Earlier this year I reviewed Leeds’ pop-punk band daisy graves’ song ‘grapejuice’ and it broke through my fairly long term thing of pop-punk just not being mything. I was bowled over, charmed by what was, to be absolutely honest, a sweet and lovely song. And don’t you know it, daisy graves have gone and done it again.

‘daisy’ is a song of ‘tribute to a close family member, an outpouring of love and a promise that they will forever be cared for’. Now what you might expect a song about this to sound like I have not the slightest, but for me I have to admit I didn’t quite expect it to sound like this.

The sound is pop-punk; choppy loud guitars, drums to the max, vocals to 11. Well it’s this most of the time. For it’s the frankly shimmering dropout that makes this song, that makes you sit up and listen. And then you hear the words, the words that are personal, that tell a real story. These words sound like they are just the things you might say put to music but they are all the better for that. They bring a smile to your face at times, they impress with the power of real emotion that you can bloody feel.

So for me it’s what the song’s about and the words that won me over AND then I found myself loving the music. Because it makes you want to dance, it makes you want to lose your shit. My helpful friend said ‘Frank, forgive me while I throw myself around my room’ when I played it to her. And bearing in mind that we were on video chat – me here, her in New York – for the next 3½ minutes all I got was infrequent glimpses as she did throw herself around the room. I won’t repeat what she said when she’d calmed down and actually listened to the words but it was kinda what I said just not exactly like I said it.

Anyway, the song sounds brilliant. It does, as I said, all those pop-punk things you expect but somehow it does it in a way that sounds like what the song is about. And this is a band who can play. Sure it’s not flashy but it’s aggressive, raw and raucous, and everything is completely and utterly right. If all pop-punk songs sounded like this, I just might be converted.

Look I kinda think I’ve made this more complicated than a review of this should be, but it has the depth to do that, so that’s my excuse. So putting this simply ‘daisy’ is fabulous, it compels lyrically, it rocks musically, It makes you smile, it tugs at your heart-strings and it makes you want to lose your shit. Do you honestly bloody need anything else?

No Wukkas you have twisted my head, you have turned my world upside down. Sorry, just going off on one there, I’d better explain. It’s because ‘Business Fella’ has kind of taken me back to a time when I went to see bands who could probably be described as ‘free festival bands’ mixed with the odd Prunk band – short for Prog-Punk – either way out there punk or Prog played loud and faster and crazy.

In particular ‘Business Fella’ comes with – to me anyway – a large dose of THE Prunk band Cardiacs – ranting vocals, raving fast guitars, sax and somewhat weird keyboards – and Here & Now – darlings of the free festival scene and friends of the Gong family, punky semi-improvised acid rock in the late 70s, moving onto something harder than that with vast doses of reggae and dub in the 80s. Forgive me while I relive my life, oh the injuries I caused myself at Here & How gigs.

But you see ‘Business Fella’ isn’t JUST that, it’s a huge dose of the way-outness of Roky Erickson’s solo work – the founding member and leader of ‎The 13th Floor Elevators – all ranting and shouting, John’s Children and something of The Prodigy.

This is turning into some sort of lecture here, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to. But all of the bands and artists I’ve referred to are well worth checking out.

The thing is, and I’ve said this before, what you hear might be different, and that’s OK. Bands influence bands who influence bands who… well you get the idea. And with every generation of bands new things are added. Another merging of influences happens. And this is why No Wukkas (At last back to the subject in hand, Frank – Ed) are so bloody good, their music is unashamedly music that comes from somewhere, they acknowledge their influences, while at the same time being of now.

Overwhelmingly fast guitars, keyboards taken to a point of death, drive the joy that is ‘Business Fella’, ranting vocals, drumming that must have had the drummer close to collapse, abrupt changes in tempo, weird echoey vocals. A wall of out-there sound that almost, but doesn’t, become psych-garage. This is music to throw yourself around to, to lose yourself in.

And yet – and forgive me again for this – like Here & Now – No Wukkas don’t do songs that aren’t about something. The band say:

‘Business fella’ is an apocalyptic alt rock anthem (I politely disagree with that, it’s alt-rock only in that it isn’t mainstream rock) centred around a lone figure oblivious to the end of the world… his track’s ferocious power matches the real world angst that comes from ignored climate pleas’

So as I said it’s about something. Something important and of now. Here & Now, by the way, did songs that were about the late 70s world of Thatcher governed Britain (the now then i you get what I mean); the violence of the Special Patrol Group – a police unit that ‘poiiced’ demos, festivals, and other bastions of the alternative world with what might be called a heavy hand, ditching your stash because you might be subject to a ‘sus’ stop and search, and the approaching inferno of civil disobedience. Now it is different (or is it?), No Wukkas reflect the world now.

All of this is to get me to a point (and yes, there is a point to what might seem like pointless wandering words) where I could put this song into a context of now that includes the past, and possibly the future. This song, and their music in general, does this. The subject of the song does this.

The other reason for doing this is that I am frequently approached by people of my age, musical history and life experiences who say that there’s no music like the music they used to listen to, and that’s why they still go and see the ‘old bands’. Well, here is one band they could relate to, enjoy, get into to; because No Wukkas’ music has things they could recognise.

