Damaged Goods

Review: Bug-eyed nerd punks straight outta Seattle, The Briefs, are still kicking and "Platinum Rats" presents their fifth LP and first since 2005's "Steal Yer Heart". Still the bleach-blonde punks they ever were, the album holds down a spirit and ethos that will get the nod of approval from the fans of the Sex Pistols, Rancid and Fat Wreck Chords et al. With most songs clocking in at two-and-a-half minutes, The Briefs shred their guitars inside a frenzy of noise could have made it to Epitaph had it been the late '90s wonder years of punk. Still, being 2019, they find themselves on the 30 years strong East London imprint Damaged Goods. The Briefs go supersized.

Review: Bug-eyed nerd punks straight outta Seattle, The Briefs, are still kicking and "Platinum Rats" presents their fifth LP and first since 2005's "Steal Yer Heart". Still the bleach-blonde punks they ever were, the album holds down a spirit and ethos that will get the nod of approval from the fans of the Sex Pistols, Rancid and Fat Wreck Chords et al. With most songs clocking in at two-and-a-half minutes, The Briefs shred their guitars inside a frenzy of noise could have made it to Epitaph had it been the late '90s wonder years of punk. Still, being 2019, they find themselves on the 30 years strong East London imprint Damaged Goods. The Briefs go supersized.

Review: INTRODUCING: The Shadracks, a three-piece jangle straight out of south eastern England. Harmonic distortion and an upbeat take on swinging, garage rock is how the band are making their name, with the surf rock of "Corinna" a highlight alongside the rolling drums and punky vocals of "Every Inch Of My Mind". With the band still full of a youthful, romantic angst, their debut opus sees the troupe scramble together a playful melee of amped guitars and loose drums to fit that perfect vintage feel.

Review: It doesn't get much bluesier than this new outing from the irrepressible Wild Billy and his sometime collaborators The Chatham Singers. You just need to hear a fraction of 'The Good Times Are Killing Me' to feel the blood, sweat and tears buried beneath the gutsy guitar work, staccato harmonica lines and drum stabs to picture a smoky, boozy bar scene somewhere in Nowheresville.

Laying claim to a catalogue of rough and ready business stretching back to the 1970s, Childish's formative adventures in punk can still be heard, offering a rawer edge than many of his blues contemporaries - which is saying something. Tracks like 'Main Line' boast the kind of cacophonies that fill rooms with frantic dancers, 'When I Was A Cowboy (Out On The Western Plains)' exemplifies a more journeyman side, while 'All My Feelings' and 'Ranscombe Farm Boogie' swing with freight train rhythms.