Wesh to Sweden, the Formative Years (part 7): "Stockholm Hardcore 1983-1986" compilation tape (2004?)

Not so long ago (or at least it seems that way but perhaps I’m heading toward the mid-life crisis faster than was previously thought), tapes were going virtually extinct in the Western punk scene. In fact, I really struggle to remember even buying a demo tape from a Western hardcore punk band (to be understood in terms of living and technological conditions rather than strictly geographically) in the early and mid noughties. Cdr’s - nowadays universally considered as the most uncool format ever for its rather bland and cold aspect - had replaced the tape format in terms of convenience (you could easily burn your own cd’s), low prices (cdr’s were cheaper) and availability (everyone had cd players in those days). My generation saw the decline of tapes in the early 90’s, followed by the unstoppable rise of the cd format, the arrival of a seemingly invincible new challenger in the guise of the mp3, the rapid decline of the cd format, the rebirth of the tape format now declared a deliciously vintage and exclusive - not to mention Insta-compatible - artifact and, eventually, the undisputed victory of online streaming platforms and the downfall of the mp3. And I am not even mentioning the vinyl format here because it had already lost much of its cultural and commercial relevance when I started to listen to music in the 90’s. Of course, punks have always bought vinyls and will keep doing so religiously, forever and ever, until the end of times because, when punk-rock was born, the vinyl format ruled the music industry and since, as a consequence, all the 70’s and 80’s classics were originally released on vinyl, our punk brains have so closely linked the content to the container that to keep releasing and buying vinyls 30 years after the format is a ritualistic way to connect ourselves to our roots and to our tribe, the distro table taking on an almost altar-like function where punk are given Holy Communion. To buy a record from a DIY punk distro is much more than just acquiring new music, it is also engaging culturally and symbolically in a historical subculture and taking part in one if its rituals, an act often summarized as "supporting the scene".  

But I digress as usual. While we still used tapes in the early noughties to make compilations for mates, tape radio shows and records we borrowed from each other or, of course, record our weekly afternoon drinking sessions that we also called "band practices" at the time (though I am really not sure it deserved to be referred to as such), we never considered releasing a demo tape and thought highly of the cd format which granted you more autonomy and could allow for a totally DIY project, though you did have to find someone with a computer that could burn cd's at decent rate. We did buy music tapes though, on a rather regular basis, from the Polish or Czech distro and labels like NNNW, Malarie or Trujaca Fala not only released many tapes of Eastern punk bands but also offered tape versions of Western bands for really cheap. Back then, many Polish punks did not own CD players and tapes were therefore still socially relevant and affordable for the unwashed masses. The format basically still made some sense at the time, even for us since, after all, we had grown up listening to tapes and still used them, only we did not think highly of a format that did not age well and knew it was bound to disappear. Tapes certainly did not have that hip, exclusive, vintage aura of nostalgia chic that it often has nowadays, completely disconnected from its very real convenience, its many uses and the crucial role it played in the development of punk in the 80's. I do buy tapes nowadays - because bands I love release tapes - and I am well aware of the technological obsolescence and the cultural snobbishness inherent in the format in 2020. The modern punk tape is twofold: it symbolizes something I actually love about us punx, that we have strong and meaningful cultural practices and rather subtle aesthetical traditions that we romantically and passionately keep alive (the act of buying demo tape makes you part of the tribe, even though you are going to stream the thing anyway), but the tape is also something that is more problematic and can be our downfall, that lies in our intentional exclusiveness and growing nostalgic obsession with a reconstructed "golden era", whether it translates into the music (the endless mimicking of the 80's) or the format (just show a tape to a modern teen). This might seem unrelated to the topic at hand but it is not as the social and cultural perception of the container also affects the way we engage with the content that homemade. What this endless rants is getting at is that this cheap-looking Stockholm Hardcore 1983-1986 tape, adorned with a xeroxed cover, that will conclude the introspective Wesh to Sweden series cannot be said to have a highly fashionable item of the winter 2004, when it was presumably bootlegged.

It might sound weird but I actually got this tape at an emocore show in 2004 (or was it 2005?). As you can imagine, I never cared much for the genre and, to this day, I would be at a loss to name any proper emo classics although the few bands I knew were actually alright. This did not mean I went to many emo shows but, as I remember it, my mates and I had nothing better to do on that particular Saturday night and it just so happened that it was the only "punk gig" taking place and we thought we would "hang out". At that time, we were really not that picky about the gigs' lineup or the genres the bands were adopting, we just went to "the punk gig", be it savage and sloppy crust punk, nasty goregrind, embarrassing French punk-rock, fucking folk punk or, in this case, bloody emocore. We would usually get a bit pissed on the outside (well, more than just a bit actually) and then get in to watch the bands, out of curiosity and to show our support to "the scene" because we did have some ethical principles. On this night, the long-running French record label and distro Emergence had set a table and was selling your usual hardcore cd's and vinyls as well as a couple of punk tapes, among which one immediately caught my eye: Stockholm Hardcore 1983-1986.

As I mentioned in the first part of my highly fascinating autobiographical series Wesh to Sweden (rumoured to be soon adapted by Netflix but don't hold your breath), I first heard Mob 47 on the radio through a Paris-based radio show called Ça Rend Sourd that was broadcast every other sunday night and, in spite of it being the day of the Lord, played a lot of Scandinavian hardcore, grindcore and things of the D which, one surmises, can be considered as one of punk's dominical sacraments. A friend of mine with a computer in his room and a decent internet connection allowing for some soulseek frenzy then burnt a cdr, on my request, with plenty of random recordings of the band. I absolutely cherished that cdr. Mob 47 was probably the most energetic band I knew, they sounded so relentless and furious but also very snotty and punky. I could really picture a bunch of spotty teenagers getting pissed and playing as fast and hard as possible all afternoon. The very punky vibe that pervaded their raw hardcore songs reminded me of a sped up version of the Varukers' early recordings, a band that I was genuinely fond of. Although I did not own any official record of Mob 47 then - the Ultimate Attack discography was probably not out yet and neither was the reissue of the Ep - I had managed to find a tape that had their 1985 demo on one side and Asocial's 1982 demo on the other (kind of an odd one I now realize) the year before but spotting a vintage compilation with not only Mob 47 but also five other Stockholm bands I had never heard of felt like a sign from above, one not to be discarded (get it?). At that time I did not know that many scandicore bands from the 80's but, thanks to the very referential 90's Swedish wave, I had a rather precise idea of its characteristics. I knew of Anti-Cimex of course (my mate had compiled a very disorganized cdr with songs from all their periods as well as some Shitlickers numbers, for some reason, which was terribly confusing for me), Avskum (I had bought the bootleg Ep of Crucified by the System), No Security (the When the Gist is Sucked from the Fruit of Welfare bootleg discography was mine thanks to an earlier trip to the 1in12 Club in Bradford) and Disarm (read their name in a fanzine, got some mp3's through that aforementioned benevolent friends and adored the raucous but tuneful singing style over the raw hardcore music and still do). Along with Asocial through the aforementioned unofficial split tape, that must have been pretty much it, give or take one Svart Snö. Therefore the perspective to discover five new bands for a mere three euros felt like an unmissable opportunity, one that I took fearlessly with the proverbial heart full of pride. 

