Last Week's Trend is Now Passé (part 3): Toxic Waste / Stalag 17 "The truth will be heard' split 12'' Ep ,1985

I don't know if you have noticed yet, it depends on how perceptive you are, but it would not be an overstatement to venture that, here, at Terminal Sound Nuisance's international headquarters, we could be described as being rather fond of records. Not just the music, but also the record, apprehended as a contextualised subcultural artifact telling its own story, while at the same time being part of many broader narratives related to a specific time and place.

I can vividly recollect how, when and where I got this particular piece of wax, the Toxic Waste/Stalag 17 split 12'' Ep, as it was a very lucky pick, one that, I now realize, had a lot to do with the locals's relative ignorance of anarchopunk. The happy event took place in 2013 at a punk festival in Paris where a few historical anarcho bands were playing (The Mob, The System or Hagar the Womb were on the bill). Being a good friend of the organizer, I was quickly told that Roy Wallace was present and that he had brought some 80's records he had found in a box in his attic. I was aware that beside being responsible for the very good punk documentaries Amebix - Risen and of course The Day the Country Died, the man had played in Toxic Waste so there was, after all, a small but credible chance that original copies of vintage Belfast anarchopunk would be floating around. I remember the record box to be rather small and there was a light emerging from it, as if it were cradling a godlike entity. I immediately spotted the grail, this old and worn out copy of the split (as if water-damaged or something) which I ruthlessly grabbed, my hands acting quicker than my brain, as if by reflex, at the speed of a crocodile surprise attack (that's what bewildered witnesses said in awe afterwards). I just could not believe how lucky I was. It was fate and miracles did happen after all. A near mint copy of the fantastic Toxik Ephex's Nobby Porthole Lp also ended up in my welcoming lap causing me to hyperventilate a little and I know full well that a third pick of that order would have probably sent me to the nearest hospital, if not directly to the morgue. I would have died happy, mind you. And because they were offered by a noble punk who still believes in anarchopunk decency, the two records were sold at their original prices with no inflation or speculation whatsoever. For once, I did not pay more than the "pay no more" tag which felt like an exhilarating victory and like I was back in the 80's and not just an easy prey for speculating wankers. Ebay could fuck right off. It was a great day indeed.

Although Toxic Waste was never a "famous" punk band outside of Belfast, my mates and I listened to them a lot in the early 00's as I owned the split cd with Bleeding Rectum which I bought in 2003 at Out of Step Records, a brilliant record store in Leeds that I visited several times. I think I bought the cd because it had the Active Distribution logo and I really liked what they stood for, although I could not figure out why they would help distribute a band called Bleeding Rectum, a goregrind name for a non-grindcore band that puzzled me. Punk works in mysterious ways. But anyway, I took the cd home and everyone loved it, TW sounded better than DIRT and their radical lyrics about life and politics in Northern Ireland really appealed to us. We were already fond of Ulster bands like Stiff Little Fingers, The Outcasts or The Defects, but this was a Belfast anarchopunk band singing "Burn your fucking flags" in the 80's and that took courage and we admired them very much for that, even twenty years later. Although I don't remember us ever listening to the 21 (!) Bleeding Rectum songs at the time (we did giggle a bit when mentioning the name to be honest), we played the TW songs so often that we considered starting a band that sounded similar, dual vocals anarchopunk with grit and tunes. Alas, the year was now 2005 and we ended up playing rough metallic neocrust like everyone and their mother at the time. Hindsight sucks.

The early Belfast punk scene has been well documented and I strongly recommend the documentary Made in Belfast and the book It Makes you Want to Spit, and obviously The Day the Country Died if you want to see what Toxic Waste and Stalag 17 have to say about their experience as young anarchopunks in the 80's. Context is everything and I suppose growing up in such a violent, polarised, sectarian environment, if not a warzone, made punk so much more than just a look or a genre, it was a liberation and sung in the Northern Irish context, many words took on a different, stronger, more radical meaning. I suggest you read the many testimonies from far more eloquent people than I with actual first-hand experiences of the events, and I am now going to proceed to The Truth will be Heard's content. It was the second recording of TW, the first one being the Unite to Resist demo tape, recorded in 1983 with the first lineup, a song off which, "Good morning", was included on Mortarhate's We don't Want Your Fucking War compilation Lp. The band then moved from Newtownards to Belfast, with Roy from Wardance replacing Dane on male vocals. Following a UK tour with Conflict in 1984, the band was offered to record a split that would be released on Mortarhate. The three TW songs were recorded in a proper BBC studio in Newtownards and therefore the sound is unusually clear for an anarchopunk records. Whereas many anarcho recordings at the time had a rather raw and direct sound (which they both suffered and benefited from), TW's is - excessively? - clean and probably more suitable for a cheery pop-rock act than a juvenile pissed punk band. As a result, these three songs are quite unique in that they are objectively overproduced but still remain in the department of snotty straight-forward punk anthems, with the professional production highlighting rather than hiding the mandatory sloppy bits and the heartful amateurishness (the distorted bass sound is naively overwhelming for instance). That's the thing with a clean sound, you can hear everything with clarity, both the good and the, hum, not so good.

I absolutely love these songs though and how passionate, urgent and incendiary they sound in spite of the production. There was no shortage of reasons to feel angry and frusrated and you can easily tell that TW were outraged at the injustices, the state oppression, the narrow-mindedness, the brutality, the bloody polarisation that were part of the Northern Irish context, and this concentration of anger is reflected in the music's teenage urgency. Rephrasing TW's lyrics would not make much sense but they are certainly more clever than those of your average 80's British punk band (but then, I suppose one had to grow up fast in such a charged context). TW were not just a direct punk band though as they included many tuneful arrangements in the songs, from the melodic poppy introduction to "Traditionally yours", the torturous, slow-paced, stomping introduction to "Burn all flags", to the epic conclusion with spoken words to "Song for Britain", there are enough catchy hooks to remind you that 80's Ulster punk was essentially and memorably tuneful while not wandering too far from the classic formula. It's got both spikes and tunes. The dual male and female vocals work perfectly together as they achieve the right balance between snotty aggression and poignant hopefulness. I would personally argue that very few bands have done this type of trade-off anarcho vocals better than TW. Because of the mutual history between the two bands, the comparison with DIRT is very common and quite sensible. I would personally also send invites to Alternative, early Conflict and maybe The Partisans, but with an Ulster flair.

Following this split, TW recorded four songs for a split with Stalag 17 (again) and Asylum for the We will be Free Lp released in 1986 on Warzone Records. This time with a proper, more balanced production, these new songs sounded even better. Absolutely wicked stuff. TW then gradually disintegrated, with Roy moving to London and recording songs with Deno from DIRT on vocals that would appear on the Belfast Lp in 1987 that also included the TW songs from the two former splits and Marty forming the mighty Pink Turds In Space (the two would reunite in Bleeding Rectum, hence the cd reissue with the two bands). The band has reformed sporadically in the 90's and even in the mid 00's if memory serves (does it?).