This, people. is a joy, protest songs have not been this groovy and cool for ages. It rages lyrically and musically, it’s a maelstrom of sound that literally takes your breath away. And yet it isn’t meaningless directionless sound, there is a beautiful structure and music played with a fluency that is outstanding. This is brilliant, fucking brilliant. Get into this now, right now, no excuses.

Ómoia are a new band to me; I have to admit that I am very happy to have the opportunity to review this release, it’s a banging song.

The band’s is, I admit, hard to fit into a ‘convenient music reviewers’ niche but I have a deep liking for music that’s hard to describe, so I’ll give it a go.‘Beyond These Eyes’ has a hint of indie rock, alt-rock, big huge pop, metal, intimate pop and finally a glorious dose of just plain strange – in a good way of course. To my ears the sound goes way beyond the alternative rock and metal the band say. But this isn’t surprising there bands that do big synth pop that’s heavy, a sense of pop has drifted in melodic metal, there’s so much mixing of genres going on that genres can almost be meaningless.

That’s a lot to break down – take a big breath Frank – let’s go. It starts in a kinda danceable indie/alt rock way, yep you can dance to the start. And then it blast into soaring rock that is tipping into metal, to be followed in a sort of alt-rock way with a quiet bit. And then just out there off-kilter guitar before leaping with everything they’re got into pure Heavy Metal. It’s a journey people, a wonderful journey.

The thing is that the sound isn’t as broken up as I might be giving the impression it is. It’s seamless, a progression of ever changing sounds that all makes glorious sense. And over this is a voice, a voice that compels and mesmerises with vocal twists and turns – at times it’s searing, at times gently almost folky and at times doing that big synth rock pop thing. And the power, it shines. But this isn’t just about the vocals because the whole band displays a musical ability that is jaw droppingly good. Guitars roar, guitars go all spikey, guitars do incredibly subtle. The bass is more, much more, than just a rhythm thing, this is a lead instrument. And the drums, the drums are musical, clever, moving from dense to almost playful. It’s one of those tracks where you hear something new every time you listen. AND THIS IS A VERY GOOD THING.

And yet there is something else. THis track does melody; you can hum along to it; pretty frantically at times I admit but there’s a tune as well as the utter power of it. AND THIS IS ANOTHER GOOD THING.

The song is about ‘the stresses of living a false life, hiding ones true emotions behind a facade, and how these things can be very emotionally and physically draining’. And the words are good, they deserve closer listening. This isn’t a throwaway rock song with words there just to have a voice over the music. And, in a way I just can’t put my finger on, the words are reflected in the sound.

So what we have here in ‘Beyond These Eyes’ is a rock song with subtlety, that’s clever, that’s emotional and incredibly compelling. There’s no doubt it’s powerful, loud and heavy but it’s the seasoning of the other feels that make it so good. Yep, you could point to some obvious comparisons – but at times because the next moment it changes, it goes to an expected place. And this is the sheer joy of the track.

Go listen, you won’t regret it.

And by the way, take a listen on headphones – but not in the street because people will look at you strangely when you leap about – because it there you hear all of those subtle and clever things that make the power of this track.

Any band that describes themselves as an alt-rock band drawing inspiration from a lot of alt-country, folk & shoegaze – as did Sheffield’s Since Torino – have already made more than one step towards a review. For any bands out there thinking of doing the same, you better back that up with the sound; fortunately Since Torino sound exactly like that.

The song starts out sounding like Bob Dylan doing a country folk waltz with the unexpectedly beautiful addition of mouth organ, gently plucked guitar. And then there’s a voice – it’s fragile, delicate, the sound of a small voice in your head. At this point not even a minute in, I’m choked up, I’m already moved emotionally. And then gently the guitars come in, the sound has moved into shoegaze but so softly you don’t even realise. The effect is to wrench at your heart. But there, somewhere there, is that same tune that is at the start of the track. It builds to climax and ends intriguingly on bass notes.

The whole does something to me that not many bands do – two to mention are the now broken up Pepe Sylvia, and Leed’s band shaene, both of whom have elements of folk,country and shoegaze – it contacts so deeply and emotionally that it leaves me drained. Part of this is the music, of course it’s played gorgeously, and part of this is the words that tell what sounds like a very personal story. But, you see it isn’t, it’s the whole; somehow the magic of this is that the two parts somehow make something bigger.

Although I described the vocal as fragile, I should really be applying this to the song. It’s fragile, ragged and jagged at the edges. It speaks and sounds like disappointment and weary acceptance. The song speaks of the passing of time, and the changes that time brings. And it does this musically, lyrically, vocally and any other way you want it to.

I’ve said this before, and shall probably say it again, there are times I’m so grateful I write for LSF because not only do I get to hear things I probably wouldn’t have heard otherwise, and I get to encourage you to hear them too. This is one of those times.

‘Snow’ is overwhelming emotionally, it’s jaw droppingly good musically. It is so-so beautiful. This is one you all need to hear.