Was the name of the band "Discard" or "Discaro"? The doubt remained when we first listened to the tape collectively and passed around the minimal xeroxed cover but, as the self-appointed leader of the Shakespearean language, I pointed out that "Discard" actually meant something while "Discaro", to anybody's linguistic knowledge, did not. Needless to say that I played this tape to death and, to this day, it still easily ranked as one of my favourite hardcore punk compilation. I learnt years later that my Stockholm Hardcore 1983-1986 tape was a bootleg of 2000's Stockholms Mangel compilation Lp (released on the highly transparent label Swedish Punk Classics), a reissue of the original 1986 compilation tape Stockholms Mangel (fun fact: it is nowadays worth twice the medium monthly wage in Moldova). The 1986 tape only included Mob 47, Crudity and Agoni so that Protes Bengt, Discard and Röjers - as well as five Mob 47 songs - did not initially appear on the tape. To be honest, had some knowledgeable punk told me those nerd-oriented details when I acquired the object, I most certainly would not have given an actual fuck, but the compiling and recompiling history of Stockholms Mangel is rather interesting and might get handy on trivia nights. Another urgent reason why I bought the tape also lied in the presence of the band Agoni. At that time, we were seriously thinking of starting a crust punk band and has settled for the name Agonie (the French for "agony" obviously). We were therefore a bit upset that a band had already picked the moniker, even twenty years before, and worried that old-timers would mercilessly scoff at our choice. Those fears related to punk terminology proved to be unwarranted as, not only were Agoni a very obscure Swedish hardcore band, but we were also never good enough to be worthy of being scoffed at anyway.     

I have always loved the manic energy and the youthful anger that pervade Mob 47's music and, obviously, the sheer speed of the songs, so fast that the songs constantly sound like they are on the brink of derailing. As an accelerated hardcore version of the traditional Discharge beat, some people have been calling the Mob 47 pace "C-beat", which is both ridiculous and awesome (but then, so is punk I guess). The seven songs originally included on the Stockholms Mangel tape from 1986 were recorded in January, 1985, with Ake on vocals but the five additional songs come from different recording sessions: "Racist regime" was done in June, 1985, "Stop the slaughter" in February, 1985, "Arms race" in April, 1985, all with Robban on vocals, while "Couch slouch" and "Nedrusta nu" were recorded in September, 1987 with Tommy behind the mike during the band's practice before the band's last 80's gig (in case you did not know, no less than five singers - including guitarist Ake - tried their luck in Mob 47). All the songs were recorded in the "bowling studio" (Ake's parents owned a bowling alley) and therefore have the same specific tone, raw, rough even, but warm and frenzied. What more can I say about this wonderful band that has already been well documented? They epitomized the typically Swedish "mangel sound", that brand of furiously fast, raw, short, Dis-oriented hardcore songs, and were therefore quite particular and identifiable, but, at the same time, as their covers of BGK, Varukers and DRI attested, they were completely rooted in and indicative of the collective worldwide hardcore explosion of the 80's. Both unique and representative. And I had forgotten how brilliantly catchy and powerful those guitar riffs sounded like and how much of an influence on crust punk they have been (just listen to State of Fear and Consume if you need a blatant example). An exceptional band for ordinary punks, one that can appeal to fans of Gang Green, Disorder, Minor Threat, Ratos de Porao or Discharge alike. This band smokes. Love it.

 

The insanely energetic Mob 47 are always going to be a tough act to follow and, to be fair, when I got the tape, I did not think much of Agoni who, though not bad at all, inevitably struck me as a little bland and, well, even slow when compared to the other bands. Throughout the years though, I have taken to really enjoy the gruff hardcore power of Agoni, reminiscent of fellow Swedes Svart Parad, early Avskum, Bombanfall or, of course, Anti-Cimex. Seven rough songs in about eight minutes of raw and pummeling käng with cavemen vocals and aggressive rousing chorus that were originally released as a demo tape in 1985. Classic but aptly executed with that typical Scandinavian crunch. Following those early songs, the band got bitten by long-haired drunks wearing sleeveless denim jacket in a dodgy rock bar on the outskirts of Stockholm and subsequently changed their name to Agony and started playing thrash metal, a turn that, out of common decency, I shall not comment upon. As is often the case in punk-rock, the Stockholm hardcore scene was quite incestuous and one could not be a proper scene member unless he or she played in at least three different Discharge-loving bands (a very sensible rule indeed). Agoni's singer Per also growled in the magnificent Discard (and apparently wrote many lyrics for Mob 47) while Peter joined Svart Snö later on. For some strange reasons, the Agoni demo was never reissued but I am sure it will eventually get the treatment.     

Following up are the fantastic Crudity, a band with a rather unfortunate name from the perspective of a Frenchman fond of silly puns (believe me, that's somewhat pleonastic as I have yet to meet a French person who is not desperate to crack a joke after learning that there is a band called "Crudity"). If you are the kind of punk who cannot ever grow tired of Mob 47, listening to Crudity could be an ideally healthy sonic complement and will have you fantasize the magic excavation of a yet unknown Mob 47 session. Fast, catchy and raw, riff-driven mangel-style hardcore punk with top notch angry singalongs and raspy vocals courtesy of Tommy, who later joined Mob 47. Crudity was also the first band of Mart Hällgren (referred to as a punk legend on the internet) who went on to play in De Lyckliga Kompisarna, Ubba and Greven & James, in other terms bands I have absolutely never heard about... To get back to the heavenly rawness at stake, Crudity were to the point and, perhaps, a little heavier - or just a tad more Cimexian - than their closest neighbours. Twelve short songs of mean hardcore fury recorded in 1985 by Ake in the infamous bowling alley that will have you pogo like you're 16 again (I'd recommend warming up a little before though, one is never too cautious) which, when you think about it, is rather paradoxical since Crudity only ever played one gig in 1984. So maybe don't think too hard about it.

