By the time a bandā€™s eighth full-length studio album rolls around, itā€™s usually less a case of wondering what it will sound like and more a matter of whether it will live up to previous releases. No Use For A Name are no exception to the rule, and this album finds them continuing to deliver the trademark melodic skate punk that the bandā€™s various lineups have honed over the past 20-odd years. The good news for fans is that theyā€™re pretty much at the top of their game, bouncing back into form after 2005ā€™s disappointing Keep Them Confused.

Biggest Lie breaks the ice with an incredible pace and is loaded with guitar solos; Pacific Standard Time, The Dregs Of Sobriety and I Want To Be Wrong are likewise full of rapid drums, big guitar melodies and vocal harmonies. Although the formula grows stale on a couple of track, for instance Under The Garden, variety comes with the memorably choppy Domino, rhythm-driven The Trumpet Player, and restrained Yours To Destroy.

However, itā€™s the acoustic Sleeping Between Trucks and jangly Kill The Rich (which both recall singer/guitarist Tony Slyā€™s solo split with Lagwagonā€™s Joey Cape) and the genuinely surprising piano ballad Ontario that most successfully rejuvenate the record and make it a pleasure to keep listening. The presence of such well-written diversions just makes the skate punk energy of tracks like the addictive The Feel Good Song of The Year shine all the brighter.

Slyā€™s vocal delivery has been a weakness to me in the past, sometimes sounding more focussed on harmony than passion. But I may be in the minority there, and in any case the songs and performances on offer here are strong enough to redeem him.

Owen Heitmann

Anti-Flag has never seemed like a band with aspirations to expand their sound beyond anything other than catchy, rabble-rousing three-chord melodic punk with generalised sloganeering lyrics ā€“ which is why itā€™s surprising to hear that on their eighth album, the Pittsburgh three-piece (together with producer Tony Visconti) have embraced orchestral instruments and other trappings of a band out to make an pretentious ā€?artistic statementā€™ (as opposed to a political statement, which Anti-Flag have never shied away from). Whatā€™s more of a surprise is how well it works: opening track Good And Ready marries a militaristic punk song with a conclusion featuring timpani and a childrenā€™s choir ā€“ and it seems perfectly natural.

The ambitious embellishments ā€“ brass on We Are The Lost and Shadow Of The Dead (which also features strings, without turning into anything remotely like a ballad), harmonica on Go West, and ringing bells adding impact to several tracks including The Modern Rome Burning ā€“ donā€™t dilute the bandā€™s knack for an anthemic chorus or twist their style into something unrecognisable. Instead, they simply work with whatā€™s already there and enhance the experience. I suppose in theory thatā€™s how such experiments should always work, but sadly in practice itā€™s not often that they do.

That said, the lyrics are still a weak spot, notably when they rhyme ā€?Americaā€¯ with ā€?sold out-ericaā€¯. And the album isnā€™t solely exploratory: Spit In The Face is a familiar full-throttle blast, Smartest Bomb is equally hard-hitting, and the title track is rousing, polished and infectious pop-punk. But Iā€™d gladly trade them for the slow-burning Vices, with its hypnotic chanted chorus, or the truly surprising folk-punk hidden track, Tar And Sagebrush.

This album might disappoint those who just wanted another The Terror State or For Blood And Empire, but my notions of what Anti-Flag are capable of have been expanded for the better.

Owen Heitmann

I suggested to a friend that I could probably review Pennywiseā€™s ninth full-length without actually listening to it ā€“ after all, the two-decade-old Californian punk rockers have basically rewritten the same album every few years since 1997ā€™s Full Circle. Moreso even than fellow punk veterans Bad Religion, their songs all sound much the same: expect pummelling drums, power chords, pick scrapes, generic riffs, and gruff vocals set off by melody and you wonā€™t be disappointed.

