The first tape is now up here on douban where you can listen to tracks from those who participated. The mixtape is ongoing for now so feel free to follow the instructions in the original post and there will be a new tape every 3 months or so.

More noise here from Australia, although this one comes about four years after it was actually recorded. Bikini Eyebolt existed for a brief period between 2007 and 2008 and managed to record this full-length somewhere in between. I think one of the guys has since moved on to the sludgier sounding DEAD, who released a pretty cool record last year on Wantage actually. Not sure if the Bikini Eyebolt record ever got a release back when it was originally recorded as details about the band and the record itself are pretty elusive. Whether it did or not, Tenzenmen has seen it fit to release this year. Unlike the bass and drum approach of DEAD, Bikini Eyebolt was a full band and one that seemed to teeter between the throwback type of rubbery post-punk and more full frontal AmRep style scuzz. Although I’d say the former is more prevalent in their sound, at least of what makes up this record. I’m assuming this is the majority of what they ever managed to record properly, ten tunes in all and not too shabby at that.

Until about two years ago, I must admit that my knowledge of Chinese music of any sort, be it underground or overground, was almost non-existent. What I now know of the Chinese underground is largely a result of the Tenzenmen label. While it is far from exclusively Chinese in its output, its founder, Shaun Tenzenmen, has been enthusiastically evangelistic in promoting Chinese artists in Australia. Thankfully, there’s no patronisation involved – most of the releases are at the top of their game in and between their respective genres.

Dear Eloise play 60s inspired bubblegum pop infused with small shards of broken glass. Think of, maybe, Teenage Fanclub with a bit less hi in their fi. And with girl vocals in a washed out Galaxy 500 kind of way. Grainy guitars strum below organs, piano and straight, reverbed drums. Melodies float, enmeshed in the sound. While there are similarities with other contemporary buzz-pop groups (Vivian Girls and Dum Dum Girls come to mind), what stands out is that Dear Eloise seem less concerned with current ideas of hipness and more concerned with playing around with the sounds in which they are rooted.

The 7″ format is ideal for this kind of music. It is, after all, the type of music originally created when the format was at its peak. And so it is that two short, sharp jabs of Dear Eloise go down perfectly well. The two releases (A-sides taken from the band’s 2011 album, with new B-sides) are a great pair. The music is not going to change the world just yet, but there’s a good chance the world might seem to sparkle a little more for a few 3-minute bursts.

Adrian Elmer

Melbourne boasts a rich history of innovative and interesting underground music. Some better-known examples might be The Boys Next Door or The Dirty 3 but there are some great more-obscure acts like The Eddie Current Suppression Ring, Whitehorse or The Day Everything Became Nothing. There is also a fantastic record store there called Missing Link, which offers a fine selection of Australian and international music. So with all this in mind, it’s not really surprising that DEAD could (seemingly) suddenly emerge fully formed and offer up their own brand of fascinating, eclectic and unconventional sludgy punk.

DEAD’s debut album Thundaaaaah! possesses a strong minimalist streak. The band consists of merely a bassist and drummer but the aesthetic also permeates their music, which is often hypnotic and repetitious or sparse and empty but this is not ambient music: it jars and is acerbic. DEAD fails to fit neatly into a convenient category. The band describe themselves as punk but given their propensity towards pisstake (“Most other bands are awful but not DEAD, they’re awesome” goes the bio.) it’s difficult to know how to take anything they say.

Labels aside, the music has legs. ‘Wherever You Go We Will Catch You’ stands out as the band’s magnum opus. What starts out with a simple Slint-esque instrumental pattern falls away into some kind of quasi-Morricone whistling refrain (!) before reaching its final destination: a wall of fuzzed out screaming vitriol. It’s really good. And this, in a nutshell, is typical of what you can expect from Thundaaaaah! With an obvious leaning towards the extreme, DEAD never loose their grip on the contrasts that are essential to maintain compulsion and prevent music like this from turning into a dull bludgeoning.

DEAD are a refreshing new voice and a reminder that, in the right hands, less can be more. Stripped back to the bare bones, they remain menacing but without any tedious histrionics or tough guy antics. Thundaaaaah! is great. It has humour and it has anger. It is a wall of noise but also delicate and open. It’s like being punched in the face while getting a back rub. And really, isn’t that what everyone wants?

Interesting set of songs from this Australian trio, if anything because what little information I had about these guys led me to believe that this was going to be some type of standard post-hardcore fare. I mean, I guess in a way it is sort of similar to some of the more rough around the edges 90’s emo/post-hardcore groups that released like one 7-inch or had a single song on a comp and then broke up. But those were a dime a dozen, and many of them weren’t very good. In fact, most of them weren’t. However, Yes I’m Leaving bares little resemblance of the songwriting shortcomings that many of those did, while actually masking riffs and melody in a rather raw treble heavy production that acts as fuel being thrown on the fire here. The songs end up being louder and nastier sounding as a result, probably giving Nothing a bit of a noisier side to it than they may have intended. However, it certainly works in their favor, at least to me. I would assume fans of post-hardcore/grunge type stuff that tends to blur the line into noise-rock would be wise in giving this a listen, especially since as of right now it’s a name your own price download on Bandcamp.