 

Next are the brutal Protes Bengt, the first of the three bands that were not originally included on the compilation tape, but do appear on 2000's expanded version and on this DIY unofficial tape of mine. Although undeniably more a studio project than an actual band, Protes Bengt are the stuff of legends. A shame they never played a proper gig then, a somewhat unusual characteristic in a genre that is best appreciated live with a suspiciously foamy pint of lager and foul-breathed punters speaking far too close to your face. Formed in 1985 by Ake and Chrille from Mob 47 and Per and Ola who played in Filthy Christians, PB will remain in the grand narrative of punk (a narrative is pretty much like a story but it immediately tells the reader you have a university degree, hence its inclusion here) as that lightning fast, crazy and rough hardcore band that had a 32-song Ep in 1986, In Bengt we Trust. I do not know the exact recording details of the 16 songs included on Stockholm Hardcore, but presuming that they were recorded sometime in 1986 at Ake's bowling studio is a safe bet. The first 12 songs originally appeared on the Bengt E Sängt tape, the following three were taken from the Ep and I am clueless about the last one, "Trippelmoral", that has Ake on vocals. Contrary to Mob 47, Agoni and Crudity, who, on the whole, reveled in just one faster-than-D-beat, PB proved to be even faster. With a more direct and brutal hardcore music, but also adopting a less linear style that was closer to that emerging brand of fast hardcore that used proto blast beats (bands like Siege, Gauze, DRI or Lärm), PB sound quite different from the other bands on the tape. Well, there is still a significant reliance on the traditional Dis-mangel beat but I would argue that the dominating beat here is the proto blast beat and I would not be surprised to learn that PB were a meaningful influence through the mid-80's tape trading movement on many early grindcore and crust bands (especially in the light of Filthy Christians' eventual direction). The vocals are deliciously gruff and caveman-like and, among all the insane speed, there are even a couple of mid-paced crunchy metallic pace to remind you that you are entering the second part of the 80's. The sound is, well, rough like a badger's arse but I wouldn't have it any other way because that's exactly how I want speed-crazed old-school hardcore to sound like. Most of the songs don't even last a minute (some don't even make it to 30 seconds in fact) and many obey the untold but pregnant rule of primitive hardcore "one riff equals one song" and there is nothing wrong with such wise zen-like religious beliefs. PB's music is probably not safe for work but will probably be a blast at your 8 year old nephew's birthday party.

 

Next up are Discard which I have already discussed at length in my Pulitzer price-winning diatribe here so I am not going to bother repeating myself too much. If you missed the previous seasons of Terminal Sound Nuisance, Discard was yet another side-project of Ake and Chrille from Mob 47, this time aided in their quest for noize by Per from Agoni and Rickard (later on in Asocial). Discard was the band Doom wanted to be when they started and you could argue that in terms of conception and philosophy (but not of execution), Discard created the d-beat genre. As Ake willfully admits in an interview from the latest issue of the great Our Future fanzine "DISCARD was meant to be a DISCHARGE rip-off band, the music, lyrics and band logo", however I personally would not qualify them as a genuine d-beat band since their version of the Discharge formula was faster, rougher and more gruff, therefore they did not sound "just like" Discharge like Disaster or the 90's incarnation of Discard did. The D is too serious a subject not to be dealt with subtlety. The Discard songs on Stockholms Mangel/Hardcore were taken from the deliciously raw Sound of War recording session from 1985 and sound like Discharge being covered by a bunch of disgruntled bears on speed. Certainly one of my favourite hardcore recordings from the 80's. The last band on the tape is Röjers, yet another band with guitar hero Ake. The band only ever recorded three songs, one of which is just a 24 second long blasting hardcore filler, so it is rather arduous to make a definitive judgement. The perceptive listener will have little trouble to recognize Ake's potent hardcore riffs - the man basically personifies the dynamism inherent in hardcore punk - and vocals (right?). The songs are still bloody fast scorchers and do not stray too far from the safety of traditional scandicore territory, but you can still hear a soft but distinct Venomous and evil touch in the singing style and the arrangements, not unlike Mob 47 jamming with Onslaught and Criminal Justice in the bowling studio, knowhatimean? I had forgotten how thoroughly enjoyable those Röjers songs sounded like and it is a shame the band, more probably a studio project, did not record more at the time. No recording dates but 1985 or 1986 seem sensible.

 

The sound of the tape is obviously a bit rough. First, because all the original recordings were spontaneous slabs of raw 80's mangel so only a simpleton would feel entitled to expect clean-sounding music; second, because it is a homemade bootleg tape that is the same age as the dodgy teenagers who smoke weed listening to vocodered crap in front of your flat; and third, because I played Stockholm Hardcore a lot and I have fond memories of taking the portable tape player out on hot summer days and getting pissed on the river banks with friends while blasting those classic Swedish hardcore songs and showing the fingers to the tourists on their fly boats. Good times.

 

This is mangel heaven. My sole complaint is very minor but why is it called Stockholm Hardcore 1983-1986 when all the recordings were done between 1985 and 1986? I like Stockholms Mangel better, don't you?                           

Mangel-mongers

 

Who Needs Wacky Titles Anyways!?! (part 4): The Fits "Tears of a Nation" Ep, 1983

Last week, we saw that a band majoring in anarchopunk, No Choice, got to be released on the prime UK82 punk label, Riot City Records. Well, today will be the exact opposite, a band closely associated with the UK82 wave that had a record on a classic anarchopunk label: The Fits' Tears of a Nation released on Corpus Christi. 

It only really hit me a few years ago as I was taking a closer look at Corpus Christi's discography. For the ignoramuses among you, Corpus Christi Records was an offshoot of Crass Records, run by owner of Southern Studios, John Loder, and some members of Crass. The original idea was that, if you already had a release on Crass, you couldn't have a second one (it was one of the label's principles), but you could always go to Corpus Christi, which was the route taken by Rudimentary Peni, Lack of Knowledge, Alternative, Conflict or Omega Tribe. It also meant that you did not have to have Penny Rimbaud as a sound engineer, which gave more freedom to the recording bands (though I personally really like his work and his influence in the shaping of what has come to be known as "the typical anarchopunk sound"). Some bands on Corpus Christi, however, had never released anything on Crass Records before, which was the case for The Fits, a band that had previously been tied with labels like Beat the System!! or Rondelet Records. It is often said that there was more variety on Corpus Christi than on Crass but I tend to think that this impression has more to do with a superior flexibility and diversity in terms of production and sound (and of course, aesthetics) rather than style or songwriting strictly speaking. But I digress.

I first came across The Fits the same way I did many other second-wave UK punk bands in my teenage years: through a colossal Captain Oi discography. To be honest, I did not really like them at first and for a long time I would see this Blackpool band as a bit of an average act that had a couple of good songs but wrote too many fillers. If The Fits were a wrestler, in my mind, they would have been a mid carder like the Big Boss Man or Rick Martel (to give you some perspective, Abrasive Wheels would have definitely been Bret Hart). I think this had a lot to do with the way The Fits Punk Collection was curated. Arranging the songs in chronological order is usually the best choice you can make when dealing with such 80's punk bands since they almost always start great and then progressively turn pop-rock or New Romantic or whatever. But with The Fits, it was pretty much the other way around, since their first records were pretty bad but they eventually got better. It still meant that you had to listen to their whole first Lp before reaching the good stuff and it often proved too much for me at that age, especially since there were cd's with great songs from the beginning (I am aware it sounds a little silly but that was my listening practice back then). 