As if to prove me wrong, first track (Intro) As Long As We Can starts with a completely un-Pennywise-like metal influence ā€“ but after the minute-long beginning, the song proper is high-octane punk thatā€™s as familiar as it is energetic. However, the darker One Reason follows up on that metal promise for possibly the heaviest song in Pennywiseā€™s canon, Confusion trades in the breakneck tempos for corrosive mid-paced rock, and… well, thatā€™s really about it as far as variation goes. Faith And Hope, with its lightning-speed drumming, could have come from any of their albums in the past decade, while the group ā€?whoa whoaā€™s on Something To Live Forā€™s chorus are also typical.

A newcomer would find these cuts exhilarating, and itā€™s hard to deny the catchiness of The Western World, upbeat Weā€™ll Never Know or frenzied Itā€™s Not Enough To Believe, but thereā€™s nothing new here ā€“ even Jim Lindbergā€™s rhyming dictionary lyrics are predictable, and the simplistic approach to issues such as religion come as no surprise: this is, after all, a band whose idea of a manifesto is Fuck Authority.

Like the Ramones (who they covered during the Australian tour promoting this album), Pennywise have become a parody of themselves… and I guess hearing the same songs rehashed over and over is preferable to a P-Dub version of Acid Eaters. In the end, it doesnā€™t matter: thereā€™s always going to be a new generation of teenage skaters ready to buy their latest album.

Owen Heitmann

After their debut record of quirky yet mostly straightforward pop-punk, The Matchesā€™ sophomore album Decomposer drew more on alternative rock and was more experimental, and also found the band collaborating with no less than nine different producers. Third album A Band In Hope largely continues this approach ā€“ while Mike Green is the producer of choice for half the album, the remaining tracks are split between six others, including Tim Armstrong and John Feldmann, and the album covers as many genres and influences as producers.

The summery Wake The Sun and upbeat, optimistic If I Were You are catchy pop-driven singalongs, Their City and to a lesser extent We Are One sound like ā€™80s stadium rock, while the hymn-like Darkness Rising relies on upright piano and choral vocals for half of its length before exploding into an operatic conclusion that recalls Queen. Between Halloweens is similarly bombastic, whereas Point Me Towards The Morning is the kind of pop-punk gem the band used to knock out all the time.

If thatā€™s not enough variety, there are also some tracks that refuse to be pigeonholed, like eclectic opener AM Tilts (which encompasses influences ranging from dub to metal), oddly addictive To Build A Mountain (which has some great lyrics) and pulsing, atmospheric From 24C, an aching, sharp confessional portrait of a twisted relationship worthy of Jarvis Cocker.

Apparently the band rewrote much of the album following Decomposerā€™s lukewarm sales, and the scattershot approach can be seen as evidence of trying to find a hit. But maybe theyā€™ve tried too hard and been too ambitious: A Band In Hope is uneven and itā€™s the simpler songs ā€“ such as the slight but enjoyable Yankee In A Chip Shop (co-written with Tim Armstrong) ā€“ that fare best.

Owen Heitmann

Melodic hardcore band Good Riddance provided a soundtrack to modern rebellion from the early ā€™90s onwards over the course of seven full-length studio records on Fat Wreck Chords (plus 2002ā€™s covers album Cover Ups), but last year made the difficult decision to call it a day due to a variety of factors. As a mark of the bandā€™s legacy, Fat have seen fit to issue a live recording of their final farewell show in their hometown of Santa Cruz, California on May 27, 2007.

Beginning with two minutes of crowd noise and political soundbites, setting the stage and building anticipation almost as much as actually being there, Remain In Memoryā€™s track list reads like a Best Of, a 30 song retrospective covering the bandā€™s entire career. Highlights during the epic 78 minute running time include the anthemic Think of Me and chugging Darkest Days, Saltā€™s rallying cry for sanity in the hardcore scene, the guest appearance by Cinder Block (formerly of Tilt) on the anti-misogynist A Credit To His Gender, passionate and punchy Last Believer, visceral All Fall Down and ancient rarity Not So Bad, from 1993ā€™s Gidget EP.