Trigger warning: the lyrics are Miltonian long.

A part of me - the indecorous one - would love to tell you that the other side of the split is just not that good, that it borders on the average and is thus not worth a maniacal rant on my part, especially since it is sunday, after all, and I could rather take a long walk and try to catch the coronavirus in order to skip work instead of educating the unwashed masses about the greatness of mid-80's Belfast anarchopunk. But who am I fooling, really? You and I know full well that we are both in for an epic love letter to Stalag 17. Again, I strongly advise you peruse the chapter devoted to them in The Day the Country Died in order to grasp the context from which they emerged. Like TW, S17 were very active in the Warzone collective and helped open Giro's, a self-run social centre in 1986 that played a crucial role in Belfast (full story here) and in the collective punk memory, TW and S17 remain the two most iconic 80's anarchopunk bands from Belfast, who conveniently shared two records as well. So if you ever end up having to speak in public about anarchopunk in Northern Ireland, just sternly declaim the lyrics of "Burn your flags" and "Forgotten victims' and you should be alright.

Like TW, S17 (I am really doing my best not to think about East 17 whenever I type the abbreviation) had a song on a Mortarhate sampler, 1984's We don't Want your Fucking War!, but I don't think I heard them until the release of the Anti-Society compilation cd in 2006, and although it would be erroneous to hail the song "Doomsday machine" as an undying S17 anthem, it still showcased one element that immediately comes to mind when someone mentions the band: Petesy's vocals, and more particularly their particular tone and flow, neither really sung nor really spoken, and fast-paced. I must have downloaded whatever I could find afterwards and instantly fell head over heels when I got to listen to their side of The Truth will be Heard. The opening number "Party talk" aptly demonstrated what the band could do. Starting with an extract from a political speech that has Thatcher spewing Tory propaganda about Ulster and denying the brutality of Britain's colonial rule, the listener is quickly aware that some serious political anger is going to be unleashed. The song itself is a rather raw (especially compared to TW's side!) and mid-paced anarchopunk song that ticks the correct boxes in terms of catchiness, intensity and moodiness, but it is the vocal style that turns a rather classic piece into something different. The singer almost never stops, delivering a politically-charged speech about the parties in power with that sort of vocal inbetweenness that characterised Petesy's work (although I would venture that it came naturally to him and he just had a lot to say in less than three minutes). It is indisputably a pulchritudinous anarchopunk song (right?) but the next one, the gloriously epic "Forgotten victims", really takes the cake.

Anarchopunk being after all, for the most part, punk-rock, the average length of an anarcho song is about three minutes. Of course, there are many exceptions and anarchopunk was fortunately not as generic and restrictive as the so-called UK82 school, but still, seven minutes long songs were not exactly the norm in 1985 for any punk band. And yet, S17 did exactly that with "Forgotten victims". Whereas Chumbawamba also tried to write longer songs by adding a more narrative aspect and by diversifying the song structures, S17 did not change its recipe at all. Again, I feel like they had too much to say in just a couple of minutes so they basically played the song twice in a row. And not only did it work, since the listener is never bored, but you could argue that the song's insistence and emphasis reflect the sum of emotions and hardships that living in wartorn sectarian Belfast generate in a teenager's heart. "Forgotten victims" is basically an alternation between a heavy and rather dark anarcho tribal beat and a faster, intense but tuneful moment with, once again, an unstoppable vocalist speaking out against oppression (there are no less than thirteen stanzas to the song). It must be one of my favourite anarchopunk tune of the era, despite its odd construction (the end is quite abrupt), and I cannot think of many contemporaries that were able to convey so vividly such a sense of outrage, hope and despair, in just one sloppy song. For all its flaws, it is a genuine anarchopunk anthem that gives me the goosebumps every time I play it. As I said, the vocals really set S17 apart and make the band instantly recognisable, although the music can be described as classically trained anarchopunk, reminiscent of Flux of Pink Indians, The System or Subhumans.

With a different lineup S17 went on to record a song for the You are not Alone compilation Ep on Words of Warning in 1986 (that was reviewed here four years ago almost to the day), two demos (And all the Birdies Sang Fuck this for a Lark and Erection 87) and contribute five punktastic gems to the We will be Free split Lp with Asylum and Toxic Waste. The new lineup made S17 tighter, harder-hitting, but also more tuneful and diverse, maybe not unlike the nascent wave of melodic hardcore punk with bands like Depraved or Hex. The band dissolved in 1987 and Petesy formed the brilliant FUAL with Crispo from Crude & Snyde.

A poster? What poster???

It is high time TW and S17 get properly reissued since their materials are quite hard to find and above all preposterously expensive. The Truth will be Heard was a cojoint release between Mortarhate and Warzone Records and my copy contained a political pamphlet entitled Divided Conquered and Shit Upon... or Nearly edited by the Warzone collective, a very interesting read that epitomised what anarchopunk was about in Northern Ireland. It is more than just music so read it. 

The punk will be heard

Last Week's Trend is Now Passé (part 2): Lost Cherrees "Unwanted Children" 12'' Ep, 1985

Was Lost Cherrees' catchy, upbeat poppiness the cause of their demise in the mid 80's? Maybe a more relevant formulation would be: were they too poppy for their contemporary punk audience? I mean, they were probably the most melodic band released on Mortarhate, not a meaningless achievement since the label also released materials from Hagar the Womb and Flowers in the Dustbin. Apparently, Unwanted Children barely made it to the indie charts upon its release in september, 1985, whereas All Part of Growing Up, their glorious album released but ten months prior, was a genuine success - on a punk scale of course - and there is a general consensus that this Lp is a classic anarchopunk album, worthy of inclusion in the grand anarcho canon (and no, I am afraid it is not calculated with the number of views it has on youtube). In a parallel dimension, I could definitely envision LC becoming really popular because of Unwanted Children and attracting a more mainstream audience. Their subsequent 1987 album - let's call it Tears of a Mermaid - is a pop-punk masterpiece and a phenomenal commercial success. Mortarhate becomes so rich that Conflict can finally buy their own private anarcho-jet, the mighty ungovernable fly, which would result in a bloody feud with Iron Maiden in the following years. Meanwhile, with Sian back in the band and three women fronting it again, LC embark in a world tour and their anarcho-feminist stance triggers a global revolution and, after a bloody war against The Man, we finally get to live in peace and harmony forever and ever (except Conflict and Iron Maiden who are still bitterly fighting), eating organically grown veggies, managing our own lives and basically listening to Antisect all day, in a world free from Chumbawamba's a cappella album (there would have been no need to record it now that the world is one big hippie commune). But of course, LC split up shortly after the release of Unwanted Children, Conflict never got their jet and Chumba did do English Rebel Songs (which I have kinda grown to like, if I'm being honest) and became the ultimate anarchopop band. 