But let's talk about the band a little. Formed in Blackpool in 1979, their first Ep was the very shambolic and remarkably out-of-tune You Said we'd Never Make it. Of course, these three tracks opened the aforementioned cd compilation so it is little wonder that I was left unimpressed. I suppose it is enjoyable if you are into badly played, obnoxious snotty punk. It almost sounds experimental at times, though unintentionally. This first Ep was pretty successful and even got a repress on Beat the System Records, a Blackpool-based label that released very strong UK82 records, and although it doesn't get mentioned as often as the two mammoths Riot City and No Future, Beat the System was still responsible for putting out materials from Death Sentence, External Menace, Chaotic Youth, Uproar and One Way System (and Antisocial, but they sucked). The Fits then signed to Rondelet Records in 1981, a bigger indie label that had released records for Anti-Pasti (and later on for The Membranes, Special Duties and The Threats). Their 1982 Think for Yourself Ep was much better and showed what The Fits were actually good at, intense mid-paced punk-rock songs with loud aggressive vocals. The You're Nothing, You're Nowhere Lp recorded the same year had a very cool cover (but then The Fits often had a particular visual taste) but was pretty boring. I guess they were trying to build on the previous Ep but forgot that you actually had to write good songs for the formula to work well (for some reason the Lp got reissued in 2017 which shows once again that nostalgia is directionless). After some lineup changes (members from One Way System and the cruelly overlooked Chaotic Youth joined), The Fits recorded the convincing The Last Laugh Ep in 1982 (yes, that's three records in only one year, talk about productivity). The sound may not have been perfect but the songs were very catchy and energetic and you had some lovely hooks which showed that The Fits could actually write tuneful punk music without losing their angry vibe. I think it would not be far-fetched to claim that this Ep paved the way for the band's classic Ep, Tears of a Nation.

Not even one quid!

Generally, second-wave punk bands' defining moment could be located at their second or third records, but The Fits had to wait until their fifth one to reach that point (granted, they were so prolific in so short a time that lines became a bit blurry). After a meeting with the people from Crass (a rather funny recollection of the encounter is included in Glasper's Burning Britain), The Fits got a deal for an Ep on Corpus Christi which was recorded in June, 1983. Tears of a Nation is one of the strongest Ep's of the so-called UK82 wave and it sold well for good reasons. The Fits were at the top of their game in terms of focused songwriting and the sound is perfect, heavy, with a punky rawness, dark and powerful (it was produced by Barry Sage who also did the Test Tubes' celebrated Mating Sounds Lp). The title track was a threatening, desperate-sounding slow-paced number with rather depressive lyrics and a massive chorus that embodied the social despair of the times. Heavy stuff. "Bravado" was an angry, anthemic mid-paced song while "Breaking point" was a fast hardcore-ish one which showed that The Fits could also sound good when speeding up (the previous Ep pointed in that direction I suppose). The three songs were reminiscent of vintage One Way System (I suppose comparisons with Uproar, The Underdogs or Icons of Filth are relevant too here) in terms of boisterous intensity and gloomy songwriting, but still had The Fits' imprint. I am aware that we, collectively, have created a classifying discourse revolving around specific genres and aesthetics that comforts our modern way of looking at punk-rock. Like we need hashtags and keywords in order to comprehend music, we often try to retroactively force our analytical templates on cultural moments at the expense of relevance. What I mean is that Tears of a Nation may not fit (lol) perfectly the UK82 mould that the internet age has consecrated and it may be for the best. It is just a great record of raucous 80's punk-rock and in the end, that's all that matters. Besides, I am pretty sure that bands like No Hope for the Kids and all the other so-called "dark punk" bands around have been playing The Fits a lot (maybe even before it was cool again to be into UK82... the vicissitude of punk trends...). As for the cover, it may be The Fits' least original, with brooding pictures of the boys, looking half-way between cheesy heavy metal and mid-80's postpunk (ironically, this once corny look is more fashionable than ever... oh well). Unfortunately there is no insert, which is a bit of a shame, especially for a Corpus Christi record. 

Following this gem, The Fits released a split 12'' with Peter and the Test Tube Babies (an unlikely pairing but there you go) and two more Ep's, the rather good and melodic Action and the much less inspired Fact or Fiction. To tell you the truth, the songs included on those records were all at the end of the cd and I seldom listened as far. I do like the chorus on "Action" though. Obviously, it is not the end of The Fits' story since the band reformed and released a new cd single in 2013 and a full live album in 2015, but I haven't found the courage to listen to them yet. 

Fits of a nation

   

Who Needs Wacky Titles Anyways!?! (part 3): No Choice "Sadist dream" Ep, 1983

Last time, I tackled a sadly overlooked record released on Riot City Records in 1982. Today's post will be something else entirely since we will be dealing with a sadly overlooked record released on Riot City Records in 1983. You see, that is exactly where the strength of Terminal Sound Nuisance lies: variety and constant reinvention. 

Undead's Violent Visions was Bristol label's Riot 15 while No Choice's Sadist Dream was Riot 20 and if not much time had passed between both releases, the years 1982 and 1983 were so prolific for Riot City (and many other punk labels at the time) that it is no wonder that records that did not sound exactly like the fashion of the day could have gone relatively unnoticed. As we have seen, Undead were both typical and yet quite original with their darker, gloomier take on the UK82 blueprint, No Choice however were unlike anything Riot City had released at that point and it stands as a bit of an anomaly - albeit a brilliant one - in the label's full catalogue, much more so than the label's subsequent Ep, Emergency's very Buzzcocks-influenced Points of View. No Choice, in terms of sound and lyrics, were basically an anarchopunk band (Ian Glasper was right to include them in The Day the Country Died), and you could definitely picture Sadist Dream being released on Bluurg or Spiderleg at the time. But punk-rock is full of little surprises and things are not always as clear-cut as we imagined them to be, especially from a point of view distorted by 35 years of storytelling and mythification regarding the collective fantasy that the 1980's have turned into.

But back to No Choice, a band unlucky enough to hail from Wales. Now, I have nothing against Welsh punk-rock, on the contrary, but you have to admit that many amazing 80's punk bands from Wales unfairly remain largely ignored, like Shrapnel, Soldier Dolls, Symbol of Freedom or indeed No Choice themselves. Therefore I cannot recommend Antisociety's grand 2012 compilation Bullsheep Detector (Wales is supposed to have a lot of sheep and the Google search "Wales sheep to human ratio" is apparently widespread) which offers a great and thoroughly enjoyable overview of early 80's Welsh punk music including a classic No Choice number. The band formed in Cardiff in 1982 and settled for the "No Choice" moniker in order to reflect the pervasive feeling of powerlessness inherent in the working-class life of teenagers during Thatcher's rule and the need to do something about it. I have never been a fan of band names starting with a "No" because they always remind of jumpy U$ hardcore from the 90's for some reason. To be fair, No Choice could not be further from 80's hardcore though. 

