Escuela Grind
Dreams On Algorithms
Remember PWR BTTM? How they were primed as the heirs apparent to queer, progressive indie-punk, only for some horrific allegations to be made right before their breakthrough album dropped and sent them into disrepair? Well, Escuela Grind are kind of like hardcore’s equivalent. They’re probably best known now for accusations made against them and their tour manager by a former tour bus driver, of mistreatment, disingenuous behaviour and sexual harassment. It’s a tangled saga that’s worth looking into for the details, if only to contextualise the backlash that isn’t from brainlets complaining about pronouns and how ‘woke’ Escuela Grind are. That right there is the double-edged sword of a brand based so vociferously around progressivism—if it turns out you’re a shitty person behind the scenes, not only does it make good intentions seem like a cheap front, but you’re giving rope to the Chud Brigade that they’ll never, ever stop running with.
Anyway, Escuela Grind have a new album, and nobody cares. Why would they? Either they’d be continuing on the same idpol-fuelled hate-train as normal, or be on the other side of a bridge burned beyond repair. But even disregarding that—and entering into parameters of what a review of music should entail—this just isn’t interesting. Part of it is how ‘Grind’ remains a misnomer in what’s basically just another chug-a-lug hardcore fest, but it’s not even like Dreams On Algorithms is much within that. This is remarkably faceless stuff, with its unique moments relegated to a more unorthodox time signature for Planned Obsolescence’s throwdown, and Katerina Economou giving a good but fleeting clean-sung performance on Turbulence. And that’s it. The most damning casualty of that is Constant Passenger, a team-up with The Acacia Strain where they feel like an utter non-presence throughout.
But even with all that hanging overhead, Dreams On Algorithms is too profoundly ordinary to call awful. For anyone after a more tangible target to field their ire at Escuela Grind—sorry, it won’t be this. By no means is it better than the prominent bruisers and slab-heads on the same wavelength, but, y’know…it’s still okay. But that, too, probably works against Escuela Grind more than anything. When they’re defining angle is of a queer band in a space frequented by walls of meat who are decidedly not, and when themes like that can be sewn in more deeply than most will be willing to investigate, Escuela Grind aren’t presented as anything all that special. Hell, with the nasty cry of “Fuckin’ bitch!” on Moral Injury, you could almost confuse it for one of the more knuckle-dragging moshcall mouthpieces. Maybe to some, that’s a neat bit of cosmic irony considering where Escuela Grind currently find themselves socially, though it’s probably unintended lyrical pareidolia rather than any sort of gotcha.
And sure, coming back to the controversy over and over again might seem like improper treatment of the situation, but where else do you possibly go? The band are already tainted by it, and there quite simply isn’t enough in the output alone to discuss away from it. As a purely musical product, Escuela Grind produce so little in the way of emotion that it’s almost a blessing that they’ve found themselves here, if only to have something to talk about. Without that, this is bang-average hardcore for genre completionists and no one else. At least before PWR BTTM got cancelled, being excited and enthused about them was at least a possibility. • LN
For fans of: The Acacia Strain, Year Of The Knife, BRAT
‘Dreams On Algorithms’ by Escuela Grind is released on 18th October on MNRK Heavy.
Ad Infinitum
Abyss
Since emerging in 2020, German / Swiss quartet Ad Infinitum have experienced fast-growing success and now present their fourth studio album in as many years. While initially rooting their modern sound in the symphonic metal realms, the outfit have taken a stylistic shift in the new album Abyss. Ad Infinitum retain their catchy hooks, riffs, and charismatic appeal in this new era but now are leaning further into pop and progressive elements. The band are collating from a wider palette of sounds and engaging in more technical and experimental compositional arrangements.
