I stumbled across Collapse largely by accident over a year ago, when they were supported by The Swear at the Bull & Gate. I was expecting an emotionally-fuelled performance from The Swear, as it was then bassist Angus' last gig with the band, and got it, but was I hadn't expected was the fractious noise disco provided by the nights headliners. At the time it was like nothing I'd heard before.

Fast forward 14 months, and suddenly we've got a host of upcoming bands, Test-Icicles, iForward Russia!, etc walking the same ground, and doing rather well for themselves out of it (Test-Icicles' single 'Boa vs Python' is sitting pretty at number 26 in the mid-week charts as I write this), but things have stalled for Collapse following a breakdown of relations with label 1234 Records, so they've decided to release this EP themselves, and thank god they have.

Opener 'Beacon/Receptor' is the pick of the bunch, with a glorious intro of rattling drumsticks and punk-funk guitars leading into yelped vocals and an apocalyptic breakdown, before rising again from the maelstrom to re-ignite the dancefloor. It sounds like The Rapture being forced into a blender (now there's an idea).

Second track 'Modern Cities' starts off rather quieter with sparse echoing guitars intertwining sweetly, before a colossal bassline interrupts proceedings and brings on the noise once more. 'Moving Backward' sees the return of the bass leviathan, this time pairing it with twitchy rhythms and a desperate vocal struggling to make itself heard above the fuzz-addled low end.

The EP ends with the cryptically titled '--------/--- (---)', which is as sonically confusing as it's title suggests, snippets of sound floating in and out of focus, but ultimately not really going anywhere. It's the one time when the band's pretensions get the better of them, and not the ending that an EP of this quality and vision deserves.

Zombina and the Skeletones play music in a style which is close to impossible to fit to a handy lable. It's a mix of 50's rocknroll, ska, garage band, new wave, punk, glam rock and blues - if there is such a thing. There is an obvious influence from early horror cinema, and pop cinema in general in their music (see 'Spring Heeled Jack'). Hints of The Revillos, the B-52s, The Cramps and Madness can also be heard in their undoubtedly 'fun' music.

The four track EP kicks off with 'Zombie Hop', a creepy, very danceable song, fueled by piercing organ sound and powerful female vocals. The track is brought together by the harmonious backing vocals, crashing drums, guitars and bassline. A very well knit piece of music.

The second installment of the EP, track 2; 'The New Orleans Incident' again almost forces you to get out of your seat and dance. The piano keys on the intro remind me of the 'funnybones' books that I first learnt to read with, and Zombina probably knew this. Their music uses pop culture to their advantage, reminding us of films, tv, books, toys, etc. we may come accross one day, or already have. A clever way to gain and keep a listener's focus.

The last two songs follow with similar conventions as the first two, creating very fun, very danceable, very decent music, we all should give a listen. Zombina and the Skeletones, from their music to their mise-en-scene (if your lucky enough to catch them live) are true garage vamp's. The EP is even rounded off with a creepy faux movie
advert for the EP, narated by the same low/murmerring voice that introduces the 5 trailers you watch everytime you rent a video from blocky-b's. class.

Review by Thomas Highstreet
www.zombina.com
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And indeed there is much here for fans of the dearly missed Welsh madmen in the screeched vocals and driving basslines, but that doesn't go anywhere near telling the whole story. While Mclusky chose to fuse The Fall's chaotic punk template with witty, and occasionally rambling lyrical insights and an indie sensibility; Alamos take the same foundations, but add in danceable beats and Franz-ish guitars, aimed at the feet rather than the head, and they do it all rather smashingly. Not a Mclusky substitute then, but a viable alternative, which ultimately is probably for the best.

Demo opener 'What Jim Hears' easily put's paid to any concerns with it's wiry, tightly spun, post-punk stomp that's punctuated seemingly randomly with sections of serene post-rock. Weird, but it works and the inventiveness doesn't stop there. Check out the flamenco ending on 'Wing C, Ward 4' or the mad signature changes and off-kilter melodies of 'Moth To A Flame'. As if stacks of ideas and a knack for impressively complex song structures aren't already enough there's also a great pop sensibility at work here to. Strange then that O'fracas have yet to secure a deal but with music this good it's only a matter of time.