I first heard LC on A Compilation of Deleted Dialogue double cd which I bought in 2002 (I think). I remember being quite confused by the compilation (especially by The Apostles, Flowers in the Dustbin and Class War, bands whose punkness I struggled to give an accurate estimation of, a very troubling feeling indeed at a time such trifles mattered) and now that I am a sensibly wiser, but still rather intrepid punk, I realize that it was all but impossible to digest at that time. I remember being floored by Icons of Filth's two Ep's, because they sounded so bloody intense and pissed, and Lost Cherrees' A Man's Duty, A Woman's Place, because it had a warm, tuneful and dynamic quality but still sounded punky and raw. The Ep also displayed lyrics against sexism and since I was reading a lot about women's struggles and feminist theory, it definitely struck a chord. I have to concede that I have always disliked that reggae-tinged number though... Anyway, from that point on I started to consider bands like LC and DIRT (and of course Crass and Poison Girls) as epitomising 80's feminist anarchopunk and whenever someone would require a band that fits that specific description, I would proudly namedrop LC while gazing pensively at some imaginary horizon and trying to look tenebrous as hell. But then, it must have happened only twice. With the rise of the internet, the legacy of 80's punk bands has become quite arduous to assess with originally very obscure bands becoming as easily accessible as rather popular ones. This monstrous equalizing process can result in awkward, anachronistic claims and grotesque comparisons. LC however, just on the strength on All Part of Growing Up, can be legitimately seen as belonging to the vintage anarchopunk canon. If there were an Olympus with anarchopunk bands, LC would probably not make it to one of the twelve seats reserved to the major gods, but they would definitely be a powerful and gracious deity revered by mortals nonetheless.

The band is fairly well documented so I am not going to linger too long on their illustrious career. Like Political Asylum, LC were a second generation anarchopunk band that put out records between 1983 and 1985, a time when the original anarcho wave was grinding to a halt not without leaving in its glorious trail a new generation of anarchopunk bands that thrived to emulate the spirit and the music of their punk elders (a 23 year old punk was actually 53 in punk years at that time). It was anarcho-influenced anarchopunk and that makes a massive difference. Contrary to Political Asylum who were relatively isolated and thus only, but happily, did tapes before their first proper vinyl release in 1985, LC got to release three Ep's and one album in about two years and the Mortarhate connection implied that the records were well distributed and it insured a decent exposure to the band, without mentioning touring with Conflict, who were extremely popular at that time. What set LC apart from their numerous peers was their open feminist agenda and, for a short while, the presence of three female singers which allowed for some magic, epic harmonising and rather extravagant pop-oriented and postpunk songwriting, with tunefulness always strongly at the helm. This incredible trio behind the microphones combined with a solid sense of catchy songwriting turned a good, but rather classic anarchopunk band, into a memorably melodic punk bands with a combination of female vocals that had no equivalent at the time.

The Unwanted Children 12'' Ep was the last LC record of the 80's and the only one without Sian - who left to ride trains, play cricket and sing with Blyth Power - on vocals, leaving Debbie and Bev handling all the singing. This last Ep, recorded in 1985, is the band's formidably melodic epitaph, one that might have been too uplifting and poppy for the band's Mortarhate crowd. It is often said that "the punx" are a self-righteous, narrow-minded bunch who cannot handle change and see it as "selling out", and as a consequence they will still demand that a band play their faster sloppy songs off their old 4-track demo rather than a number from their brand new, well-crafted, progressive album that is supposed to broaden their audience (I can be that punk to be honest). In substance, that's pretty much what happened to LC and it was probably that depressing attitude that, in the end, prompted the split. Incidentally, the last live performance of LC in that decade took place in 1986 at the Mermaid in Birmingham, according to the band a particularly dispiriting and poorly attended gig that saw them played without motivation before a foul audience shouting "show us your tits" to the singers. Of course, only a few months later, the Mermaid would become one the focal points of the UK hardcore revolution, turning from a wretched place where anarchopunk goes to die to a legendary venue that played a major part in the rise of crust. It might be just a coincidence as the band had probably run its course by then and there were heavier, faster, harder bands in the mid-80's that were gaining momentum whereas the second wave of anarchopunk was starting to decline. In a world where storytelling has permeated all areas of our cultural life, it is temptingly easy to see symbols where it might only be sheer coincidence. The irony however still remains.

So what about Unwanted Children then? It is the most uplifting, triumphant, freshest swansong I can think of. The moodiness and melancholy present on the album are mostly gone as the songwriting focuses on dynamic and anthemic crispy pop-punk. The two singers sing their heart out and some chorus are so catchy that I can - almost - picture myself wearing a dayglo headband and doing aerobics listening to these cracking tunes (the last chorus to "Consider the challenge" is to die for). It is not difficult to see why some would find that lovely 12'' Ep too soft or even cheesy, but then if the thought of vintage dual-vocal female-fronted anarchopop disgusts you, you have probably knocked on the wrong door. In terms of references, the fun-loving Hagar the Womb - the closest comparison in the anarcho realms contemporary to LC - and the always extravagant Rubella Ballet do come to mind, though I would argue that LC were more dynamic and poppier. Unwanted Children is also not unlike the very tuneful Chin Chin from Switzerland, though the former were nowhere as political and I highly doubt LC had heard of Chin Chin (the opposite could be true however). Finally, one could make the claim that LC's dynamic blend of catchy tunes, pop-punk energy and politics, one that is propelled melodically by multiple female vocals, must have inspired important mid/late 80's UK punk bands like Dan or Joyce McKinney Experience in their songwriting. In any case, if you are looking for a quality punk record to play at your birthday party and make your merry guests dance, then this Ep could be a winner (let's face it, no one wants to dance to the early Doom demos as last year's party showed well enough). The only issue I have with this record - and it is a rather minor one that has more to do with my personal taste I suppose - is the presence of horns on the title song. Horns should be forbidden in punk music. In fact, I read somewhere that a country has already prohibited punk bands to use horns in their songs, so it is a first step. But they are not too distracting here, they just add another layer of cheesy poppiness where there was clearly no need for any. Oh well... Lyrically, the band had a lot to say with lyrics about poverty, depression, education, violence, social conditioning, they are much darker and angry than the melodic music or the very new-wave looking cover (not the record's strongest assets in my opinion but then the cover of the Lp was also memorable for the wrong reasons) would incite you to think, but then that's punk, innit? Unwanted Chidren was released on Mortarhate Records in late 1985 and you can find it on the 2012 reissues.

