Samiamā€™s first album back together after a hiatus of six years is a fair cracker. Vocalist Jason Beebout had gotten so out of practice during the time spent apart that he ended up redoing some of the early takes once he got back in the swing of things, but that extra effort certainly pays off, with his full-bodied delivery being one of the albumā€™s strengths ā€“ especially on album opener When Weā€™re Together (which also features a killer melody and so much energy youā€™d swear theyā€™d been bottling it up solely for that track for six years). And although guitarist and main songwriter Sergie Loobkoff has kept his hand in during the interim writing brilliant gems for indie supergroup of sorts Solea, two of the most memorable tracks on Whateverā€™s Got You Down (the aforementioned When Weā€™re Together and Believer, which begins delicately but features a chorus big enough to demolish Tokyo) were actually penned by guitarist Sean Kennerly, who wasnā€™t even in the band for releases such as 1997ā€™s You Are Freaking Me Out.

Thereā€™s a lot to love about this album. Beeboutā€™s passionate delivery and evocative lyrics top the list, but the way the strong melody lines work equally well with both the bandā€™s punk energy and their indie rock sensibilities is also irresistible.

The punchy chorus of Do You Want To Be Loved complements its more plaintive verses, while the crashing drums and jittery guitars of Anything are simultaneously sweet and aggressive. The oppressive beginning to Storm Clouds opens expansively into a chorus that embraces you without reservation, and Come Home, while more plodding in its pace and featuring a markedly restrained vocal performance, is an equally essential part of the overall Samiam picture, adding even more emotional depth to the album.

Some reunions prompt listeners to question why they bothered; Whateverā€™s Got You Down makes you question why Samiam ever stopped making music in the first place.

Owen Heitmann

Gallowsā€™ debut is a brutal album. I donā€™t mean brutal on the ears (although the UK quintetā€™s brand of hardcore punk is unrelenting) so much as brutal on the mind. Frank Carterā€™s bilious vocals convey like few others the sound of a man clearly at the end of his tether. His is no melodramatic affectation of angst, but rather the unmistakable sound of genuine rage. The sleeve notes testify to the problems the band suffered during recording ā€“ death, violence, theft, betrayal ā€“ and these misfortunes are reflected in the songs, whether cloaked by metaphor (In The Belly Of A Shark) or completely undisguised (the accusatory Stay Cold).

The rabidly intense vocals and lyrics sit atop a taut framework of churning guitars offering at times quite intricate riffs, volatile bass, and precise drums that switch tempos on a dime (Kill The Rhythm). However, in this breakdown-heavy context the outfit still manages to retain a sense of melody, such that occasional keyboards by guitarist Laurent Barnard (as on Rolling With The Punches) donā€™t seem out of place.

The malevolent Just Because You Sleep Next To Me Doesnā€™t Mean Youā€™re Safe and Will Someone Shoot That Fucking Snake (which also features a keyboard riff alongside the down-tuned guitars) confirm that anyone who likes The Bronx will thrill to the ferocity of this record, while establishing that Gallows arenā€™t trying to be anyone but themselves.

The savage sentiments of the title track wrap the release, and this song more than any other leaves me shaking and exhausted simply from listening to it. The album as a whole is like a gale blowing away the cobwebs that have grown over UK hardcore. Itā€™s devastating, itā€™s sincere, itā€™s cathartic and, make no mistake, itā€™s brilliant. Unmissable.

Owen Heitmann

American Born Chinese
Gene Luen Yang
First Second
240 pages

Gene Yangā€™s brightly-coloured graphic novel examination of cultural identity alternates on a chapter-by-chapter basis between three apparently unconnected stories: a retelling of Chinese fable Journey To The West (known to 1980s Australian kids as the ABC TV series Monkey); a slice-of-life dramedy about Chinese-American Jin Wang dealing with a new school and his first crush (on an American girl); and a third story, constructed like a sitcom (complete with laugh track), about popular high-schooler Dannyā€™s attempts to cope with a reputation-crushing visit from his cousin Chin-Kee, a living embodiment of the worst Chinese stereotypes.

With a complexity belied by the simple art style, Yangā€™s elaborately-structured narrative leads to a major pay-off, inducing both laughs and cringes along the way. Very impressive, and almost impossible to put down.

Owen Heitmann