The energy levels never dip (although there are a few breaks for the foursome to banter and catch their breath), and hearing the groupā€™s devoted fanbase yelling vocalist Russ Rankinā€™s intelligent and thought-provoking lyrics back at him adds another level to the experience. One reason the band gave for their split was concern that their style of music was becoming irrelevant; itā€™s an impossible fear to accept when listening to this ferocious document and the adoring response from the audience to each and every song.

ā€?Good riddanceā€¯? More like ā€?Sad to see you goā€¯.

Owen Heitmann

This greatest hits collection from American pop-punk group New Found Glory draws together between two and three songs from each of their four full-length releases from 2000ā€™s self-titled record to 2006ā€™s Coming Home (ignoring 1999ā€™s Nothing Gold Can Stay album, released when the band was still called A New Found Glory, and 2007ā€™s covers album From the Screen to Your Stereo Part II). The 12-song track listing is completed by the inclusion of Constant Static ā€“ originally an eSingle and Japan-only bonus track ā€“ and the previously download-only rarity Situations.

The song choices include most (but not all) of the bandā€™s singles (including gems like Hit Or Miss and My Friends Over You) plus a few representative album tracks (such as Understatement). However, despite the fact that 2004ā€™s Catalyst explored the heavier side to the band and Coming Home focused on gentler pop songs, the songs selected for inclusion here fit together so well you could easily believe they all came from the same recording session. But although Hits (which finalises the now-independent bandā€™s contract with the Universal Records family) doesnā€™t really feature a lot of variety, it is an excellent collection of catchy, melodic pop-punk. What more could you ask for?

Owen Heitmann

Take Action! is a fund-raising compilation series from Hopeless Recordsā€™ charity-focused imprint Sub City, with 5% of the recommended retail price going to a good cause ā€“ in the case of this seventh volume, the non-profit organisation Do Something (DoSomething.org). The bands contributing previously released album tracks to this two-disc set run the wide gamut of alternative acts currently popular with the kids.

Disc one (an audio CD) features 19 songs ranging from power-pop (Cute Is What We Aim For) through pop-punk (All Time Low), rock (Mayday Parade), emo (Silverstein), and post-hardcore (Chiodos) to Christian metalcore (Haste The Day), plus a Public Service Announcement from Andy Williams of Southern metallers Every Time I Die. Disc two is a DVD containing music videos for 20 songs, only two of which are also to be found on the audio CD (including the amusing ā€™80s horror movie pastiche clip for Every Time I Dieā€™s Weā€™re Wolf). A similar range of styles is covered, including mainstream rock in the form of Plain White Tā€™s and The All-American Rejects, geek pop from Hellogoodbye, and pop-punk stalwarts MxPx, although the back half of the disc has a heavier slant than the CD, with bands like The Red Chord, High On Fire and Suicide Silence dominating.

Volume 7 might be seen as a step down from the mammoth three-disc set that Volume 6 offered, but itā€™s still a decent value-for-money sampler of some quality acts, and given the charity aspect itā€™s pretty hard to complain.

Owen Heitmann

Seeing a band called Murder By Death may conjure up expectations that they play death metal, but judging a band by its name can result in false assumptions, as opening cut Cominā€™ Home proves: it sounds more like Johnny Cash covering a brooding Nick Cave song than Black Dahlia Murder or Napalm Death. Far from Satan-worshipping, blood-drinking metal debauchees, Murder By Death are a team of balladic troubadours, mixing Gothic Americana with earthy traditional music in a modern way. This will come as no surprise to those whoā€™ve been in the know about this band for their three previous albums.

With Adam Turlaā€™s deep baritone voice and Sarah Ballietā€™s versatile cello the distinguishing features, the band challenge the traditional image of a rock band with the likes of the jauntily gloomy Ball & Chain, which sounds like a knees-up at a gypsy funeral. But even the more conventional rockers like Rum Brave or Ash retain the distinctive qualities of this unusual combo.