Unwanted Cherrees

Last Week's Trend is Now Passé (part 1): Political Asylum "Winter" Ep, 1985

It is hard to believe that it has been more than two months since my last proper review. To be honest, after Sonatas in D-Major, I felt drained, vapid, both uninspired and uninspiring. Of course, like any modern individual who believes in the performative power of virtual validation (the whole "like and be liked" paradigm) and actively seeks it, I was greatly confused by these feelings of self-doubt and insignificance. Why do I bother raving over proudly unoriginal d-beat bands or rough cavemen crust punk that actual cavemen would be likely to find a tad excessive? Does this existential scepticism and fear of irrelevance merely point to a coming mid-life crisis? If it is widely accepted that the average Joe, as he starts to get seriously bald, predictably buys a new flashy car to impress younger potential mates, then would getting some obscenely expensive Japanese punk records the equivalent for Western male punx who are reaching that same critical stage in life and thus have to wave goodbye to full on charged hair? I'm no sociologist but there could be some truth in this theory (it also works with obscure heavy metal and cheesy cold wave from the 80's obviously). 

Anyway, faced with the meaninglessness of life itself (oh yes, make no mistake, that is what has always been at stake), I decided to get back to basics for this first series of the year, and explore and revisit a couple of records and bands that, I feel, are underappreciated and you could say that this self-righteous, quixotic quest to promote and offer a critical insight about bands that our current superficial epoch unfairly ignores is at the core of Terminal Sound Nuisance, in that it makes feel somewhat useful and on the just side of History, a bit like a jedi but with a proper punk jacket instead of their hippie robe, although sucking hard at fighting and being shit scared of heights are rather unjedilike. 

So, basically, what I mean is that we should have a series about 80's anarchopunk from the British Isles, with a selection of 10 records that were all released between 1985 and 1989, a period that saw the decline of the anarchopunk movement and the rise of hardcore and crust in the UK. With the current renewed interest in the classic anarchopunk sound (although you could argue that the diversity of the movement renders such a concept irrelevant), the focus and attention have often been on the first half of the decade, and while I wholeheartedly enjoy seeing people get into classic '81/'84 bands, there is a relative indifference towards ulterior recordings, sometimes at the cost of overlooking genuine anarchopunk classics like Political Asylum's Winter.

It would be untrue to claim that Political Asylum were an obscure band back then and the mere fact that they were included on so many - usually homemade - compilation tapes in the 80's shows that they were a well-liked and rather popular band at the time, one that managed to sell 6000 copies (!) of their first demo tape, Fresh Hate. If Winter was PA's first proper record, they had recorded two demos before that, the aforementioned Fresh Hate in 1982 and the rather fantastic Valium for the Masses in 1984. It may look quite odd for a band to wait that long before releasing their first vinyl, especially at a time when anarchopunk was lively and at its top, and far lesser bands than PA got to have records under their belt. But then, if you manage to get your tapes around efficiently, tour a lot and get your message across, why bother doing a vinyl if you don't really need to (and I guess being young Scottish lads didn't exactly help either)? In our present day when more and more bands can release a full album before having even played ten gigs, the idea of taking one's time to put out a vinyl almost sounds blasphemous, but I suppose that many youthful anarcho bands of the time were just not as materialistic. Shame on them.

Despite the anarcho/UK82 trend that swept through the last decade and saw relatively confidential bands like Vex or The Mad Are Sane retrospectively gain a virtual cult status, PA, although one of the most important Scottish anarchopunk bands along with Oi Polloi and Alternative, are rarely discussed and, I suppose, seldom listened to (Valium for the Masses is not even on youtube, for that matter). At a time when self-proclaimed cool kids are prone to wear shirts from even the most obscure 80's anarcho bands, I have yet to see a PA shirt, a clear sign of a slight contemporary indifference toward the band. If they are a genuine classic anarchopunk band, PA never sounded like what we modernly reconstructed as "the classic anarcho sound". In fact, PA, with their overuse of vocal harmonies, their endless guitar solos, genuine prog rock moments and a folk influence, sounded like no other band and that's precisely what I loved about them. I remember being really confused the first time I heard them. I had ordered a cdr online and did not know what to expect as I was only aware that they were an anarchopunk band from the 80's and that was why I wanted to give them a go. I shall not palter with the truth and readily admit that the out of control technical solos almost killed me and in other circumstances would have had me burning the cd and calling for an exorcist, but there was a sense of melody, an incredible tunefulness and an intensity to the songs that compelled me to keep listening. Of course, they also had punkier songs that were easier to relate to (like "Disarm or die" of course), but the ones that really stuck were the moodier, darker ones. And I couldn't believe they just shamelessly ripped of a Black Flag line. I suppose it is the band's uniqueness that both made them quite popular at the time and rather unpopular nowadays as we always crave for comprehensible styles that can be pigeonholed, and while it makes sense to do so with the d-beat genre for instance, you cannot really do that with PA and with large fractions of the 80's anarchopunk world.    

I am not going to write about the band's history as they are well documented (their chapter in The Day the Country Died as well as the booklets to their cd reissues come highly recommended and showcase Ramsey's witty sense of humour). Suffice to say that Winter is one of my favourite anarchopunk Ep's of the 80's. It just has everything I look for in an anarcho record, it is angry and yet melodic, melancholy and yet strangely uplifting, the lyrics are political and sensible, the harmonies are perfect to sing along to it in the shower and I have even grown to like the epic solos. Winter may not really be classified as a punk-rock record nor is it a postpunk one, and I guess it effortlessly transcends genres without ever sounding artsy or even intentional. The song "Winter of our discontent", an obvious reference to the Winter of Discontent of the late 1970's, is a poignant antiwar ballad (I guess the term is somehow fitting) with plenty of harmonies and solos (the PA trademark) and an instantly recognizable opening. An absolute anthem that is authentically emotional. Ace. The next song, "Do they care", is a bouncy punk-rock number with a great vocals, a simple but highly catchy chorus and an eerie atmospheric moment toward the end. "System of war" is another beautiful, moving punk ballad that even the excessive use of solos cannot spoil. The folk element in the music can definitely be felt in the songwriting and in the ways PA conceptualized their two slower songs and there is an acoustic version of "Winter of our discontent" on 1992's How the West was Won 10'' which makes a lot of sense. The two issues I have with this Ep is the use of a drum machine (the cymbals were laid down afterwards) that sometimes sound a little unnatural and too mechanical and don't fit perfectly with the very organic and warm vibe of the songs, but I concede that it might make the Ep even more unique and different. My second issue is that Winter will always be the name of an Amebix record for me.   