One of Ad Infinitum’s key characteristics is their accessibility; even now in Abyss, pushing further with djent and progressive song arrangements, the tracks are easy to consume. The catchy motifs, riffs, licks, and lyrical hooks, make the track list easy to digest and even begin singing along to on a first listen through. Introducing the album, My Halo presents a strong blend of pop-esque electronics accompanied with Melissa Bonny’s captivating vocals. Percussion hits and rising instrumental parts brings drama as track explodes into its full form. Grounding sonic power arises from the metal instrumentation while Bonny’s vocals soar above alongside synths. Ad Infinitum play with the light and dark unleashing their ferocious side in the breakdown, and showcasing Bonny’s incredible diversity and prowess across her vocals. The interplay with aggressive and lighter sounds carries across Abyss weaving through the instrumental and vocal parts to aptly enhance and provide additional intrigue. Follow Me Down releases a wave of guitars injecting textural appeal, before Outer Space takes off into the atmospheric with an invigorating feel.
Further into the album, Euphoria provides an alluring and uplifting sound, before Surrender brings a dynamic pop-fuelled anthem that contains a brutal djent twist within. Lying in wait in the latter third of Abyss, these final few tracks reveal a thrilling collection of influences. Ranging from high-octane The One You Hold Onto infused with electronic and industrial touches to the rhythmic rock style (only heavier) of Dead End, Ad Infinitum demonstrate their widespread collection of musical influences and how to incorporate them into their own sound. Among these tracks are multiple layers of interest with unexpected shifts added here and there—it certainly keeps you on your toes with anticipation as to what awaits next and may even require a few listens to fully take it all in.
Abyss leaves behind the symphonic world, and while some gothic touches remain here and there, it’s a hefty deep dive into pop-led djent-y metal realms. The quartet have crafted an album that is highly enjoyable, upbeat with plenty of darkness and compelling intrigue remaining. • HR
For fans of: Spiritbox, Poppy, Dust In Mind
‘Abyss’ by Ad Infinitum is out now on Napalm Records.
Loyals
Love Me Bad
Love Me Bad is the exact sort of release to come from an act who released their debut in 2018 with barely anything to show since. In fact, this sort of alt-pop was probably outdated even then. The disconnect between what Loyals are doing and anything even the tiniest bit popular is vast, almost to the point of outright redundancy. They’ll jovially proclaim to “write pop songs that make [them] feel things”, only to wheel out this insipidly bland fivesome that sounds simultaneously like the backwash of a decade-old scene, and a small, limp attempt to thrust forward that couldn’t sound less important.
It’s the mood of Love Me Bad that hits most immediately and lingers in unwanted ways. Loyals carry a vibe that’s not only sickly-sweet, but coated in the celibate feeling that you’d probably expect from alt-pop signees to Tooth & Nail. At their steamiest on No Tomorrow (which is still horrendously limited, but you take what you can get), at least something begins to gestate, even if it is the same ‘80s pop pastiche that literally anyone operating in that decade should be claiming royalties from by now. Otherwise, Love Me Bad is so small and cloyingly antiseptic. Up All Night is weightless and flavourless in ways which the narrator’s assertion of “I got no cool” is almost the operative line. Later on, Give To Me’s warps and whirrs try to evoke a pocket-sized Illenium, only to replace any life-affirming bombast with fragility and flaccid nothingness.
For an EP focused on trying to piece back together a relationship, there’s rarely an urgency that Loyals can make use of, or a sense of something greater. Not only does Dane Allen sound like all three Jonas Brothers combined, he writes around these subjects like they would have in their Disney Channel days. Again, No Tomorrow is the sole instance that works, for a miniscule silver of intensity and the feel of actually knowing what sex and intimacy is. At least when compared to smoothed-out, codified ‘drama’ with stakes starting in the negatives and staying there, it’s anything.
Finally, when it all fizzles out on the wispy “aw shucks” of She Hates Me, you’re left exactly as filled as you began. That is to say, not at all, when Love Me Bad has barely any calorific value, let alone nutritional. As the kind of thing you’d pass over for being derivative in its appropriate age, right now, it’s such a nonentity that it’s almost paradoxically fascinating. There is a band in this grand old year of 2024 who believe that this is a worthwhile musical endeavour to hang their hat on. That’s…almost impressive. At least, until a half-second later when you realise that Loyals feel about irrelevant as it gets, and you proceed to forget they ever existed with extreme prejudice. • LN
For fans of: The Driver Era, COIN, half•alive
‘Love Me Bad’ by Loyals is released on 18th October on Tooth & Nail Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall (LN) and Holly Royle (HR)
