SNAYX
Better Days
What’s that they say about judging books by covers? Not to do it? Well, for SNAYX, who moulted a simple riff on Soft Play into a more cosmopolitan punk guise over the course of a debut EP, it speaks rather soundly. In fact, if there’s one thing that SNAYX have proven most adept at, it’s disrupting expectations. Since that EP, drummer Lainey Loops has joined the fold to fully lift the ‘garage-rock-duo-defined-by-mininalism’ curse, of which a surprising deftness in sound and influence had already kept a bead on. Hell, the fact this isn’t called Weaponized Youth, Pt. 2 scuppers a traditional path in its own right.
But that’s just SNAYX’s forte, really—to do what they want, among the healthy crop of others skirting over rock’s formerly rigid leylines. Here are four more tracks in that vein, all with marked, fundamental differences, but that still cut the distinct figure of SNAYX. The main commonality is the sawing bass that chips away for its groove, and proceeds to heave what’s left along with it. Concrete bring its furthest forward as a juddering dance-punk rager, while Sink Or Swim sneers and snarls more explicitly, and King is borderline Arctic Monkeys in its lithe, strolling tempos. Unquestionably, there’s range and technique here far surpassing any initial expectations, with the meat-and-potatoes garage-punk bashing-out standing as a beacon within.
Where SNAYX have managed to utterly tower above the rest, though, is in the ability to be believable in their raucousness. It translates better live, certainly, but the gnashing and quaking and frontman Charlie Herridge’s ever-expressive vocal have a shapeshifting, on-the-fly quality that’s surprisingly rare in this capacity. More so than the acts whose ire and acrimony is fed through the one snotty sneer that often congeals into what they’re ‘supposed’ to sound like, SNAYX feel adaptable in the blows they deal. The energy of punk, indie and hip-hop is far more flexible and quick-stepping, and SNAYX evidently know how to build a song from them free of obvious seams or joins. And when the current forerunners of alternative music are trafficking in that exact kind of genre agnosticism, a variation tied to as recognisable and—dare we say—mainstream-ready touchstones as this has potential to do some serious numbers.
Also, it’s just fun, cool stuff. The unpretentious way that SNAYX pitch themselves lends itself to that wholly, where their populist intentions marry an alternative core that can still be as raw and rowdy as you like. Domination could very well be theirs, but they also give off the impression that, if it weren’t, it wouldn’t bother them too much. As long as they’re able to keep moving forward, that’s more than enough, and Better Days is a consderable broadening in all good ways. The thing is, SNAYX don’t have a lot of material under their belt, and yet the notion that they’ve only begun to ramp up is really what’s worth hanging on for. Whatever it is that’s coming, SNAYX clearly couldn’t be more ready.
For fans of: Kid Kapichi, Soft Play, Nova Twins
‘Better Days’ by SNAYX is released on 9th February.
The Chisel
What A Fucking Nightmare
On an album called What A Fucking Nightmare, with an opening title track dirging along as the repetition of that phrase constantly builds in intensity, The Chisel make themselves, and their position, pretty known. Indeed, like one of the bands they spun off from, Chubby And The Gang, they’ve grown quite the reputation in punk and hardcore circles for just that. Theirs is punk in its lairiest, most classic, most British form, being screamed from the streets with fists held aloft and equally ready to swing. Don’t let that shiny Pure Noise signing fool you; The Chisel are probably among the closest to the feel of Oi! that exists right now. (And yes, it’s not strictly Oi!, but it’s close enough to where anyone who isn’t a total genre pedant won’t notice or mind.)
That’s not to say some increased profile isn’t a factor, or that it doesn’t inform some direction in which this album points. Living For Myself is the big one in a more Americanised take on street-punk, as if to take back the cues that Rancid took from the Brits while taking their own into consideration, too. There’s also Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet, imbued with a revolutionary spirit ready to rise up rather than smash down, and to be perfectly honest, that doesn’t scream ‘The Chisel’ in its ethos. For a band named after a tool designed to not just break things apart, but over the course of repeated hammerings, they’re far better suited for brawlers like Fuck ‘Em, where every piece of sonic tissue will crash and fly off each other. It’s the same with the roughneck vocals that tumble over Cry Your Eyes Out, or the bellydragging riff and shouts on Lying Little Rat (Propaganda).
Basically, when The Chisel show off their penchant for some pint-throwing, Great British rowdiness, they’re basically untouchable. In the realms of hulking, blunt clouts to the face, anyway; it’s all a feature of whatever breed of spiked-collared mutt that vocalist Cal Graham seems to be embodying. His is arguably the presence that ties The Chisel’s entire enterprise together, the man in the street adamant to beat back the disenfranchisement and austerity that’s plagued the working classes, most likely through physical means. It’s why the guitar tones are so bruising and overlaid with the rain and stark dreariness of any urban British landscape. Graham’s musical background is actually in electronic music, but it’s unquestionable how much a punk rawness—both from him and everything around him—will hit.
And on an album like this, that can cover for a lot. What A Fucking Nightmare is a bit too long with patches that aren’t all that distinct, but through the lens in which they’re sold, and the intent with which they’re committed to delivering on, The Chisel can bulldozer through that like it’s nothing. This is built for the live environment, preferably free from barriers or restrictions that’ll dilute the inevitable carnage. It just wouldn’t be proper to have The Chisel hamstrung in that way, not when their quintessence is one of punching up until the bastards above are bloody and red-raw. The thrill in that simply writes itself.
For fans of: Chubby And The Gang, Arms Race, Big Cheese
‘What A Fucking Nightmare’ by The Chisel is released on 9th February on Pure Noise Records.