Winter was recorded in early 1985 and released on Bristol-based Children of the Revolution Records, of which it was the fifth record (right between AOA's Who are they Trying to Con? and Potential Threat's Brainwashed). If you have never heard PA, today is your lucky day. Just imagine a fusion of Zounds, Chron Gen and Lack if Knowledge with a folk music vibe and a prog rock guitar player. Or maybe just listen to Winter and feel the unstoppable power of the harmonies. And sing along my friend, just siiiiiiiiiiiing.

  

Winter

Who Needs Wacky Titles Anyways!?! (part 5): Kronstadt Uprising "Part of the game" Ep, 1985

To wrap up this hopefully enjoyable little series that should feed everyone's nostalgia for the coming months, let's talk about an 80's punk band that is rarely discussed among punks of the brand new age, Kronstadt Uprising. And yet, what a cracking name they picked. I mean, it may sound a little corny in 2019 but back when they went for that moniker in 1981 (they were originally, and rather enigmatically, called The Bleeding Pyles so the change was for the best), I am sure it sounded quite fresh in the punk scene and it might have enticed many teenagers to read about the actual Kronstadt uprising (me included, when I picked their cd discography in the early 00's) and dream about being a hero of the anarchist revolution or, at least, about finding as cool a name for a punk band.

I first came across KU when I bought a second-hand copy of the aforementioned cd Insurrection that Overground Records released in 2000. I had never heard of the band before but I already owned the Not so Brave Flux of Pink Indians' cd (that I incidentally got from the very same second-hand record store) and was able to identify the typically anarchopunk layout so I went for it, confident that it would be kinda similar to Flux. Of course, I was mostly wrong and a little disappointed since the KU cd could be defined as a collection of mostly rock'n'roll-sounding punk songs that sounded nothing like what a charmingly naive teenager was entitled to expect from a band marketed as "anarchopunk". I was not completely distressed though, because Insurrection still included the fantastic The Unknown Revolution Ep, released on Spiderleg (the label of Flux) in 1983 and I absolutely loved this Ep, and still do. I suppose the people who still listen to the band see that Ep as the band's defining moment, and rightly so. It is not a ground-breaking record but it certainly encapsulates the angry anarchopunk sound of the time and remains a minor classic of the genre, reminiscent of DIRT, Riot/Clone or early Conflict, with particularly raspy and pissed vocals. If you were asked to play a typical anarcho record of the period, picking The Unknown Revolution would be a relevant move, as it is neither too obscure nor too obvious and it would make you look sophisticated but not snobbish (and it just got reissued on vinyl). You basically cannot lose. Choosing their second Ep, Part of the Game, however, would not work as well and the purpose of this post is to keep you from making an insidious mistake that could cost you your reputation and the respect from your peers. Having perfect punk tastes is a constant struggle and I am glad I can help you achieve it. 

So KU were from Southend-on-Sea, in Essex (down South), like The Synix, with whom they punctually shared a few members throughout the years. Formed in 1981, they actually kept playing until 1987, although they went through a year-long hiatus and even a split and their last incarnation only included founding member and soul of the band, Steve (the drummer). The band's career is very well-documented in the booklet of the retrospective cd, in Burning Britain and even online, on the very interesting and comprehensive website about Southend Punk that you can check here (how wonderful, you won't even have to flip through actual pages), so I won't delve too much into the band's history here. 

A metaphor of the rock'n'roll circus

So why write about Part of the Game then? It sounds nothing like KU's first Ep and what modern listeners have come to associate anarchopunk with. From 1984 to their demise, the band took a decidedly rock'n'roll path that owed a lot to late 70's punk-rock and avowedly to Johnny Thunders. It is common knowledge that many early 80's punk bands tried to sound different when they reached the crucial stage of the mid/late 80's and, more often than not, it was disastrous and I don't need to name any band because that would just be a bit mean. However, I have always felt that KU's change of sound was, if not for the better, at least a very solid one. The band stuck to the DIY punk ethos of their anarchopunk roots, the songwriting was never lazy and they never went for goofy lyrics. If their new sound (and indeed, their new look) was rock'n'roll-oriented and even though some of their later songs are too much so for my own liking (we all have our limitations), there are some undeniable hits in KU's late catalogue and the two songs included on their '85 Ep, "Part of the game" and especially "The horsemen", are very strong songs. 

Backed by an energetic sound that stresses the raw aggression of the songwriting, these thick mid-paced numbers have a rather dark and gloomy vibe that make them standout from generic '77 revival punk. The vocals are tuneful of course but remain quite raucous and some bits on the drums and guitars are there to remind you that this is still a punk record. There is something threatening and almost macabre in KU's music and if the verses are quite typically rock'n'roll, the chorus have an epic and lugubrious catchiness that I find very enticing (the haunting backing chorus on "The horsemen" further emphasize that element). It sounds a bit like a blend between The Underdogs, The Damned and The Heartbreakers but recorded in a graveyard. It's not depressing by any means, but the presence of several grim reapers on the foldout cover is a good indication of the record's mood (and so is the picture of the band posing in full on rockers regalia). I suppose you could argue that Part of the Game is not far from the death-rock genre, but my expertise in this domain is too limited for me to make such a claim. The recording session also included a third song, "Live for today", that is just as good and can be found on the cd. 

Typically the kind of records that makes you want to wear shades.

Part of the game

    

Summer comps not summer camps (part 3): "Words Worth Shouting" compilation Lp, 1985

The commencement of the blog, sometime in the late 18th century, coincided with me purchasing a derelict castle in the old French countryside. After some much needed repairs and the addition of a massive crocodile pond to repel marauders - mostly apolitical skinheads at that time - I eventually felt safe enough to move my record collection into the new premises and started to put my disorganized thoughts to paper, that is when I was not battling away against rival punk tribes (like the Street Punx for instance, who, despite their ferocious look, were too concerned about their haircut being right on to make for great opponents). But anyway, a reclusive life behind thick stone walls has made me completely unaware of the passing of seasons and the very notion of it "being sunny outside" sounds like a conceptual oddity to me.   

Which takes me to this crucial point. Summer might be officially almost over but I am still not done with my delightful compilations so here we go again with vintage compilations Lp that you would have loved to listen to while you were posing hard in Berlin or Barcelona (thankfully, my astrologist told me that there would also be a summer next year).

