September 4, 2010
Controversy is a light that will never go out…

Oh Morrissey, you sly, irreverent old coot. Again with the press tickling subversiveness to stoke up the word counts in your favour and fire up the defenders of free speech and multiculturalism alike. Never one to shy from the limelight are you?

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August 21, 2010
You don’t listen to REAL Screamo! part 2.5: now with added updates

The oceanic lapse in maintaining this almost-a-feature may have lead some to believe I’d given up listening to ‘real’ screamo anymore, or that perhaps i’d lost the use of my fingers, ears or mind due to a terminally atrocious, pick ‘n’ mix medical emergency of disastrous defects, diseases and near-deaths.

Facts are that no graves have appeared above my bed, breath flows through my lungs and my body displays no visible signs of rot or decay, which is a pleasant surprise.

The hideous truth? I’m not qualified to sit on some perch and spout band name diktats like some all knowing musical Napoleon. That was never my aim or motivation and yet the format of my previous two posts under this bannered pseudonym would very much suggest otherwise.

Having bricked myself in under a title with no apparent room for manoeuvring, I find myself somewhat restricted. Writing about such a non-specific, highly mutable genre with a misleadingly specific label for a header is never going to do, is it?

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August 13, 2010
House Vs Hurricane - Perspectives (Dead Press review)

House Vs. Hurricane need you to buy this album. Forget pirating, borrowing and ripping from a friend’s CD or any other method that doesn’t involve your cold, hard cash ringing through the Austrailian six piece’s collective bank account. Mind you, they’re not after some inflated sales figures or a dollar sign confirmation that they’re not wasting their time, they just desperately need the pennies to at least rent the trial version for a new synth sound. For a band constantly placing their keys at centre stage, they’ve somehow forgotten to invest in anything other than what sounds like a flimsy, plastic keyboard the Early Learning Centre’s music section would be embarrassed to offer up for sale.

Claiming their music as “progressive post-hardcore” and “cinematic hardcore”, House Vs. Hurricane bumble out a sound that combines the worst parts of From Autumn To AshesEnter Shikari and Chiodos that is as exciting as it is representative of the prefixed sub-genre they claim to belong. There is nothing on offer here that isn’t shot through absolutely every other below-par “post-hardcore” band apart from an even blander sense of self-convinced satisfaction in their homogenised, cul-de-sac songs.

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July 28, 2010
Antares - L’esprit de L’escalier (Dead Press EP review)

The first sixty-nine seconds of l’esprit de l’escalier are the blood clot before the brain haemorrhage. Try to stand in its way for the following 15 minutes and you’ll be ripped to shreds. This is progressive hardcore at its sharpest with jaw dropping guitar work, snap wristed, bone blast drumming and the furious vocal cluster bombs of lead singer Steve Watts. This is no tech demo. You won’t be touching yourself to the sound of some self indulgent, poodle haired guitar heroics. Dig your nails in deep and hold on tight. You won’t have the lungs left to admire the scenery.

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July 7, 2010
Throats - Throats (Dead Press EP review)

Throats’ latest self-titled EP is a difficult beast to judge. It does so much right in terms of angry, raging noise making and apparent teeth ripping brutality yet there is something a miss at the heart of all the commotion. The windmilling elephant in the room is Converge’s No Heroes, an album which was surely a massive influence on this 17 minute six track bombshell. Along with the frantic screams, flesh stripping beats and howling guitar reliefs, the doom laden, overhanging darkness that fills every facet of this release marks the EP as a child of its father.

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July 2, 2010
Pulled Apart By Horses - S/T (Leeds Scenester review)

Pulled Apart By Horses’ main strength lies in the energy and impact of their ferocious live performances. Translating such feral energies from the stage and into the studio is an infamously tricky task and after being tipped by almost everyone everywhere to do something rather huge in the year 2010, their self-titled debut lands as one of the most hotly anticipated releases of the year. Can it live up to the hype?

Its got plenty of rough edges but a few scuffed battle scars are the kind of characterful flaws that gives albums some oxygen to breath. A Pulled Apart By Horses show is messy, sweaty and a whole lot of fun and it wouldn’t have felt right locking these songs up in a heavily produced, air tight padded cell.

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July 2, 2010
Pulled Apart By Horses - S/T (Dead Press review)

After building a fearsome reputation on the back of their bruising and brilliant live performances, Pulled Apart By Horses release their self-titled debut full length onto an expectant world in the hopes of ripping a big, beautiful hole out of 2010’s summer.

We begin with Back To The Fuck Yeah as it patters into life. Its an odd choice for an opener that doesn’t quite connect until the chorus kicks in. Once it drops however its a struggle to stop yourself being sucked into its stomping, scuzzy charge into lightspeed. Its the sound of party crasher recollections; of vomit ridden t-shirts telling tales of epic adventures and hazy memories from nights gone by. The scene is set for an album made for the summer months’ late nights to get up to no good with.

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July 2, 2010
Pulled Apart By Horses - Brudenell Social Club - 19th June (Leeds Scenester)

Back in Leeds once again, and on the home straight of their latest UK tour, Pulled Apart By Horses skid across the Brudenell finish line to launch their freshly pressed self-titled album with the help of a few friends.

Blacklisters hit the stage like a nail bomb. Their gritty, droning hardcore oozes with the bloody juices of Daughters’ groaning discords, Converge’s visceral intensity, the fury of early Glassjaw and the whip lash dramatics of pageninetynine. Howling over this cacophony of prime cut carnage, the Rollins-esque screams of a man possessed; stalking across the front row of the crowd with his barking, one man mic assault. A stunning set of scalpel witted hardcore blessed with a brooding intelligence to match its feral, bone-breaking rages.

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July 2, 2010
Pulled Apart By Horses - Brudenell Social Club - 19th June (Dead Press live review)

Leeds: the home straight on Pulled Apart By Horses’ latest sprint of shows across the country. This wasn’t any old homecoming however. This was to be the launch of their brand spanking new debut self-titled and, with the help of a few friends, the Brudenell’s favourite adopted sons aimed to throw one hell of a prodigal’s party to celebrate.

First up were Blacklisters, the result of Daughter’s blistering noisecore, the spleen slicing angst of early Glassjaw and the venom and intensity of Converge thrown into a mincer and fired down the throat of frontman, Billy. A razor sharp display of quick witted, broodingly smart hardcore built on brains and brawn.

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June 23, 2010
La Dispute - The Well, Leeds - 21st June (Dead Press live review)

The Leeds stop of La Dispute’s short stay in the UK almost never happened. Salvation came with a venue change from Royal Park Cellars to The Well saving the band’s only northern date.

Due to technical difficulties with the guest list, the events of Curses’ set are a mystery. As you can only review what you’ve actually seen, I can only describe their set as a live rendition of their songs, played at volume to an audience within a room. Check out their myspace or head down to a future show to see Curses; the band that got away.

Second on were We’ll Die Smiling who took to the stage looking to vindicate much of the growing local hype surrounding them. Unfortunately, their set was an incoherent mess. Each song sounded as though it had been written with an old, jerking lottery machine filled with screamo cliches rather than any clear ideas, thoughtful structure or flow. Their efforts lacked any sense of direction or intention with any possible meaning lost in a sloppy, shapeless smudge of hap-hazard banality. On the vocal front, their whimpering and whining down the microphone sounded more like a stubbed toe rather than anything meaningful. Tonight, We’ll Die Smiling, sounded like kind of band that give their attempted genre a bad name, sounding exactly how a populist tabloid pastiche of screamo might. Theirs was a set lacking in intelligence, meaning or thought.

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