Takida
The Agony Flame
So, apparently Takida have been going for 25 years now, which seems like a big deal until you actually hear them. Whatever the list of criteria is you might conjure from the phrase ‘the European version of post-grunge’, Takida assuredly hit them, arguably even more so now. They’re as uncomplicated as rock music comes, though not in the fun way, and also find themselves succumbing to their Swedish pop heritage through added strings and pianos. Though in the case of that bit of extra ‘razzle-dazzle’, it doesn’t really account for much when, at its core, you’re dealing with the hulking un-grace of rock’s most inflexible subgenre.
In other words, Takida find themselves being too ornate to faceplant into post-grunge’s muddy pond, but that doesn’t mean they’re not disappointingly conservative in using what they’ve got. It’s a chore to get through The Agony Flame, by virtue of how difficult its own creators make it to find any kind of inroad to enjoyment. The production smothers it at birth, for a start. There’s not a memorable riff or musical refrain to speak out, thanks to how mushy and lifeless practically every single sound is. All the weight is sapped from…well, everything, to leave a polished, parcelled but drastically bland husk. You might as well add pacing into that particular grievance too, in how there is none. Even just basic rise-and-fall is outside the realms of possibility here, as Takida slosh through their own dourness with barely a twinkle of evolution in sight. And with every prayer that some well-placed backing strings might remedy that, they’re entirely ancillary at best and perfunctory at worst.
If that weren’t enough, Takida are also ‘blessed’ with Robert Pettersson as a frontman, purveyor of a performing style that one might charitably call ‘limited’. It’s on the basis of a latent vibe attached, where a belief of grabbing the sky in emotional ecstasy exists that the flat, underpowered reality can’t even pretend to mirror. Maybe there’s something approaching a less catatonic state on Sickening, though it’s a rare outlier to an otherwise locked-in rule. At least there’s an austere chill that can benefit the usual post-grunge go-around; sufficiently dealing with a typically limited set of thematic building blocks is a defter touch than many similar are capable of. There’s even a bit of a curveball conceptually with Your Blood Awaits You, about a mother struggling to raise her daughter whose self-destructive tendencies drive a wedge between the two.
That’s…roughly it, though. 25 years, and this is where Takida are at in terms of offerings—an album that’s boring to its bones, and furthered kneecapped by a slew of sonic and performance features that do it absolutely no favours. It’s actually the perfect recipe for a totally inconsequential listen, topped off by how Takida’s presence that’s borderline nonexistent outside of mainland Europe paints them to be even less effective. Even then, they’ve sounded (a tad) better than this, so maybe it’s actually a late-career slump and everyone is none the wiser. Not that it matters; an album whose own titular extremities are this invalidated by the output within is about as destined for the shovelware pile as a post-grunge album in 2024 ought to be.
For fans of: Nickelback, HIM, Disturbed when they do ballads
‘The Agony Flame’ by Takida is released on 9th February on Napalm Records.
My Life Story
Loving You Is Killing Me
My Life Story are a bit of an odd case. They’ve indelibly left a mark as a pop culture footnote—their original drummer went on to join The Cure, don’t ya know?—but they’re also a rare example of a band from the Britpop age who’ve not been cremated under nostalgia’s boot. Even rarer, they’re still making music with effort put in. Of course, that’s on the proviso that expectations of greatness aren’t implanted by birthright. They can be, as shown by a surprisingly strong orchestral-pop reclamation on their 2019 comeback World Citizen, but Loving You Is Killing Me doesn’t quite match up. If anything, it illustrates the perils of some of this late-stage precociousness—despite a floor of quality in tow, you might skirt past a bit of what made you special in the first place.
But let’s also be fair—none of this is too far outside of My Life Story’s comfort zone, even if there is a bit less magnetic pull to straight-up indie-rock than their more lush, spacious pop. You find it on songs like Running Out Of Heartbeats or Numb Numb Numb, where a louder, brasher sound palette and Jake Shillingford’s more tentative classic-pop voice can have difficulty coexisting. Compared to later cuts like B-side Girl or The Urban Mountaineer, where there is greater breathing room factored in, the step in how effortlessly they’ll fall out is rather apparent. The basic umbrella they appear under doesn’t change, though, nor does the general era of influence that’s mined. It’s the usual mien of ‘90s pop and indie, at the end of the day, something that My Life Story know thoroughly and play into as such. Even if it’s not their absolute best, it’s not a case of shunning that entirely.
Of course, let’s not ignore Naked in that conversation, where things do go wrong in pretty obvious fashion. It’s the sort of surf-rock jaunt that couldn’t feel further outside of My Life Story’s wheelhouse, the usual dose of cringe courtesy of older musicians attempting to manufacture the ‘fun’ of old rock ‘n’ roll, and sounding neither age-appropriate, nor natural. There’s a poise to My Life Story at their best; it’s what being primarily tied to orchestral arrangements will get you. It’s also something that’s not as common across Loving You Is Killing Me in sound, even if Shillingford can typically pick up the slack on his own. With his vocal restraint and ever-quirky lyricism, it’s roughly on balance altogether, and really is the strongest component to across the bulk of the album. He’s the remained unfrayed tie to My Life Story’s bottom line, albeit a robust one.
It’ll still be enough to please the longtime fans, even more so that they aren’t waiting another two decades for this one. Outside of that…well, maybe the market to discover My Life Story for the first time is rather dry, though it’s not an impossible feat on this album. Chances are better on World Citizen (or a lot of their pre-hiatus work), but the work being put in still counts, after all. Besides, albums in this bracket don’t often hit a crossover between creatively fluid, untaxing to spin, and still pretty good at the same time. A win’s still a win, even if it’s not shattering the ground beneath its feet.
For fans of: Mercury Rev, The Divine Comedy, Menswear
‘Loving You Is Killing Me’ by My Life Story is released on 9th February on Exilophone Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