Today let's have a little conversation about Words Worth Shouting, a compilation released in 1985 on Radical Change, a Norwich-based label run by the Disrupters that, beside records from their own band, also put out materials from Icon AD, Destructors, Self-Abuse and the mighty Revulsion. Of course, I love the content of the compilation (if I did not I would be watching football with the lads right now instead of staring numbly at a computer screen) and I will be raving about it in due time but first I would like to draw your precious attention to how it looks. The record cover was the work of a certain Mid, then the guitar player for a young unknown Norwich band called Deviated Instinct. One might infer that the local connection with the Disrupters (the Lp was a benefit for Norwich hunt sabs) was the reason for the inclusion of Deviated Instinct on the Lp and for Mid drawing the cover. Although you could say that it is not, technically speaking, his most stunning and polished work, it is interesting to see that it already included a lot of what would become trademarks of crust aesthetics: threatening crows, reapers, grinning skulls, nuclear weapons, allegories of ecological apocalypse and so forth. This drawing was also - I think - his first contribution to a proper record (though the first DI demo must have seen the light of day a little before) and I, for one, cannot fail to be impressed by it. Protocrust art? Maybe I am putting too much significance into it but the composition is striking in its "crustness" and the variations around it have been innumerous during the 30 years that followed. And I just love the signature with the early DI heart logo. Good cheesy.

The backcover won't probably ring a bell unless you are familiar with French anarchopunk. It was drawn by Tapage, from Paris, in the very different but typical style of his (usually punx engaging in subversive activities) and if you must know, he still draws many handouts to this day and has been doing so for as long as anyone can remember. At that time he was following Haine Brigade on tour and, since they also appeared on the compilation, he told me that's how he ended up doing some artwork for it. If anything, this will tell you that old punks really never die, especially when they have a soft spot for communards.

But let's get to the text. The brilliantly named Words Worth Shouting includes 13 bands, 11 from England, 1 from France and 1 from West Germany. The opening band is Contempt, from Wolverhampton. I suppose most of you will be familiar with them because Contempt were quite active and prolific in the 90's. My first encounter with the band was through the Shouting the Odds 1997 Lp which I rate as the band's most memorable work (and even as one of the best UK anarchopunk records from the 90's). That Lp had catchy singalong tunes reminiscent of proto oi bands like Sham 69, Menace or the Rejects but with serious anarchopunk lyrics with a working-class twist. It sounded pissed and genuine and I played that Lp a lot when I bought it. Of course, the song "Take an animal's view" was recorded in 1985 with a different lineup made up of people from Vendetta, 7th Plague and Pulex Irritans (the Aristocrap Ep basically), but you actually can find a better recorded version of it on Shouting the Odds so that when I first played the compilation I instantly felt comfy and, well, at home. The sound is a little thin (it was Contempt's first appearance on a record) but the angry singalong tunes are here. The martial beat accompanying the "Smash the hunt up" shouts at the beginning always get me. This is a perfect example of solid, direct, angry old-school punk-rock enhanced with melodic singalongs, like a cross between Demob and Riot/Clone. That song will make you want to smash things with grace.

Next up are Axe Thrasher, an obscure band from Sleaford with a rather unfortunate name. I mean, just google "axe thrasher" and you'll end up watching embarrassing videos of spotty teenagers playing terrible thrash metal for the rest of your life. As for Sleaford itself, I know nothing about it but the newspapers Sleaford Today ran an article entitled "Yobs Leave Open Manhole" a few days ago so it is that kind of place apparently. As for the band, their song "Axe thrasher" (obviously) was their sole vinyl appearance and it sounds like a sloppier, fast and punky version of Onslaught or GBH. Not bad and certainly pogoable.

After these two minutes of thrashy punk-rock come Prem Nick (from the Disrupters) doing some spooky spoken words about the royal family. Typical anarcho stuff, very British and the ideal introduction to the Disrupters themselves and their song "Dead in the head". You know how much I love the band (right?) and the year 1985 saw the band at its peak when they released the great Alive in the Electric Chair (my ears tell me that "Dead in the head" was also recorded during one of these sessions). Dark, aggressive, intense mid-paced punk-rock with upfront threatening vocals and some catchy guitar leads that will make the song stick in your head for the rest of the day. Their sound was somewhere between The System, The Underdogs, Blitz and Kronstadt Uprising, both familiar and yet memorable. This is one of their best songs, to be sure. 

Euthanasie from Freiburg (not far from the French border) are up next with the song "Mord ohne Ende" (meaning "Murder without an end"). A very interesting band indeed and possibly, along with Enola Gay and Anti-Heroes, the closest example of a German take on UK anarchopunk in the 80's. I don't dislike deutschpunk but I am not crazy about it and if I do genuinely enjoy some bands that would fall under that umbrella (like Chaos Z, Vorkriegsphase, The Targets, Bluttat...), a lot of it leave me rather unimpressed (but then, I am hardly the expert so ignorance could also be a reason). However, Euthanasie were musically much closer to gothy postpunk than pogo-inducing noise, which in the country of X-Mal Deutschland makes sense. The sound is not too good but the song is actually great. Sincere anarcho postpunk with a melancholy enhanced by the use of the German language, a hopeless mood, somber guitar tunes and the obligatory spoken words in introduction. If Vex, Blood Robots and The Deformed had had a baby in Germany, it would have sounded like Euthanasie and would have been preparing for the revolution in its crib. The band released two tapes during its existence, Unsere Welt, eine andere Welt and The War to End all Wars which also included "Mord ohne Ende". Some recordings of the band were reissued on Lp in 2010 by Looney Tunes but I cannot say the record got a lot of attention (which is surprising since everyone and their mother claim to be into "postpunk"). Oh well...


Next up are Rotten Corpses, a band I know absolutely nothing about. The internet is quiet on the matter and there is no information about them on the inserts (unless I am missing a sheet?). With a name like that, you would expect teenagers playing some kind of metal punk hybrid or some sloppy anarchopunk but you would be wrong. The song "The promise" is quite tuneful, not exactly memorable, but it gets the feet tapping. Not far, in terms of sound, from the most melodic anarcho bands - although it is hard to be categorical from just the one song - but most of all, "The promise" sounds too much like a cheaper version of "Shuffling souls" from The Mob for its own good... But after all, why not. Referential reworking is intellectually comforting and there are worse bands to nick a riff from, right?

Freeborn follow up and it is one of the highlights of Words Worth Shouting according to your humble host. Try to get past the rather thin sound, you must be used to that by now, and enjoy "Silver lining", a genuine anarchopunk nugget that concentrates the youthful hopefulness, the idealistic politics, the motivation and the cracking tunes that define the UK anarcho wave. Freeborn were from the Norwich area, Wisbech to be accurate, and were active from 1983 to 1987. This Freeborn is not to be confused with the other anarcho band called Free-Born, that recorded the Imprisonment is the Punishment in 1983 (they could be the same band but I doubt it since the Free-Born recording is faster, snottier and more aggressive, not unlike Conflict, and the vocals are very different, but then, bands moved fast at the time). Wisbech's Freeborn apparently had a demo - though I have never heard it - and were also included on the Bloodsuckers Ep and on the fourth volume of Overground's anarcho series, Anti-Capitalism. The band was decidedly melodic with a strong '77 influence and they remind me of acts like The Pagans or Naked on that level. "Silver lining" is a rather lengthy, mid-paced number with an upfront snake-like bass line, an eerie guitar sound that displays a rather melancholy vibe and dual male/female vocals. I am reminded of Morbid Humour, Karma Sutra, Icon AD and Dominant Patri and this is an excellent thing. As I mentioned, the song is long, six minutes (!), but since it focuses on moodiness with a mournful epic vibe, I think it works better that way. A fragile but brilliant one.