I don’t think anyone believes what I say any more. Midway through last year I swore I’d kill myself if I had to listen to another garage record and yet I keep reviewing them here. Augghh, I still might do it… Fortunately there are folks out there trying out interesting interpretations on that very tired formula. Yes I’m Leaving are a band that claim to mix up grunge, post punk, hardcore and shoegaze. They don’t even use the word garage but other people do when they talk about them. Oh well, they’re certainly gritty enough, but the good thing is they’ve got the messiness of grunge (and they seem to like to wear a lot of flannel shirts), the cold structure and manic quality of post punk, the brutal simplicity of (old, New York) hardcore and not always but sometimes, the tidalwave of guitar noise that gets them the shoegaze tick of approval. This, their second record can be a punishing listen, but it is also rewarding and not so punishing that it should restrict its appreciation exclusively to fans of ‘heavy’ music. I reckon they have the same sort of broad based appeal as a band like Shellac or The Jesus Lizard. It’s great to see that Tenzenmen think so too. Tenzenmen, if you haven’t run across them before, are an interesting label – their main stock in trade is bringing asian, specifically mainland Chinese indie and artrock to the ears of Australian audiences, which is cool in itself, but every now and then they’ll find an Aussie band they really like, such as Brisbane post-rockers Nikko and Yes, I’m Leaving and give them a home. Give Yes, I’m Leaving a go and I hope you’ll find there’s space in your heart for them too. The current single is literally called Untitled and it’s a bit of a banger, but I think I like the album’s title track quite a lot, especially because it has some of that shoegaze thunder I was talking about before.

- Chris Cobcroft.

Auckland noise trio God Bows To Math are going to be heading over to our sunny shores in April and Tenzenmen have been so good as to release their brand new debut, ahead of that. If noise isn’t a specific enough label for what you can expect, the knowledgeable amongst you may recognise their name from an old song by the Minutemen. So you can sling a bit of hardcore and postpunk (and presumably an ability to tour on a shoestring budget) into the God Bows To Math mix. Within that they like to shift things up quite a bit, slapping elements of post punk’s repetitive discipline with loose and messy hardcore. I think the latter is the bit which wins out on this record. Despite the variety of tempos and rhythmic structures, everything feels thrown together with rough abandon and the band have gone for a production sound they describe as ‘suitably rough’. I think the band chose their name more for its humour than any particularly great dediction to precise execution. It’s possibly just a bit too messy, sometimes. The post punk elements could be that much more exciting if the rhythm were tightened up just a smidge. Still, it’s an intriguing record, with an arty admixture of (comparatively) pleasant melody and smashing dissonance, complex structures and punky mess. The track Slow Decline has been getting about on the internet and it’ll give you the right idea with its post punk urgency and exhausted sounding vocals surging toward hardcore explosions. I’d rather play the delightfully titled Yr Kids Aren’t Special But I am, a largely instrumental track that builds up like post-rock taken to hardcore extremes. Don’t know if you’ll be able to hear it on the net, but I’ll certainly give it a go on the radio for your listening terror, er, pleasure, I mean pleasure.

- Chris Cobcroft.

Stuff that I looked into online about these guys claims that they play alt-country, but I don’t see it. In my mind, this is a really good rock’n’roll record. It sounds like a twangier, good-humored version of the sound of Tim-era Replacements, but without the bitterness and muted sorrow. At five songs, this was far too short for me. I felt cheated by the brevity so I’m looking forward to hearing more from these guys. Well done, lads!
–The Lord Kveldulfr

New Zealand noise rockers bow to those who came before them.

With a name derived from The Minutemen’s magnum opus Double Nickles On The Dime, it’s safe to assume the New Zealand noise rock trio are pretty well acquainted with the oeuvre of the San Pedro econo-punk legends, and it’s entirely fitting that the band would take a name from an album where The Minutemen exclaim ‘Please Don’t Be Gentle With Me’. Drawing immediate comparisons to the catalogues of record labels like Touch & Go and Amphetamine Reptile, on their self-titled record God Bows To Math explore the limits of atonality amidst a pulsing current of feedback. For the most part, it is composed rather than caustic, and while it’s not an easy listen, it’s well worth the attempt. The record never ventures into a Big Black-styled screed of ugliness, but on tracks like the almost entirely instrumental Yr Kids Aren’t Special But I Am, it certainly toes the line. Mixed quietly so the moments of complete distortion are more dynamic, or at least more grating to the listener, when the record wants to make you pay attention, it can. Slower, more melodic numbers on the album, like the droning Sixty Degrees Of Separation, feel like a genial break from the album’s squalls of disgruntled fuzz, but then they’re followed up by efforts such as Details On How To Get Doncab On Your License Plate, where sinewy guitar strains allude to something rather sinister. It’s this focus on dynamics that makes God Bows To Math a damn arresting album.