Royal Tusk
Altruistic
“We hope you feel like there’s no one else like Royal Tusk,” says their vocalist Daniel Carriere in the press release for Altruistic, well-meaning but clearly overestimating the capabilities on display from his band. Among the current breed of radio-rock is where Royal Tusk reside, with their big, downtuned riffs and the expected demeanour of a hard rock band. So, yeah, there’s a lot like Royal Tusk, but that doesn’t necessarily have to be a slight. Grades of quality still exist here, and thankfully, Altruistic settles its creators on the good end of things. Not exceptional but, y’know…good.
Maybe that’s a bit of a hard sell, though, because often, bands like that can still struggle with just ‘good’. It’s the result of a style of music that’s been dealt a constant battering by ‘serious’ music fans, where its own merits will be present but find it hard to shine through that brightly. That’s a rather dead-on summation of Royal Tusk here—clearly they’re better than post-grunge’s dregs that incessantly circle the drain, but there’s little elevation that comes from that. It doesn’t help that Altruistic has few peaks as it is, typically falling into decent uniformity where, other than some slower numbers towards the end like the title track and Something Like The Truth, it doesn’t leap off the page. A satisfyingly chunky, rolling listen topped off by a talented, expressive singer is the objet d’art, as it very frequently tends to be.
Clearly Royal Tusk want this to be more, but at the same time, there’s no shame in owning what you’ve got. Fire In Your Veins kicks off, and as a plumbline for what’s to come, it’s effective enough. Guitars will slam and general grit will be farmed, with similar proficiency on Relegate and The Death Of Common Sense and basically everything else it’s applicable to. Royal Tusk wind up that solid all around, perhaps slightly less so lyrically though no worse than others in their field. That’s a good thing in a vacuum, obviously, but there’s also the matter of a really competitive crop where not being at the forefront isn’t behooving.
The fact that Royal Tusk are now three albums in and their mainstream-courting profile is yet to be raised in similar stratospheric fashion might say more than anything else. They’re not bad insomuch as they’ll arrange and execute their genre building blocks in an effective way; search around for much outside of that, though, and the wheels begin to fall off. Altruistic’s appeal solely depends on a predilection for a well-oiled machine of an album, moving at a consistent pace and staying firmly on the beaten path. That, in itself, is fine. If Royal Tusk are sticking to it and hoping no else is like them, though, that isn’t. • LN
For fans of: Pop Evil, Three Days Grace, Breaking Benjamin
‘Altruistic’ by Royal Tusk is out now on MNRK Heavy.
Noah And The Loners
A Desolate Warning
Gotta be honest—at first, Noah Lonergen’s voice and its distressingly Yungblud-esque composition can give some pause. And that isn’t the fault of Noah And The Loners, as much as the overall skewed anticipation of a young punk band coming across more plastic and performative than they ought to. It’s not a fair way to think when it gives more power to the gentrifiers than they deserve, and takes it away from a legitimately promising act whose debut splash gets a lot right. If the true spirit of punk is the kids in the street making noise to fight back their own disenfranchisement, then Noah And The Loners fit among the rising class’s most determined ambassadors.
Crash Landing is something of a perfect way to introduce the EP, then, a thesis statement of wild, targeted and uncompromising action against the government austerity that, crucially, feels representative of the age of its performers. Across A Desolate Warning, there’s a number of sharpened edges that can only reach that state through a youthful perspective. Just Kids is a song that certainly requires it, the most on-the-nose depiction through being belittled and having expectations of political awareness diminished on the basis of being ‘just kids’. Well, despite the swings taken being rather broad, there’s enough force to them to at least insinuate that Noah And The Loners know what they’re talking about. Like on Hell Of A Day, the ennui can be too baked in to everyday life to ignore.
Thus, a handful of punk gnashers do the job to express that, as they have for about half a century now. Revolution is in the ethos, not the sound; curt, simple fury is really all that’s needed, and that’s delivered. There’s a hard-as-nails guitar tone that really works, tighter than your average punk basement-dweller but still faithful on Just Kids or Hell Of A Day. A showcase of how you can still emulate that as tight-knit unit is not nothing this early on, especially in not making it feel like a pantomime of the genuine article. You do believe that Lonergen has all the snot and spit and grit in his voice that he portrays, because it doesn’t go anywhere when the tempos are pulled back for something more insidious and constricting on the centrepiece You Make Me (Fall Apart). It’s the most ambitious song on the EP as an entity that grows considerably with each new shift and step, and also the clearest sign of Noah And The Loners have considerably more going for them than meets the eye.
So yeah, a pleasant surprise all round on this one. How far it can take it will ultimately have to be proven, but for punk that can actually back up the (deliberate) braying obnoxiousness of its frontman with some actual firepower, A Desolate Warning promptly does its job. It’s cool without playing to stylishness or aesthetic, rather more comfortable with letting the spirit of it all scream out instead. Exactly how punk like this should be done, for the record, and the fact there’s a band this young standing up for that is undeniably good. Some even greater stuff on the way then, eh? • LN
For fans of: Loose Articles, The Meffs, The Chats
‘A Desolate Warning’ by Noah And The Loners is out now on Marshall Records.