Opening side two is a poem from the infamous Britanarchist Nick Toczek. Beside the cleverly impertinent political words about state violence, democracy and apathy and Northern Ireland (the poem's called "Being terrorists"), I really love the accentuation and the prosodics and how he uses them to emphasize his outrage. I would be lying if I said I could listen to a whole Lp of poems or spoken words but as an introduction to a punk record, it has an undeniable impact as it sets the tone. As for Nick himself, well, I recommend listening to "Things to do on a saturday night" at least once a week. Reports have shown that it will make your hair grow back and return your lost lovers.

The tracklist then indicates that "Country's downfall" by Death Zone is supposed to follow but it was apparently an uncorrected mistake since what you really have is "Third generation" by Protest. I do like the snotty UK82 vibe of Death Zone a lot (and the singer had the perfect voice for the genre) but Protest's song is equally good. Hailing from the sunshiny Manchester area, Protest played hard-edged UK punk reminiscent of Riot Squad, Ultraviolent and One Way System if you know what I mean. Direct rough vocals, heavy punk sound and angry singalong chorus about some "lost generation" (but then reading punk lyrics, you'd think that every generation is a lost one, which feels true when you are young and romantic when you no longer are). But anyway, "Third generation" is a strong number of anarcho UK82. Protest also appeared - as Red Alert! - on the first Bullshit Detector and on the first volume of A Country Fit for Heroes and they even had an Ep on Excentric Noise (label of Cult Maniax among other things). 

You can hold your breath for the next one since it was the first vinyl appearance of my cherished Deviated Instinct with the song "Possession" which was recorded on September, 22nd, 1985 (it was raining that day), 364 days after they played their first gig (Freeborn was also on the bill incidentally). The song is from their pre-Peaceville era so don't expect a barrage of groovy crusty metal punk. In fact, you can tell that they were still in their learning phase characterized by the Tip of the Iceberg demo, basically a rather typical UK anarchopunk sound with teenage snot, some good tunes and a bit of metal. However, the metal influence is stronger on "Possession" and although the riffing is rudimentary - as is the overall recording - you can definitely see it as a pivotal composition, though it coexisted with the punkier songs from Tip of the Iceberg. While it retains some elements of traditional anarcho music like the dual vocal structure and the vocal tones themselves (without mentioning the anarcho heart logo and the crass font), at a time when Antisect were turning into a crushing apocalyptic metal punk band, the metal influence creeping in is no coincidence (besides, the hairy letters of the song's title don't fool anyone). If DI had split up after Words Worth Shouting, it is unlikely that this version of "Possession" (as much as I am personally fond of it) would have been a benchmark in punk history. However, taken in the broader perspective of crust development, I find it fascinating. It is probably a bit too long for its own good but the anti-religious lyrics are actually well-written and you can already spot the themes of mental decay and physical alienation that would re-appear in a more articulate version later on in the band's existence. A transitional song pointing to the next step. Luv it.

Haine Brigade are next with the song "Vivre pas survivre" (meaning "To live, not to survive"). I rarely write about French punk bands on Terminal Sound Nuisance, mostly because I don't really like or even listen to French punk-rock, and never have. I am not sure why but I have always felt that the French language does not fit easily with punk music and that, more often than not, the combination of both has very awkward results. That so-called French oi has become so popular outside of France (especially among nerdy, otherwise knowledgable punx) is an endless source of wonderment to me. I guess it sounds kinda exotic? To me, it sounds like shit. But I'm not here to talk about this nonsense. Haine Brigade, from Lyon, was a good anarchopunk band with that typical upbeat French punk-rock feel and dual male/female vocals (half sung, half spoken, neither tuneful nor tuneless, but inbetween). The song is from their first 1985 demo tape and is about alienation and trying to survive in a ruthless world. Pretty raw with a strong 80's. And if you need points of comparison, imagine Icon AD jamming with UK Subs in a garage.

Next are Pax Vobiscum (it means "Peace be with you" in Latin but since it has "scum" in it, it can work as a punk name as well) from Nottingham. I don't much about them, unfortunately. They released a demo tape in 1985 (recorded in two sessions with, I think, two different singers) that was reissued by Bluurg as a split tape with Eyes On You. "Misguided sins" is a great song though and the production is good too. Mid-paced dynamic anarchopunk with gruff aggressive vocals, some bizarre synth parts and an overall deranged atmosphere somewhere between Ad-Nauseam, Disrupters and The Damned. There are some other solid tracks on the demo and I would love to know more about the band (do you?). On a side note, the drawing of Jesus on the cross is probably one of the worst I've seen. Punk, innit?

Finally, Words Worth Shouting closes with a song from the cruelly overlooked Revulsion from Norwich. I am a massive Revulsion fan and I truly enjoy everything they did, from their über snotty punk beginnings to the elegant and emotional punk-rock of the early 90's. The compilation Lp being from 1985, the song "There is no need" still fits in the band's "snotty punk" era (the songwriting would become more refined and original on their 1987 records) embodied in their Ever Get the Feeling of Utter... Revulsion 12'' recorded about six months, in February, 1985, and also released on Radical Change (there was a former Disrupters member in Revulsion). You could say that "There is no need" is the logical follow-up to the 12''. The music is fast, catchy and energetic, reminiscent of the speedier UK82 bands like Varukers, Instant Agony or Social Disease, with a dash of Conflict and Legion of Parasites, and although the recipe is fairly simple, some moments (like the brilliant change of guitar riff in the middle of the song) clearly point toward early European hardcore-punk. Revulsion never were an all-out thrash band, the sound is pretty clear overall - they certainly knew how to play - but the anger and the clever hooks turned their songs into intense, memorable singalong anthems. The vocals are pissed but not forceful and despite the shouted snotty delivery, there is always a tunefulness in them, as if always trying to grab the listener's ear. Spiky anarchopunk at its very best. "There is no need" is about animal abuse and exploitation, which makes sense for a hunt sab benefit Lp. I wish punk sounded this good more often.    

Ace!