Their first demo was recorded in 1982. It was a collection of 13 songs which, despite a very raw, trebly sound and some really sloppy bits (to play in time or in tune was not always a priority), showcased what No Choice really excelled at: crafting tuneful anthemic punk songs with a strong Beat vibe. I would be lying if I claimed that this first demo was flawless. However, songs like "Wotswar", "Hard life", "Sale on" or "YOP" are instant winners blending the poppy, melancholy side of anarchopunk with gritty singalong punk-rock. A bit like a lo-fi jam between Zounds, Omega Tribe, Demob, Menace and Passion Killers. Though by no means a ground-breaking recording, it sounds very promising and fresh and after a gig with Chaos UK in Cardiff (they also got to play with local anarcho heroes Icons of Filth, Conflict and Omega Tribe), Chaos took a copy of the demo to Simon from Riot City who then offered No Choice a deal for an Ep which Sadist Dream would materialize.  

Sadist Dream is certainly not your average Riot City Ep and the cover, a mushroom cloud with the shadows of a mother and her child in the foreground (the latter weirdly resembling the creature in the movie E.T.), was already a clue that No Choice's pacifist imagery and politics were closer to those of Crass than Vice Squad's. And indeed, I can imagine how baffled some of the listeners must have been when playing the A-side of the Ep: it is an almost five minute long pensive spoken word piece - done by the band's second singer Cid - about war with melancholy melodies in the background. If I am a sucker for such anarcho cheese and therefore gladly enjoy it, one has to admit that it had much to do with Flux of Pink Indians' praxis and had no antecedent in what Riot City would usually put out. The two songs on the B-side are fantastic slices of anthemic melodic political punk-rock. "Nuclear disaster" starts out deceptively with a slow eerie, Zounds-like introduction before exploding into an intense bass-driven punk number with a dark, hypnotic guitar tune and very passionate vocals about the - then - impending threat of nuclear annihilation (not unlike Kulturkampf I guess). The second song, "Cream of the crop", is a massive working-class (and proud) hymn with a crispy Beat vibe and a chorus of the catchiest order, a bit like a mix between Demob and the Upstarts or something. On the whole, the production is still quite raw, with an organic sound that confers warmth and authenticity to the songs and even though there are a couple of sloppy bits here and there, the energy and the ambition to play non-generic catchy punk-rock are remarkable. I love Sadist Dream and I apologize for the skips on the rip but I have played that fucker a lot. 

Following the Ep, the band split up (of course they would) but reformed shortly after with a new drummer. This lineup recorded the magnificent Question Time? demo in 1984, a six song effort that was, by far, their most powerful in terms of sound and saw No Choice at the peak of their songwriting ability as they blended seamlessly catchy melodic poppy tunes and anthemic working-class punk-rock with sensible political lyrics from the heart. If you like your anarchopunk with grit and tunes, it just doesn't get much better than this demo (that no one thought of reissuing it on vinyl yet is unexplainable although Grand Theft Audio released a cd that compiled the band's 80's recordings in 2001) and four songs from it got included on two Rot Records compilations (the Have a Rotten Christmas ones). 

This was not the end of the No Choice story however. Along with Tim from Icons of Filth, three members of No Choice formed SAND in the 90's before reforming No Choice in 2001 for good. The band didn't try to live on their past and wrote a new songs with a different sound, though they did not give up on tunefulness, quite close to UK melodic hardcore like Leatherface, HDQ or Snuff. Their 2003 album on Newest Industry Records, Dry River Fishing, is very good if you are into that sound. I got to see them in 2013 and they were energetic and only played songs from their 00's albums which was both a bit of a disappointment since I wanted to sing along to "Cream of the crop" and also a sign that they did not want to be just an old reformed band from the 80's. Truly punk this lot.    

Sadist Choice

           

California Screamin' (part 1): Trial "S/t" Ep, 1983

Fuck me, it is 2018 already and, after dealing with the traditional bad news and exchanging the usual phony wishes that the new year invariably brings, it is high time I get to work again with a brand new series about a genre that is particularly dear to my soft heart: peacepunk. 

My faithful readers know full well that I have already raved about peacepunk bands or about their legatees on several occasions in the past (The Iconoclast, Another Destructive System, Glycine Max or Diatribe have already been invited on Terminal Sound Nuisance among others) but I have never done an actual series on the subject. To be honest, the enterprise is tricky for several reasons. First, 80's bands associated to peacepunk are not very well documented, if at all in some cases, so that writing about them proves difficult and potentially foolhardy. Second, the very concept of "peacepunk" can seem problematic in itself and must be imperatively read and understood in the specific context of its birth, namely California and its different punk creative centers. As I touched upon in the post about Iconoclast, to be a "peacepunk" band or to identify as one was apparently a matter of some importance or even a bone of contention in the 80's. This probably had a lot to do with the nature of the Californian punk scenes that had so many punk tribes, and sometimes antagonistic ones too, that you could basically choose your own punk subscene inside the larger punk scene. It could also be argued that the highly political nature of peacepunk bands, their vocal dedication to serious causes and their overt pacifism was not to everyone's taste and that tribal rivalries must have occurred (maybe not unlike the tensions that emerged in the UK with the rise of anarchopunk), hence the "peacepunk question" sounding somewhat crucial. 

Why peacepunk thrived so proliferously in the Bay Area and Southern California is open to argument and discussion and I am certainly not familiar enough with the broader Californian punk scenes to be able to emit a definitive judgement. Undeniably, peacepunk bands were deeply influenced by Crass and the anarchopunk politics (feminism, animal rights, militant pacifism and so on) and aesthetics (bloody doves everywhere mate) and by Discharge's radical and raw antiwar stance to an extent that had few - if any - equivalents in the world. Perhaps the liberal political tradition of San Francisco (the parallels with the politics of the hippie movement are relevant) was a key factor and, as Stuart from Shit-Fi suggested in his review of Diatribe, perhaps the social conditions in SoCal experienced by young punks made the anger of Discharge and the serious stance of Crass relevant. Or perhaps, they just all wanted to wear black clothes and charged hair and that peacepunk was basically the only available punk option back then. For the sake of defining (and we just love our definitions steady, don't we?) let's assume in the context of this series that peacepunk was a successful and inspiring adaptation (in other terms, not a copy but an actualisation) of British anarchopunk in Californian contexts. 