The imposing Steal Away runs along at a quicker tempo, ā€™52 Ford comes across like Eastern European country & western, and you get three guesses what Theme (For Ennio Morricone) is influenced by. But the high-water mark comes at the albumā€™s end with the incredible Spring Break 1899, which takes the framework established by the preceding songs and weaves in 1950s doo-wop for a dramatic, dazzling result.

Despite the debt owed to music of the past, Red Of Tooth And Claw doesnā€™t come off as a throwback, but rather classically timeless. This would be an intriguing ā€“ and great ā€“ album if released in any decade.

Owen Heitmann

The words ā€?This is Hellā€¯ are inextricably linked in my mind with the whiteboy reggae song of the same name by Adelaide group The Jerks, but the five-piece US outfit using the phrase as their moniker could hardly be further removed from that association. Instead, this sophomore album illustrates that viciously punishing hardcore is the name of their game.

Dan Bourke pounds the drums like heā€™s got eight arms, while Rick Jimenez and Chris Reynoldsā€™ guitars are no less relentless, but itā€™s Travis Reillyā€™s abrasively shouted delivery that proves to be the most powerful element.

Unlike a lot of similar acts, This is Hell arenā€™t afraid of songs that are over two-and-a-half minutes in length. While cuts such as opener Reckless and Fearless Vampires get in and out quickly and leave you wanting more, the group answers that wish with three tracks that break the four minute mark, as well as several more that nudge it. These extended outings give the band a chance to stretch themselves a bit more and help to avoid repeating the same formulas on each of the 13 songs. In Shambles stands out as a perfect example of this, incorporating tempo changes and pushing the band to achieve a result thatā€™s definitely impressive.

Thatā€™s not to say that the shorter tracks arenā€™t also worthwhile ā€“ Realisation: Remorse is deliberately paced but still gripping, while the equally brief Without Closure which immediately follows is much more frantic and extremely adrenalised, proving to be one of the albumā€™s many highlights.

The in-your-face intensity of Misfortunes should secure This Is Hell a reputation in hardcore as an important band to check out.

Owen Heitmann

It would have been a massive injustice if Time Again hadnā€™t ended up on Hellcat Records, given how much their sound is indebted to Hellcat co-owner Tim Armstrongā€™s band Rancid ā€“ particularly that groupā€™s earlier, heavily street-punk albums. Time Againā€™s second full-length takes the blueprint for most of its songs straight from Rancidā€™s Letā€™s Go record: opener Day Like This and Montreal (Street Kids) duplicate that hardcore sound, Armstrong-soundalike vocalist Daniel Dartā€™s rapid-fire verses on One Way Or Another call to mind As One, new bassist Oren Sofferā€™s rattling delivery echoes Matt Freemanā€™s, and the first line of Movinā€™ Onā€™s spoken intro even seems a direct homage to Dope Sick Girl.

With the infectious Lines Are Faded, they also show the influence of …And Out Come the Wolves, 1995ā€™s accessible breakthrough release. Similarly catchy qualities appear on Lookinā€™ Back (an unusual expression of contrition in a genre thatā€™s usually gloriously unrepentant), the memorable TV Static and particularly the final cut Outcast. However, the bulk of the album remains full-throttle, as on the pummelling 90-second Youā€™re Going Down.

Itā€™s difficult to overlook the Rancid comparisons (although guitarist Elijah Reyesā€™ riff on Soon It Will Be could have come from Offspringā€™s classic Smash album, so fans of 90s punk are in for a treat), but unlike equally derivative labelmates Static Thought, Time Again capture the substance of their role models as well as the surface. As familiar as they are, these arenā€™t just hackneyed variations on existing riffs, but great songs ā€“ especially Lines Are Faded and the fist-in-the-air shoutalong anthem Outcast.

Owen Heitmann