Monday, 10 December 2012

The Atomic Tanlines - demo / Nü-klē-ər Blast Suntan - The Wheel of Fate is Turning 7" EP

These two bands don't really sound anything like each other, but I just thought I'd review them together because of the coincidence of their name. Both are great names juxtaposing, the healthy glow of the summer outdoors, with the irradiated buzz of Discharge's favourite topic, 50s paranoia and 50s beach-movies all in one. NBST tart it up with an entirely over-the-top use of umlauts and schwas, which is awesome, because it looks fucking cool and pronunciation guides are always handy, this one apparently aimed at that GWB 'nucular' mangling. The Atomic Tanlines add another level of uncouthness beyond the radiation poisoning, I mean, it's all well and good catching some rays from the dying-star we call a sun in the harsh post-apocalyptic contaminated nothingscape, but keep an even tan, people! Don't be so fucking gauche about it! The Atomic Tanlines play a style of unencumbered queercore punk rock where they're equally at happy with an abrasive brief frustration blast screaming FUCK MY REPRODUCTIVE DUTY!!! or the stop-start fury of Skank Around which cuts between power-violence speed thrash and ominous stalk of something like the opening of JFA's Beach Blanket Bongout, along with a couple of anger-tight danceable late-FYP punk rockers like Comatose, which clips along with handclaps and fucking everything! They also have a contender for song title of the year in BDSM vs. Tupac, which drives along with rock-and-roll swagger like a mid-period New Bomb Turks song, anchored to the vocals which have that Alice Bag ability where a smoothly-sung line threatens at any time to explode into a scream, and a line can twist between sarcastic and dismissive and celebratory call-to-arms in the space of a second.

Nü-klē-ər Blast Suntan are way heavier, atmospheric crustpunk, which distuingishes itself with the squealing needle of the guitar which bursts out of the Nausea Punk Terrorist attack, and almost rips the song to shreds in the middle of White Wolf, before the thundering riffs return again, improbably faster and crazier than before in order to burn out the song. Searing chaotic crust noise that only ever slows down just to show you how it's gonna fucking hit you before it punches you in the eye with its clattering hardcore onslaught. There are two songs on side-B of this thing but you have to be really paying attention to know where the switch is as this is the sort of tearing intensity that brooks no fucking niceties like song gaps.

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