I might compare the ragged round the edges Cockney charms of The Dirty Pins' DIY punk malarkey to The Libertines, were it not for the fact that this absolutely pisses over anything the crack head and the other one ever produced in their thankfully brief time together.

'I Feel So Milton Keynes' perfectly encapsulates feelings of lethargy, disillusionment and depression in one insightful metaphor, and backs it up with Buzzcocks-y guitars and vocals that ramble wonderfully around them. This EP is sprinkled throughout with lyrical nuggets, none more so than on final track 'Spastic Society', which brings to mind sadly missed Detroit garage punkas The Pattern in its chugging guitars and yelped vocals, while 'What Shall We Do When The Disco's Over?' attempts a Beatles-style 'Aah, aah, aaaaah' intro before developing into a lilting lament for lost youth.

There's plenty of potential on show here, a mixture of wit and charisma that carries what could easily have been just another London punk band above the teeming masses of mediocrity that seem to have sprung up in the wake of the capital's DIY revolution.

Review by Paul Madden
www.thedirtypins.co.uk
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What I'm treated to is a glorious stomp of a pop song, with drums refusing to play a standard beat as they jerk and bounce all over the (sweet) shop adding a playful and joyously tricky stagger to the full and smiling vocal and choppy guitars that dance around on top of it. Somehow amongst all the swaying from side-to-side the track never loses its way, the said confident swagger obviously coming from the self-satisfied knowledge that they can play whatever awkward little tricks they want yet still manage to draw you in and make you long to listen again and sing along properly.

And so is the trick of a good pop song, managing to mix the comfortable and reassuring like a triumphant melody and bouncy beat, with unwieldy twists and turns that you wouldn't have expected, and somehow unite the easy with the awkward to create great pop music that makes you feel just that little bit more glad to be alive.
Sweet, sweet pop music perfect for a sunny August afternoon.

Salvo make loud aggressive, metal tinged grunge, of the sort that in other hands I would usually run a mile from before the first chorus, but for some reason Salvo manage to reel me in. perhaps it wakens a distant echo of my younger self that loved nothing more to jump around at the local rock night to Nirvana and Mudhoney; maybe its the dual shouty vocals that overlap and intertwine in ever more unexpected ways as this demo unfolds (especially effective during the drum break on 'A Million Watts'), or just the simple furious energy that pours from the speakers with every listen. Whatever it is that makes it, this is the perfect music to whack up the volume and jump around your bedroom hating the world to, and all of us need a little of that every now and again.

Review by Paul Madden
www.salvo-online.co.uk
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Sounding somewhere in between Noel Gallagher and Chris Martin Jonathan Rice couldn’t have arrived at a better time to unleash his blend of folk rock on the more than willing UK audience, already in the midst of a love affair with the likes of James Blunt, Damien Rice (no relation by the way) and Willy Mason. But has he got what it takes to distinguish himself from his acoustic counterparts.

‘Kiss Me Goodbye’ is the most upbeat track on the single and is a catchy little ditty although I can’t imagine it taking the charts by storm though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Reminiscent of Brendan Benson’s pop rock.

Second up ‘Maryann Is Lost’ is an acoustic folk song which though is delicate in its lyrics and melodies can appear somewhat bland, especially when compared to the Indie style of ‘Kiss me Goodbye’.

Final song ‘May the Road Rise to Meet You’ has a Lemonheads feel to it with a country undercurrent. The chorus reminds me a lot of a band that I recently saw at the Truck Festival, The Absentee.

Overall an enjoyable single but didn’t blow me way. He gives little indication of an originality needed to rise himself above other similar artists in an already overpopulated market.

