, Gang of Four-like, tongue-in-cheek ripper inspired by Mjöll’s grandmother’s sage advice — despite the fact that she herself, dated many musicians in her day — while wryly poking fun at musicians and the music adjacent, the band included. “Dating musicians is a nightmare,” Mjöll explains. “Evoking imagery of late night make-outs with fuckboy/girl/ambiguously-gendered musicians on their mattress after being seduced by song-writing chat. The roles being equally reversed. Having a laugh together and being able to poke fun at ourselves is very much at the heart of this band. This song encapsulates our shared sense of humour. Sonically it is the lovechild of CSS and Motorhead. It has our hard, live, rock edge combined with cheeky and playful vocals.”
Directed by Bethany Fitter and featuring a concept by Fitter and the members of Dream Wife, the accompanying video employs the use of the classic, follow the bouncing ball to sing along technique, split with someone swiping on profiles on a Tinder-like app. It’s a send up on dating app life that feels — well, familiar.