The first part of California Screamin' (yes I know it is  the name of a roller coaster but it actually changed its name to Incredicoaster - sigh - on January, 8th, so basically I am now legally entitled to use the name, right?) will focus on a first generation peacepunk band from San Francisco, Trial - no, not the 90's SxE band, where do you think you are? SF Trial formed in 1982, when the band members were still spotty teenagers, and split up in 1987 (I think?), releasing this self-titled Ep in 1983 and the Moments of Collapse Lp in 1986 in the meantime. Interestingly, the brother of Trial's singer John, was Matt, the bass player from Crucifix, and their sister was Sarah, Atrocity's singer (family dinners at the Borruso's must have been so fun). In actual facts, there were more connections between Crucifix and Trial: Chris, the original drummer of the former played on the latter's album; guitar player Jake recorded the Trial Ep; Freak Records (run by Crucifix if I understand well) released the aforementioned Ep as well as Crucifix' Nineteen Eighty-Four Ep; and of course the bands often played together. On the broader scale, Crucifix were completely instrumental in the making of the peacepunk scene and their overarching influence (on a musical, visual or lyrical level) cannot be overestimated. They played a major role in the development of the scene and certainly inspired the early generation of peacepunk bands like Treason, Against, A State of Mind or Peace Love Happiness (yes, it is a real band) to get involved.

There was no common point between Trial and Crucifix musically however. Where Crucifix were blending US hardcore energy with Discharge relentlessness, Trial were a moodier bunch that does not fail to remind one of vintage British anarchopunk bands of the same time. Beside John on vocals, the band was made up of Desmond on the bass (he actually also contributed to an early version of Faith No More, as did Jake Crucifix), Rip on the guitar (he also played in A State of Mind) and Jason on the drums. If there were any justice in this world, this Ep would be considered an absolute classic of US anarchopunk and one of peacepunk's most memorable moments of brilliance and I would be invited to do conferences all over the world (I am pretty cheap too, just an alright couch and a bag of crisps). There were not that many mid-paced, dark anarcho acts in the States in the 80's, or rather, not many that would fit today's definition of a "mid-paced, dark anarcho band", and seeing that there are a lot of current US bands purportedly playing "dark anarchopostpunk", one would have thought that a band like Trial would have benefited retroactively from this resurgence. But no. What a strange world...  

Musically, we are deep in the moodiness that characterized the most somber shores of the UK anarchopunk territories and I am strongly reminded of bands like Reality Control, Blood Robots or Alternative, with a distinctly darker tone reminiscent of Rudi Peni, The Mob or Part 1. Not exactly joyful, I'll give you that, but extremely catchy. The mid-paced "Inborn system" has a morose and melancholy tuneful tone - almost macabre yet danceable - that works very well and may also point in the deathrock direction (which would make sense for a Californian band), "From the sky..." is faster with the typical anarcho tribal beat and sounds like the perfect cross between Omega Tribe and Vex (but with an American accent), and finally "Is this to be?" (Discharge reference?) is a slow, haunting number with surf-like guitar and a demented atmosphere that would fit nicely on a 13th Chime record. The bass lines are melodic, driving and aptly somber, the guitar is scratchy and dark as expected, the drumming is solid and tasteful and the vocals are neither quite sung nor quite spoken, conferring the song a spontaneous feel of brooding despair and righteous teenage outrage, aka on the proverbial punk edge. This is a brilliant Ep and a rare occurrence of an 80's American band going for the typical UK sound of The Mob, Zounds and all (The Apostates also come to mind but they were a later band). Pretty unique if you ask me.  

The aesthetics of the record itself are ripe with peacepunk symbols and slogans, so much so that you could pretty much play a Crass-themed bingo (the band came up with the awesome logo depicting a peace symbol turned into a ticking clock). From the dove on the cover (for some shite reason, the former owner scribbled something next to it...) to the adamant anti-military booklet provided with the Ep, the poignant pacifist imagery, the gruesome war pictures, the countless slogans on the whole foldout cover, the long poem of self-liberation... "I question, thereby I avoid their grasp. I seek freedom, thereby I escape the ignorance which I am told is reality." There is a lot to read on this one and there are tiny details you will probably not catch the first time around. While some of it is naive and idealistic, I do appreciate the honesty, the sincerity and the vulnerability permeating it all and how the visual aspect of the record and the political content it conveys are as important and relevant as the music (this notion of "music as artistic militancy" was central to peacepunk). Apparently, Trial's live performances were enhanced with visual components such as banners, slideshows, film loops and so forth which gave a dark apocalyptic atmosphere to the experience (and probably distracted the audience from the musical fuck-ups too).    

Following this Ep, Trial released the Moments of Collapse Lp in 1986 with Carolyn (formerly in Treason, A State of Mind and Sleeping Dogs) on the guitar, an excellent and inventive postpunk/goth album full of introspective politics and dark tunes that is worth your while. Certainly different from the Ep but definitely a solid record.

So... Who's up for a Trial discography? There must be some demo recordings somewhere, right?  

Trial

The Tumult of a Decad (part 4): Reality Control "The reproduction of Hate" Ep, 1983

The reproduction of hate, the black loneliness of fear, the blind helplessness of the young, whose only eyes are above them. The installation of bitter contempt at the moment of birth, the reproduction and the willing acceptance of hate, shaped and moulded like clay, to become a machine, strapped and muted by self-oppression. This is life, yet it is no life. The reproduction of hate, the conveyor belt of death in the factory of war. The reproduction of war - the complete destruction of man, woman, and all of their kind.

Not bad for a bunch of 16 year-olds. Not bad at all indeed. Of course, such a statement must be read and understood in the broader context of the British anarchopunk scene of the early 80's and, even more so, in the light of the harsh political climate that permeated the kingdom at that time, namely Thatcher's pointless war in the Falklands. But as much as a particular work reveals its essence when seen through the appropriate lens of time and place, I feel the words of Reality Control embodied perfectly the teenage angst, the outrage and this kind of empathetic anger that defined political punk worldwide in the 80's, like the Geordie version of a universally shared feeling. 

In a sensible world, Reality Control would be hailed as "a classic anarcho band". If our minds were fueled with critical thinking, open-mindedness and a healthy spirit of enquiry, instead of a cheap thirst for validation and a lazy obedience to fads, you would probably be able to see RC shirts and patches at any given DIY punk festivals (and if there weren't any, you would know that you were at the wrong kind of punk festivals with the wrong kind of punx, which is always a useful information, although one that usually comes too late). Simply put, 1983's The reproduction of hate stands as one of the best anarchopunk Ep's of the early 80's and judging from the quality of the band's demo from the following year (the greatly-named While we live in cages), RC definitely had a strong, no, a classic album in them and I dare anyone to listen to "The highest bidder" or "Sugar and spice" and deny it (I'll censor your comments anyway, I can't lose). Perhaps the rather moderate popularity of the band has something to do with their location, geographically known as Newcastle-upon-Tyne but proverbially referred to as "up North" by Londoners. I will be honest. Before I got into punk, the only thing I knew about Newcastle was Alan Shearer. But since my life-changing conversion to Crass, Discharge and lectures about the evilness of meat-eating, it has become apparent that the area was - and still is - ripe with top punk bands. Although the decentralizing idea of "think globally, act locally" inherent to anarchopunk certainly spawned many young bands and people to become involved in their own towns (and RC undeniably were through the infamous Gateshead Music Collective and The Station which played a crucial role in shaping the scene there), England being such a centralized country, thus impacting not only the music production but also how it is perceived culturally, must have affected the whole punk dynamics of the time and the subsequent canonization of some at the expense of others (and coming from Paris, I can easily imagine how it works).

