Death Lens
Cold World
Get ready for the heat around Death Lens to really start ramping up. After previous glowing success stories in Turnstile and Militarie Gun, the machinations around this sort of punk and super-melodic hardcore aren’t taking an off day just yet. Signing to Epitaph for this new album is definitely handy, but it’s the trade-standard proficiency at what they’ll do that’ll have Death Lens reap the greatest results. They—like all of them—know exactly how to take punk’s spartan frills, add in a ‘90s alt bent, and produce some magic. Cold World is very likely their most definitive body of proof yet.
That’s all while being the exact kind of album you’d expect to emerge from this scene by now. Death Lens’ particular taste in the Alt Nation skews more towards grunge than their compadres’, but the results play out generally similar. Their take on punk has plenty of meat and gristle, as rock-solid guitar tones and thumping basslines carve out the routinely thrilling results. Hooks seldom surpass the college-rock earworm Vacant, but a lean runtime ensures no space is wasted. There’s even room for some impressively succinct deviations, dialling up the purer hardcore impulses for Disturb The Peace, or investigating the creaking, cavernous negative zone of Limousine.
In other words, Cold World has locked in on its reputation via birthright and held it firmly in both hands. Whereas Death Lens’ previous works were still good, you can really see how much of the scene’s current lightning has been osmosed into this one. The shifted gears make all the difference, emphatic on all fronts with Bryan Torres sitting as the ringmaster to show off that vibrancy most effectively. There’s almost a pop-punk energy to the likes of Fucked Up and the title track, such is the condensed, refined space that their brusqueness is given to clatter through. Within the scene they’ve set up in, Death Lens really are making all the right moves to act as a key piece going forward.
The important thing to note is how Cold World seems to recognise the importance of symbiosis within said scene. There’s nothing stripped down to be rebuilt; Death Lens’ strengths shore up what else falls around them, in a major way. It all feeds into the symbiosis that played such a major role in this wave of punk—the natural evolution of DIY camaraderie where particular creative aspects feed off each other, and improve everything as a whole. And so along comes Cold World to strengthen the movement even more, while being uniformly strong all the way down on its own. As the prominence that’s coming for them keeps surging ahead, Death Lens will find that to be an imperative element for them. Fortunately, they’ve already shown in spades that they can keep it up.
For fans of: Militarie Gun, Koyo, Turnstile
‘Cold World’ by Death Lens is out now on Epitaph Records.
El Moono
The Waking Sun
Maybe it just takes a bit of time for some things to click. Obviously it’s El Moono who are the focus of such an observation, albeit not for most, for whom two thumbs seemed to be resoundingly up. And yet, their Temple Corrupted EP seemed to be missing something. Dunno what it was; still don’t, really, because The Waking Sun feels like where a successor would naturally go. It has it, though—that intangible, unidentifiable quality to brush away the clouds, and reveal how good El Moono seemed on impact to everyone else.
It can’t be ruled out that simply putting out a full album is what was needed to kick things in gear. El Moono’s is a sound that doesn’t seem like it’d slot well in an EP format, the kind of progressive post-hardcore for which the use of space is a premium. The memories of our dearly departed Black Peaks will undoubtedly well up here, and likely not out of coincidence. But the spectres of Deftones and older Thrice also make their return, now tessellated and hardened uo to great effect on the title track and Haunting. The feel is customarily massive and forward-thinking, and—most critically—able to sustain that. The Waking Sun is a big album, and though not all of it is particularly streamlined, the room is there to account for that.
Clearly El Moono aren’t suffering from dearths of imagination or ambition, and to see that finally put to wax really is gratifying. They’re already pencilled in to have this album sync the film The Girl Who Cried Her Eyes Out, which would probably have felt premature for them, had it been done earlier. Now, though, they’re more than ready. Just the amount of upped ante across the board would justify that, where not a single moment or fraction of their creative makeup has been elevated. Zac Johnson’s vocals especially feel the benefit, ragged and erratic but also capable of holding significant melody like on The First Man On Mars or Screw Loose. Greg Puciato is not a far-fetched yardstick, in tone or technique.
Compared to a couple of years ago, though, El Moono are now fully capable of living up to such lofty ideals. The Waking Sun always felt like something they could do, and now it’s here, to see the potential fully crystallise is a great thing. With top-end performances all over, a sound that remains enveloping, and an emotional brutality at the centre to see it off, there’s really not much to complain about anymore. El Moono took a decent start, extrapolated it out exactly as it needed to be, and wound up with what was likely always coming to them. If you also weren’t fully sold last time, there’s a pretty stellar chance you will be now.
For fans of: Black Peaks, Deftones, earlier Thrice
‘The Waking Sun’ by El Moono is released on 10th May on Lockjaw Records.
Eat Defeat
My Money’s On Me
If you’re a punk fan of a certain vintage (i.e. from the ‘90s), there’s no reason you wouldn’t like Eat Defeat. Ignorant to the fads that have choked their genre in recent memory, theirs is a pop-punk stripe that’s not strayed all that far from the roots, to its credit. Their debut in 2018 I Think We’ll Be OK came as if, partway through recording Dude Ranch, blink-182 realised they were actually from Leeds and decided to play into it; it wouldn’t sound too dissimilar. Maybe it’s not the sort to blow up in the current climate, but Eat Defeat continue to do well enough regardless.
There’s also the matter of My Money’s On Me dropping after a six-year gap, in which the disparity between multiple upheavals in the pop-punk landscape and their lack of anything of the sort slaps you in the face. Clearly this isn’t mainstream-baiting, as much as reliably playing the hits that the genre spawned from. It’s very authentic to the ‘90s, in that regard—the production its fed through is a little flimsy and thin, but what’s inside is prickling with youthful punch from head to Vans. It’s the essence of the halcyon era of skate-punk, from the quick tempos to the glances at ska on Much More Than I Wanted and We Live In A Society, to the fact that, in 2024, Eat Defeat have the audacity to title a song Gnarcolepsy.
Clearly, then, being ingratiated among the modern crop of pop-punk figureheads is not high on the agenda. This is music for—and likely by—people who came out of the womb listening to Tony Hawk soundtracks and have consumed no other forms of media since. That is to say, it’s a mite derivative of scores of acts from yesteryear, but that was never off the table. A few cheapo synth squeals and a heavied Northern brogue won’t wrest focus away that easily, after all. But as Eat Defeat barrel past the stage where that’s in any way a criticism, you find yourself getting swept up in it. There’s a purity to this that can’t be denied, freed from genre currency and the draining weight it imposes. No need to double up when the angst and / or disquiet of this style’s bedrock is a far more palatable anchor.
To that end, there’s a rather significant charm to how hard Eat Defeat go with their same-as-it-ever-was-ness. Being holed up in their own little genre corner—and away from meddlesome conventions that’d fundamentally change who they are—has turned My Money’s On Me into the tight little nostalgia machine that could. And when the band themselves have no qualms with being portrayed as such, it’s a good place to be, frankly. For a golden shot of the old stuff that lands exceedingly close to the originals, you’ll probably think so too.
For fans of: blink-182, Millencolin, MxPx
‘My Money’s On Me’ by Eat Defeat is released on 10th May on Uncle Style Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