Big Hug
A Living You Never Know
On their debut EP Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time, Big Hug showed, right from the jump, they have an intimate knowledge of how DIY emo works. More to the point, they seem to understand how perseverance and playing the long game tends to pay off most. You’re very unlikely to get a true wunderkind exploding from the underground overnight; it’s a scene in which those who keep the tapestry woven are rewarded with the most satisfaction. That’s basically Big Hug in a nutshell now—ingratiated into the ever-churning, ever-metastasising soup that is DIY-ing it.
So, almost a year to the day after their debut, a new EP arrives, as subtle and unaccompanied by fanfare as expected. It’s also arguably not as good as what came before, but far from a sophomore slump either. If anything, it’s indicative of how Big Hug’s strength comes from them as an entity, as opposed to these individual fragments of output. Really, A Living You’ll Never Know only falters through comparison; on its own, it’s a perfectly solid inclusion in the math-emo and alt-punk canons. That sawdust-covered production and the embellished sparkles of guitar is an easy cheat for many, maybe made even easier with some punkier touches in the mix on Cruellemonde De La Hi Fi. Then again, the instrumental opener Pyrrhic Opposites is just so gorgeous in sonorous quivers and beams of light intermingling that it may just be the best thing here.
The hooks might not be to the same grade as before overall (even though Gary On Earth comes pretty close), but again, the collective package is where the difference is made up. Across just three songs and an intro, Big Hug show what they’re about in impressive depth, traversing the melancholy of a breaking Britain via a richness that emo of this stripe is almost exclusively equipped to conjoin. Unpolished and unstated, particularly as a vocal unit, Big Hug’s execution reads as incredibly human, and normal above all. That’s something the UK arm as a whole always seems to get right, and it’s no different on A Living You’ll Never Know; the smallness and succinctness of it as a piece only adds to that, if anything.
Even if they’re very much still a component within the scene rather than tearing a swathe through it, Big Hug are now two for two in terms of wholeheartedly nailing the angles at which to come from. There’s a simple warmth and comfort exuded from them, and a familiarity that’s just right in doses of this size. That’s the kind of leeway you get when you’re still an up-and-comer, and Big Hug are leveraging every bit of it to great effect. Whatever comes next, and whenever it comes, they’re bound to remain a credit among the DIY vanguard regardless. • LN
For fans of: The Promise Ring, Lakes, The Yacht Club
‘A Living You Never Know’ by Big Hug is released on 1st March.
Hand Of Kalliach
Corryvreckan
Following on from their 2021 full length album Samhainn, Hand Of Kalliach push themselves further into the spectral depths with Corryvreckan. It’s delightful to see how the duo are progressing with their sound in this new release through musical arrangements and their ability to bring the mythology of Scotland to life.
Greeted with crashing waves, Three Seas opens Corryvreckan. The saltwater spray of the swirling waters can almost be tasted in the air; the atmospheric sculpting of the soundscapes gives a highly immersive effect. Ghostly vocals performed by Sophie and orchestral strings open the album with a backdrop of airy synths, before exploding into thunderous percussion and dramatic layering of distorted instruments. This careful crafting of the arrangement awakens the Scottish Gaelic folklore that bleeds through the music, lyrics and Hand Of Kalliach as a whole. The ethereal manifestation produces an enveloping embrace. Following the scenic seascape of Three Seas, the following Fell Reigns dives straight in with the heavy. Powerful metal is entwined with folk melodies with instruments ebbing and flowing between different tones and textures across the momentum fuelled layers. Hand Of Kalliach meld the otherworldly with more aggressive sounds in a manner that is aptly befitting the folklore that inspires it. The brutality of Dìoghaltas really showcases the ferocious and dark side to their music while entangled with the fantastical.
Shadows of dissonance lay in Cirein-cròin. The weight behind the percussion is relentless. The pursuit of darkness arises through the highly rhythmic character of the track, above which guitar leads and Sophie’s ghostly vocals soar. Across the tracks monstrous harsh vocals contribute to the portrayal of something that is beyond human. Exploring the expanse of the depths from the seemingly unending gloom revealed in Deathless to thrilling anticipation and momentum of The Hubris Of Prince Bhreacan, Hand Of Kalliach maintain the captivating allure of their sound across the album. Unbroken You Remain is brutal offering, but this onslaught contains within anthemic choruses and aspects of delicate beauty. The overall sound is truly epic. A short series of notes from a gentle twinkling piano are soon consumed in The Cauldron’s introduction. This interplay of highly contrasting sounds, instruments and layers makes for a more forceful impact. Drawing Corryvreckan to a close is the spellbinding Of Twilight And The Pyre. Celtic instruments are given space while rhythmic percussion grounds the track. When the guitars and bass kick in, it is an extraordinary uplift of power before melting away into the watery worlds.
Hand Of Kalliach have the ability to enchant and transport their listeners. Their manner of blending Scottish folk music with the melodic and heavy traverses our well-trodden plains leading into impressive realms that are intriguing and enticing. • HR
For fans of: Eluveitie, Dark Oath, Aephanemer
‘Corryvreckan’ by Hand Of Kalliach is out now on Prosthetic Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall (LN) and Holly Royle (HR)
