Slope
Freak Dreams
About half a minute into Slope’s Freak Dreams, there’s a big, fat, bubbling bass riff that rises into view like a breaching whale, and that’s where they hook ya from then on. The throwback element is as obvious as it would be any act proudly bandying around the term ‘funk-rock’ in 2024, but you also can’t argue with what they’re throwing back to.In here, there’s Faith No More, Jane’s Addiction, early Red Hot Chili Peppers—basically, if they were in or around ‘90s alt-metal with a fondness for a bassline, chances are Slope are fully onboard. Morph that into a sound profile with sensibilities that fit a distinctly Turnstile-shaped mould, and what’s not to love?
The thing is, though, Freak Dreams doesn’t appear to be trying to sound like a hardcore album. It indelibly does with its barking, grunting back-and-forths and dynamo rambunctiousness—to say nothing of the closer Out Of The Blue Into The Black which is as straight-up as it comes—but the allure to that specific group of ‘90s iconoclasts jumps out much further. And that’s a real boost for Slope, in terms of finding new corners to turn and angles to bend into. If True Blue didn’t outright throw out the line “suck my kiss”, you’d still be able to tell from how the bass on Talk Big and Chasing Highs clacks and squalls, or how Hectic Life is built around a hyperactive Navarro riff by any other name.
On the flipside, there’s also the ‘drawback’ of trying not to sound hardcore—when you fall into it this well, you just have to face facts and embrace it. Dual vocalists Simon and Fabio lead that charge, as a pair of screeching, cement-cracking beastie boys for whom the streetwise knock of this approach is first nature, never mind second. As Nosedive tips into its Walk This Way vocal flow, Slope’s reverse-engineering of the hardest grooves known to man is absolutely apparent. Saying that, an album like Freak Dreams, with its zero filler and the tightest possible fixation of its goal, never leaves you with any reason to doubt their capabilities. The way the bass roils and the riffs sear alongside is such a winning combo, and one carried with the finesse of the seasoned veterans baked into its DNA.
There’s also the fact that, simply enough, no one sounds like this anymore. Yeah, there’s still Turnstile, but Slope are distinctly carrying their own torch, with which comes far greater freedom. It’s expertly exemplified on Freak Dreams, an album of rattling momentum with that feels simultaneously big and explosive, and well-grounded with enough scrappiness to throw exactly the right suckerpunches when required. ‘90s throwbacks rarely have this kind of fire roaring away at such a constant, scorching temperature; even when they do, Slope could easily still take them.
For fans of: Turnstile, Jane’s Addiction, early Red Hot Chili Peppers
‘Freak Dreams’ by Slope is released on 2nd February on Century Media Records.
Levels
Pulse
No. We don’t need more of this. We don’t need more metalcore bands you’ve never heard of trying to get you to hear them by just copying Bad Omens. This is a new development, too; their debut in 2018 was generic as metalcore often is, but the beeline they’ve made to this specific sound, at this specific time, just feels shameless. Pulse really does say everything it needs to about its creators—Levels clearly have no ideas of their own to speak of, and if they’re willing to channel their efforts into a release whose sole purpose is to act as springboard onto the bandwagon, there’s next to no chance of them ever developing any.
So, what is here, then? Well, the title track begins proceedings in expected fashion, with its heavily produced throb that kicks into the facsimile of a mid-paced metalcore hook that, after hearing it borderline unchanged on actual metric tons of releases, is so goddamn boring. This town bike of a sound never improves, or has anything done to it that’s even somewhat novel, and when Levels plaster it all over their EP unchanged, it’s just the worst. A kind-of heavy grind doesn’t equate to something impactful anymore, and yet Levels don’t seem to care. They’re perfectly content with the blandest five metalcore templates around, because who needs to stand out when you can maybe pull in some streams through mistaken identity?
Apparently Pulse is Levels trying their hand at ‘genre-bending’, though it can’t really count when said genres were already bent into this exact shape. Even on Opium Of Man where Kolby Carignan tries a lower, throatier vocal style over the harsher synth buzzes, that in itself is just as much of a trope now. At best, this is B-rate imitation, saved from truly shit territory by at least having some production budget behind it. Clearly someone has faith in Levels to pull them up like this, namely The Plot In You’s Landon Tewers, who appears to have stepped up as some kind of de facto mentor in the process of this EP. It makes way too much sense when you consider how many of these exact criticisms can be levelled at that band just as easily.
But obviously, Bad Omens are the particular white whale here. They’re probably the biggest band this sector of metalcore has right now, and you can hardly begrudge Levels for wanting a bit of that action for themselves. But, like…is this the way to do it? Bad Omens sound like literally everyone else too, but that’s hardly an excuse being so blatant in your opportunism. There is such a thing as rising above, y’know! But whatever; apparently Levels are going to be superstars now, off the back of this ‘innovate’, ‘forward-thinking’, ‘daring’ new release. Don’t be surprised if you never hear a peep from them ever again.
For fans of: Bad Omens, The Plot In You, Dayseeker
‘Pulse’ by Levels is released on 2nd February on Sharptone Records.
Same Side
Oh No
In his dalliances with the maturing pop-punksmith’s trades of emo and indie-rock, Kevin Geyer is likely The Story So Far’s widest-reaching creative. It should speak to the fairly limited magnitude of that statement when that’s just a normal throughline, but hey, Elder Brother and Pile Of Love have regularly been good. Same Side, on the other hand, still feels like the pandemic project it began is—smaller and more delicate, and largely less impactful. Geyer has stated in no uncertain terms how there was never a grand ambition to begin with here, and to it’s whole credit, Oh No is staying true to that.
The strongest compliment that can be paid is how nondescriptly nice it sounds. At no point does Geyer really push his luck when it comes to what he can work with, be it in indie, flecks of grunge like on Now, or the drifting bedroom-pop that underscores a fair quotient of these ideas. Sonically and production-wise, it’s all perfectly listenable and easygoing, and all the other descriptors that you tend to wheel out when an album doesn’t present a whole lot to say. Oh No almost wears that as a crutch sometimes, right down to a mix that sounds notably quieter, perhaps to exemplify the sense of silkiness and not overpower Geyer’s waifish delivery.
Honestly, on the basis of a short-enough listen akin to indie-rock white noise, Oh No might have something there. There’s not a rough or coarse bone to be found here; even when Geyer coos “You told them to fuck off” as the opening gambit of On & On & On, it’s a passive observation rather than anything confrontational. ‘Passive’ is probably the word of the day for Oh No, an album that drifts in its own self-aware bliss, feeling open and earnest but never in a soul-rending way. That’d just be too much, after all; this isn’t the project for that. At the same time, a bit more muscle wouldn’t go amiss, if only to stop this dissipating so much that it’s practically particles in the air.
That’s all to say that none of this is outright bad, but that can that really still stand when so little sticks in the brain enough to make a judgement? The Same Side EPs had that same problem, and a full-length in which the issues aren’t addressed isn’t going to mitigate that. And with the feel of ‘side-project’ that swaddles this album at every angle and crease, that’s pretty much inescapable. On the bright side, it’s not every day you run into an album that you can forget you’re listening to while it’s still playing—that’s a distinguishing feature, right? …right?
For fans of: Elder Brother, This Wild Life, Pile Of Love
‘Oh No’ by Same Side is released on 2nd February on Pure Noise Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
