Oi, street punk, hardcore, and dub. Sure to draw comparisons to The Clash’ masterwreck, Sandinista!, but The Boils offer a comprehensive and cohesive epic.
These guys sound like they’re stylistically kicking the crap out of The Strokes while smoking Stone Temple Pilots’ cigarettes and listening to the Marvelous 3.
Delicate but not fragile hooks, airy but not ethereal production, ornate but not orchestral string accompaniment, all coming together around bulletproof tunes.
One vocalist dead and another “You are dead to me,” Gary Holt keeps it alive with Rob Dukes. Like the thrash purity of Peter Dolving returning to The Haunted.
Sad rock/Goth rock with keys, guitar chugging (without being doom, or remotely close), this is full-bodied melodic, moody rock with a passionate vocalist.
Expecting Fiona Apple-ish, mainstream “girl group slick pop,” I was elated to hear The Ditty Bops’ spin on ragtime/jazz swing/cabaret for the 21st century.
Jupiter & Antenna were epic albums with delectable melodies at their hearts. Perfect Pitch Black hypnotically repeats refrains and riffs, leaving melody behind.