Punk Worth Shouting

The Tumult of a Decad (part 6): Disrupters "Alive in the electric chair" 12'', 1985

Sometimes, a name can sound so evocative that, even if you are unsure of its actual meaning, you just fall in love with it. Take the word "thoroughly" for instance. The first time I heard it (probably during that excruciatingly boring class about Wordsworth and Byron that I had to take), I did not know what it meant exactly. I was aware that it implied some kind of serious business since the teacher would frown with an air of utmost gravity and make an emphatic hand gesture whenever he uttered it. But more importantly, I loved the sound of the word and how the syllables fitted with each other. It brought images of intellectual sophistication to my mind and, despite the relative obscurity of its actual meaning, it made me feel pretty smart - which is what studying is all about when you think about it - now that I had a word like "thoroughly" in my bag of tricks. I henceforth used "thoroughly" carefully and parsimoniously, almost religiously, as if a bad use of the word on my part would somehow decrease its power. 

I fell for the Disrupters a bit like I did for "thoroughly". The first time I heard the name "Disrupters", it immediately clicked with me. Even before I got to hear them, I knew instinctively that I was going to love them and although the Disrupters never really conjured up images of glamour and refinement like "thoroughly" did, this superficial - and completely artificial - knowledge of the band made me feel good. Here was a band that I didn't know but was absolutely sure to love because they had such a great name. They had a dis prefix and the name sounded both punky and political. How could I not like them? 

I don't remember exactly how or when I first came across the Disrupters but I understood that they were that one anarcho band on the Punk and disorderly Lp with the song "Young offender". It was the early 00's in Paris so finding Disrupters records was near impossible and access to the internet was extremely limited for me. So I did what I always did whenever I became obsessed with a band that I just needed to hear, as if it were a crucial matter, one of life-changing proportions: I bothered older punks about it. I remember a particularly startled look upon a mate's face when I claimed that the world (meaning "me, myself and I") needed a Disrupters discography. But it was sadly to no avail, as no one really seemed to either know about the band or care enough to tape me something from them. And then, one day, in 2002, I received the distro list of Punk as Fuck, a massive distro based in France with tons of streetpunk but also some old-school anarchopunk. I almost fainted when I realized that he had a Disrupters tape, Gas the Punx (A collection 1980-1988), which was a whole discography tape, no less. So I wrote a letter to the distro with a list of what I wanted and included a check with it. I remember not hearing from the guy for months and at some point I thought the letter had got lost or that I had been ripped off. And then, out of the blue, I had a phone call one day with the distro guy asking me if I still wanted the records (there were the cd discographies of The Mob and Zounds as well, two bands that had been on my list for some time, and the order would prove to be a life-changing move). Finally, the parcel came and, at last, I was able to listen to the Disrupters wholly. And of course, I loved them and the tape, released on Pablo's Resistance Productions, came with a massive booklet full of lyrics and cool drawings (which my mum accidentally threw away, but that's another story entirely).

Welcome to 1985: three mullets and one moustache.

Today still I have a soft spot for the Disrupters, probably as much for the memory of my youthful obsession with them as for the actual music and stance. And I still think they picked a top name. Now that I am older and that my spectrum of obsessions has considerably broadened, I think it is a fair statement to say that Disrupters are one of the many 80's anarchopunk bands that are cruelly underrated. Contrary to a lot of other bands from that scene, they played for eight years (with a one-year hiatus though) and were rather prolific (perhaps too much so in hindsight), with two full albums, three Ep's and one 12''. They had their own record label, Radical Change, which released some classic anarcho records from Self-Abuse, Icon AD or Revulsion (the latter, being also from Norwich, were regular touring partners of the Disrupters), were politically active and greatly helped in the making of the Norwich DIY punk scene, for instance including a song from a then young local band called Deviated Instinct on Radical Change's compilation Words Worth Shouting, whose cover was also drawn by young Mid (the backcover was actually done by a Parisian, a good friend of mine, who used to follow Haine Brigade on tour in the 80's... small punk world, innit?). Nowadays, although the band reformed a few years ago, the Disrupters' legacy is seldom discussed or examined. So it was only a matter of time before I dealt with this Norwich bunch.

Forming in 1980, the Disrupters were part of the second wave of British anarchopunk, the one that emerged in the very early 80's. Their first Ep, from 1981, Young Offender, was a gloriously sloppy, snotty, teenage angst-fueled, punky offering, a genuine two-chords wonder that, for all its simplicity, managed to sound catchy and spontaneous, somewhere between The Epileptics and The Synix. The second Ep, 1982's Shelters for the Rich, was perhaps moodier and better produced (or just produced, really) and it is my favourite early Disrupters record. It retained that lovable punk urgency and amateurism but catchier riffs and a more brooding atmosphere made it a stronger effort. The first album, Unrehearsed Wrongs, from 1983, also comes recommended as it displayed some heavier moments while keeping the tuneful hooks. But to me, the band's real crowning glory was their last record, Alive in the Electric Chair. 

Released in 1985 and recorded during two sessions (you can hear the difference if you focus), it is, by far, the band's most mature and best written work, one that epitomizes what the Disrupters did best: raucous, simple but catchy punk-rock anthems with a dark undertone. The vocals always played an important role in making the band remarkable, as they sound warm and raucous but also threatening, able to convey a very real sense of frustration. The Disrupters were possibly punkier than a lot of their anarcho colleagues, and this unashamedly rock'n'roll aspect does shine through on this 12'', especially in the record's singalong quality. I am reminded of mid-80's Kronstadt Uprising on that level, but also of bands like Blitz, The Underdogs, One Way System or The Defects who, if you care to feel the music instead of just hearing it, all had a dark and desperate tone permeating their anthemic boisterous songwriting and that is exactly where the Disrupters succeeded on their last record, in the balance between the two. Darkness and frustration are always lurking. On the surface of the very rocky riff of "Give me a rush", behind the hauntingly spiteful screams of "Rot in Hell" (arguably the band's best song) and the desperate chorus of "I'm still here", in the melancholy reggae-tinged "Tearing apart"... Alive in the Electric Chair is a magnificent punk-rock record, simultaneously inhabited with a dark, heavy simplicity and a catchy, uplifting raucousness. The very upfront bass-lines work well here with the rather clear sound of the guitar and its smart leads, the drums are reminiscent of the cold tribal beats of Crass and I cannot imagine a better singer for these six songs as he adds a proper intensity and sincerity to the music. 

The lyrics are pretty direct and tackle different subjects, from the nihilistic use of drugs, to the weak liberal politics of the CND, vengeance, depression and the prison system. And as a bonus, you even have a short comic entitled PC Porker goes undercover which always makes me giggle and the traditional runout groove etching with "Tell us about the money Johnny" on side one and "Come back Ian, I'm pregnant" on the other. I do hope Johnny was able to pay his debt and that Ian was a good dad. 

The Disrupters are ace