But then, fate also stroke. Blame the naivety of youthfulness or maybe just ignorance but the standard reaction to the cover of The reproduction of hate is always - with variations that have to do with levels of linguistic fluency - the following: "OMG but why did they pick the same cover as Amebix' No Sanctuary? I mean, lol, right?". Of course, No Sanctuary was actually released just a few months after The reproduction of hate, in November, 1983, but the image has become so closely associated with Amebix that, even knowing so, it is difficult to dissociate it from this legendary band, without mentioning the fact that No Sanctuary was a Spiderleg record which meant that it was more widely available. Even I cannot help but think about Amebix when looking at RC's Ep. Talk about ingrained images. 

Like most of my generation (I presume), I first came across RC through the 2006 compilation cd Anti-Society which opened with "Forgive us", a song lifted from the band's first demo The happy face, recorded in early '83. Of course, I loved it and the introductory shouts to the song, "Money! Pay! Sin! Preach! Lies! War! Suck! Leech!", were all instant winners. This number is a catchy and tuneful one, a bit like a sloppy-but-passionate blend of Omega Tribe, Zounds and Chron Gen, but the rest of the demo also demonstrated that the band could pen moodier, darker songs as well as more dissonant and layered postpunk ones (like the ominous "But has it won?"). Although The happy face was thinly produced and not deprived of artistic flaws (to put it nicely), it certainly showed that the boys were quite ambitious in terms of songwriting. The reproduction of hate Ep would confirm this in the best way possible. 

Thanks to a more focused sound and a raw but adequate production, it managed to capture the different moods and emotions of the music perfectly. Recorded in July, 1983, and released soon after on Volume Records (a local label that belonged to a record store of the same name that also put out Toy Dolls and Total Chaos records), it included three glorious songs, "Sunny outlook", "Another sunrise" and "Man (reproduce)". The first two, both on side A, should probably be seen as the two faces of a same story since they deal with the same topic - the Falklands war - but from different angles and they adopt darker, more melancholy sounds and textures. "Sunny outlook" is told from the perspective of the war propaganda during the conflict and how people are made to be proud of the national heroes and of the derelict British Empire, while "Another sunrise" is the band's reaction toward and criticism of the war, its hypocritical atrocities and the warlike mentalities. Pretty smart move lyrically and the songs echo with each other very well too, both mournful and angry mid-paced dark punk numbers that remind Omega Tribe's moodier moments, Demob, The Mob and Zounds. On the flipside, the song "Man (reproduce)" is a different kind of animal though, much punchier and punkier in an Anthrax-meets-Alternative way and it might be my favourite of the Ep. After an eerie intro, the song bursts into an energetic punk-rock anthem with the catchiest riff and fantastic vocals that sound urgent and slightly insane, especially with the breathless voice of the singer, as if he were overwhelmed by the subject - it being the endless reproduction of injustice and oppression - and could barely contain his outrage. Brilliant example of the relation between form and content here. After this upbeat part, the song then evolves into fast and snotty punk-rock graced with gratuitous shouts (and I bloody love those) before ending with the initial eeriness of the intro. A genuine anarchopunk hit that even the tunelessness of the bass cannot damage. The band's aspiration to write articulate punk songs able to convey several emotions can be seen in the way the two guitars complete each other, again not unlike in Omega Tribe's work, so that the songs always remain rhythmical and tuneful at the same time, and to achieve that RC certainly compensated a relative lack of musical proficiency with seriously though-out songwriting. And how punk is that? 

Following this piece of magic, RC recorded the aforementioned While we live in cages demo in early '84, which saw them in an even darker and progressive mood, not unlike All the Madmen's bands like Flowers in the Dustbin or Null And Void for instance or even Alternative or The Lost Cherrees. The band then released a split flexi with their local partners in crime Blood Robots (a band that shared a lot of similarities with RC and that I rate at least as high) which included the song "Tears of blood", which for all its melancholy, its intensity and its beautiful tunes might be their crowning glory.

But in 2017, the best thing about Reality Control is that you can get their discography on vinyl and cd easily and for cheap thanks to Antisociety and Flat Earth Records. This is top-shelf, intelligent, and catchy anarchopunk. You know what you should do.             

The reproduction of hate

The Underdogs "East of Dachau" Ep, 1983

It appears that I don't like to make things easy for the TSN staff lately as today's record is yet another minor masterpiece from a band there is not much information about and that released just the one Ep... Well, it's not as bad as Social Disease, I could gather some bits here and there, like a scavenging archeologist. Although there is a tiny chapter about them in Burning Britain, the band is actually not interviewed and despite the size of Ian Glasper's contact book, I assume even he could not find their tracks or they just declined the invite. Perhaps the recent reissue of the band's two demos on vinyl, "Riot in Rothwell" and "East of Dachau", might trigger some renewed interest in the band as their repertoire was really strong and, above all, incredibly ahead of its time, but we'll come back to that later.

That the "East of Dachau" Ep remains to this day one of Riot City's lesser-known record baffles me, as it is definitely one of the label's most potent releases. Punk has always been full of such injustices that give cult status to average bands and drown genuinely great ones into anecdotal obscurity. The Underdogs were a Yorkshire band, from Rothwell, like The Expelled (a member of which would actually join The Underdogs at some point while another one provided backing vocals for the Ep), a town close to Abrasive Wheels' Leeds. The band didn't play for very long, for about three years, between 1981 and 1984, probably because "East of Dachau" didn't sell very well and their planned mini-album for Riot City never materialized because of financial issues (although it had already been recorded and is known as the "Riot in Rothwell" demo if I am correct). By 1984 anyway, the second-wave of British punk-rock was already losing momentum and it is hardly surprising that the label had run out of money and the ever-versatile public had already fallen out of love for punk-rock... During their lifetime, the band still played with the Upstarts, One Way System and Subhumans, thus proving that the boundary between so-called UK82 punk bands and anarchopunk ones was more permeable than it looked depending on where you lived.

The actual dates of recording of The Underdogs' works are pretty unclear as I have come across several contradictory pieces of information. They were all done between 1982 and 1983 but I haven't managed to clarify which songs belonged to which recording sessions... I first knew of The Underdogs about ten years ago through a cdr claiming to include two demos, but the order of the songs and the production quality don't seem to completely fit with the recent reissue... If anyone cares to clarify all this, I'd be very thankful, although, truth be told, it is not what really what matters the most about 1983's memorable "East of Dachau".