Review by Robert Bassett
www.johnathanrice.com
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Four bands from two releases of the seven inch singles club on one C.D. and all for me:

First up is Being 747, with 'DIY Prescriptions', who remind me of all kinds of fuzzy, bangy, jerky art rock bands from my youth, which on this occasion is something I like being reminded of. Has the New Wave squelch of Rachel Stamp, the awkward melodies of Mo-Ho-Bish-O-Pi and the glam stomp of Mansun at their most boorish. A tale of self medication delivered via the means of repeated slogans and soundbites adds up to a fun way to pass the time, making three minutes vanish in the blink of an NHS spectacled eye.

Next we have The Lodger with what sounds to these jaded ears like a post-punk take on Graham Coxon, delivering a drawled and deadpan London vocal of alienation over insistent four-to-the-floor drums and clean funk-via-Johnny Marr guitar. A sombre contrast to the bombast of the first track, not too exciting, but heartfelt and picturesquely miserable all the same, leaving its gentle hooks swimming somewhere behind my forehead.

So those two bands made up the seventh release, and the next two were the eighth release:

Starting with Stuffy and The Fuses, a name I recognised from lots of people having mentioned them to me, but a band I've never heard myself and whom I don't have a clue how they sound because as usual I wasn't really listening when people did mention them to me. Anyway, an energetic snare attack leads in to the chorus, with its chants of how sir wants sex, and the open question of 'what you gonna do?', I'm quite eager to know. As I let the track led me on to an answer that never comes, I'm treated to a master class in dynamics, melody and harmony, avoiding needless repetition of sections and importantly how to make a good pop song's Rule Number 1, that is make it fucking short so I don't get bored. As the final refrain of 'no ones gonna believe you' bounces along all high and excited like a spotty teenager who's about to have sex for the first time with some mysterious older woman, with a simple ohhhhhhhhhh the song undramatically ends without warning before the two minute mark, leaving me no other option but to play it again. And so this gloriously spunky bundle of joy plays out for me one more time, leaving me a very happy boy indeed.

As the disc moves onto the fourth track I can't help thinking that I've peaked too soon and only an anti-climax can follow with The Secret Hairdresser. Though the la la la la la of the opening, and the synth growl that follows it in the build up to the verse makes me think otherwise. And when the verse kicks in I know I was wrong to be pessimistic, or maybe right to be pessimistic as I'm so gladly surprised, with another New Wave pop gem. Gooey and sinister and ending mercifully quickly again, before anything can happen to make me dislike it, with a sudden emptiness left behind just as I assumed the dark honey of a song to be in full swing. Another act who know the value of short and to the point, so another act to make me smile. Great dirty pop that ticks every box for me.

So not a bad track between the four bands, though I have to call the eighth release the winner, in what I seem to have needlessly turned into a contest with this last but one sentence. The pop perfection of Stuffy and The Fuses and The Secret Hairdresser having sharp sharp hooks currently locked into my brain that I really can't be bothered to try and pull out, so all in all; lovely.

Review by Daniel Newman
www.wrathrecords.co.uk
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With the long since demise of stadium sell outs Creed, could Switchfoot be the band to take on the easy listening soft rockers crown that their counter-parts left rusting in the metaphorical rain of arm raising anthemic choruses and horrific leather trousers?

Like Creed, Diego based Switchfoot are a contemporary Christian band, not the first section I’d run to in the record shop, but nevertheless I’ve always been one to keep an open mind, and they who seem to doing pretty well on the other side of the pond so I was looking forward to hearing this CD.

‘Dare You to Move’ isn’t a bad song, it begins with an acoustic verse reminiscent of ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls before entering into the simple yet annoyingly catchy chorus which reminds me of the Canadian band Our Lady Peace. The whole thing has the feel of a ‘paint by numbers’ soft rock song, nothing original and nothing that I think will make this the track to break them over here, despite the catchiness of the chorus.

If you like bands such as Lifehouse, Delirious and Creed then you’re probably already aware of Switchfoot, if you haven't, then check them out you may have just found your fourth favourite band.

Review by Robert Bassett
www.switchfoot.com
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