To be completely honest, and it hurts me to confess it, I had forgotten a little about The Underdogs until a mate of mine, who is every bit as obsessed with UK82 punk as I am, gave me his spare copy of the "East of Dachau" Ep. But he did it with a purpose in his mind as he told me "give this one a good listen and tell me it doesn't sound like No Hope For The Kids!". Now, that is a flabbergasting thing to say about a 1983 Riot City Ep, isn't it? And "flabbergasting" is such a terrific word to use, right? But anyway, I was astonished but also very excited as my friend usually speaks the truth when we talk about records, an activity we can do for hours without tiring. And you know what? He is bloody right. The song "East of Dachau" does sound like a No Hope for the Kids' unreleased hit. The crucial thing about this is not so much that the Danes were into The Underdogs when they were all the rage 10 years ago (they were always very British-sounding to my ears anyway), but that in a small Yorkshire town in 1983, some kids were rocking this moody brand of anthemic mid-tempo punk-rock that so many people, from very different punk backgrounds, have got into since NHFTK. It would be a tad ridiculous to say that The Underdogs were 25 years too early, but honestly, if you released a selection of their 10 best songs and say they were from Scandinavia circa 2010, I am convinced they would sell in a heartbeat (the boys would have to look a bit trendier though, with plaid shirts and big badges, spiky hair don't really sell in that field).

A bit like Demob or The Samples, The Underdogs were this kind of bands that could effortlessly pen cracking, anthemic punk-rock song that were energetic but kept an almost melancholy edge. "East of Dachau" is really to die for, it is passionate, dark and intense, one of the best British punk-rock songs of that decade, without a doubt. And it sounds so modern too. The melodies on the guitar are incredibly ahead of the band's time and no one sang quite like U.G. at the time, with his rough, yet emotional, warm tone. There is something of Depraved and even Leatherface in The Underdogs as well, albeit in a sloppier and more direct form. Of course, their primary influences were the first wave of British punk-rock and you can tell that bands like The Clash, The Neurotics or Stiff Little Fingers must have inspirational in the way they wrote music. And of course, there are numbers that are more typical of classic UK82 punk-rock with that 1-2-1-2 beat and the catchy chorus you can sing along to (like the song "Dead soldier" on the Ep). But there is also so much more to The Underdogs, especially in their approach to tunes, in how they conveyed their frustration in a beautiful, powerful fashion through incredibly catchy vocal works, smart songwriting, instinctive and yet refined guitar melodies, hooking bass lines and a heart-felt rendering of the Cold War era from the perspective of a teen from poverty-stricken Yorkshire. This band could and should have been huge.

I chose to include the "Riot in Rothwell" recording (or the version of it I have anyway) along with the "East of Dachau" Ep, because it contains unsung punk hits that were meant to be released and can appeal to a lot of us. So give them a go and if you bump into a copy of the "Punk demos collection", just get it. It could be 2016's best-spent tenner.

And thanks to Mike for giving me this Ep. You are a top geezer!

East of Dachau

 

 



  

Social Disease "Today" Ep, 1983

What would punk-rock be without Bristol? Now, that's a tough one to answer, but "cider-free" was one of the first things that come to my mind. And what would it sound like? Duller, quite probably, as this city strikes me as having a seemingly endless supply of punk snot. One things is certain: a parallel dimension where Chaos UK, Disorder and Amebix would never have existed does not sound worth visiting.

Social Disease were one of the lesser names in the early 80's Bristol punk scene and information about the band is sparse at best. After all, punk was the fashion of the day back then, it is therefore hardly surprising that so many bands sprang from that specific context, some absolutely brilliant, others quite forgettable, but all of them relevant to their own time and place. Many current bands strive to recreate this 80's sound and vibe, but it is always in vain, because punk-rock today is no longer new and you can't possibly imitate a 16-year old's excitement at novelty, especially a provocative, outrageous one. Could the incredible energy of Social Disease's Ep be resurrected in a studio in 2016? It might, but only for a bunch of angry teens looking to make a noise, and the chances that the end result won't sound punk are sky-high.

So what did a band with a rather common moniker like Social Disease do so well? Why does the "Today" Ep deserve to be seen as a UK82 hit? It is a minor classic, by its reach, but the quality of the songs could have made it a major one. I suppose it got lost in the midst of the dozens of punk records that were also released in 1983 but above all, them coming from Bristol and not being part of the Riot City rosters had to be an obstacle. Even Lunatic Fringe had had a song on "Riotous Assembly". I can't tell if Social Disease got out of Bristol at all or even if they played a lot locally. If anyone knows anything about them, please enlighten me.

There was one thing that really set Social Disease apart though, something that is pretty common today but was very unusual at the time: they had two singers. Of course, they were not the only band to use several vocalists. Crass, obviously, used different singers, although usually in separate songs ("Bloody revolution" is pretty much an exception when you really think about it), and so did The Violators, but again, almost always in distinct songs. I have already mentioned that 82/83-era Antisect was probably the first punk band to have two singers on duty on most of their songs, thus opening the door for the time-honoured, beloved trade-off style of vocals that bands like ENT and Disrupt built upon. But Social Disease used a different tactic, it was not "to each its song" or trade-off, it was "all the time and at the same time". In fact, the two singers Hag and Drakes' voices are constantly superimposing, blending, so that, at first, you almost get the impression that there are two vocal tracks instead of two different singers. But the picture at the back of the Ep tells a different story as it clearly shows two young punks shouting exactly the same thing at the same time. And you know what? It works perfectly, as the vocals are very tuneful but keep a spontaneously angry edge, and it adds the necessary youthful energy and intensity that makes a UK82 record great.

The production on "Today" is great, very clear, and it conveys the band's spirit to great effect. In terms of beat, the two songs "Tomorrow's burning" and "Today" borrow the vigorous mid-tempo of classic UK punk, while "Bully boys", with its Motörhead-like guitar riff, and, the highlight of the Ep with a catchy chorus to die for, "World at ransom" lie on the faster side of things. This is snotty, tuneful, high-energy, angry and fast UK82 punk-rock, somewhere between Instant Agony, Varukers and The Actives. Social Disease's 1982 "Utter nutter" demo, which, I would venture, was more a roughly recorded band practice on a boozy saturday, did show some promise but was by no means an accurate representation of the band's potential in a real studio. The lyrics are not included with the Ep (which apparently was usual for the genre) but my Chaos UK-trained ears teach me that the boys were ranting about the inevitability of nuclear war and bullies (another common theme as it must have been hard to be a young punk in England's rough areas).

"Today" was Karnage Records' only release and there is a mistake on the cover as it indicates that side 1 only includes the song "Today", whereas "Tomorrow's burning" is also on this side (DIY or what?). Judging from the one very short Social Disease interview I could find, the band was perhaps closer to anarchopunk than their Riot City peers (I mean, they do have a peace symbol on the cover). They thank Mark from The Snipers (who did probably my least favourite Crass Records Ep but let's not dwell on that) on the backcover and Hag has the Snipers painted on his leather jacket next to a Crass patch. That's the little insight I can provide. Well, they also thank their mums and dads so they were probably not orphans as well.

This Ep is terrific, it will make you feel like a teenager and drink cider, though not necessarily in that order.

Today