Perth-based four-piece Anime Fire’s debut EP is six tracks of darkly oppressive metalcore, embellished with touches of electronica. Guitarist Shaun Ngere and bassist Marty Sims lock together tightly to produce corrosive riffs like that which propels A Dangerous State Of Mind, while guttural singer Maty Rowe growls dyspeptic lyrics throughout the recording with little subtlety in his delivery, a fact which is highlighted on final track Altered Beast when his voice is counterpointed by velvety female guest vocals.

But Rowe’s programming additions, unlike his voice, do add a more delicate atmosphere, particularly on Remedy, a track which also highlights drummer BJ McNally’s rhythms – although it does feel more like an interlude than a proper song for much of its length. Machine Of War (which deploys samples of George W Bush to good effect), on the other hand, is strongly punk-influenced.

The title track best represents the EP’s sound as a whole, as its veering from orchestral swells to blast-beats showcases the diverse extremes of the band, but spirited opener Venom might be the pick of the bunch.

Owen Heitmann

In a surprising move, Dropkick Murphys have opted to leave their longtime home at Hellcat and release their sixth studio album through their own label, Born & Bred. I’ll be shocked if it doesn’t pay off, though: The Meanest Of Times is much stronger than their well-received but uneven last album, The Warrior’s Code.

The seven-piece Celtic punk outfit have really consolidated their sound on this outing. There’s nothing so poppy as Sunshine Highway from The Warrior’s Code, and they’ve also avoided the extremes of that album’s piano-based Eric Bogle cover The Green Fields Of France and full-throttle punk Citizen CIA. That’s not to say that they’ve sacrificed variation entirely; rather, they’ve just perfected their fusion of the disparate elements. Their blend of mandolin, tin whistle and bagpipes with street punk has never sounded quite this good.

The opening three cuts (Famous For Nothing’s compelling tale of childhood gangs, rousing and emotional God Willing and The State Of Massachusetts’ portrait of a family torn apart by drugs) are blindingly great. They might not be as heavy as some songs the band has released in the past, but their passion gets the blood racing more. This high water mark is equalled several times on the album, notably when they take on the old Irish drinking song Lannigan’s Ball – reworked here as (F)lannigan’s Ball and recorded with irresistible energy. The Dropkicks’ renditions of traditional songs have always been terrific, but this track and Fairmount Hill (a Boston take on Spancil Hill) prove that when they rewrite and personalise the lyrics, the results are even better.

The band’s own compositions such as Vices And Virtues, I’ll Begin Again and Never Forget channel the same gripping timelessness, and even lesser moments like Shattered still stand tall. Highly recommended.

Owen Heitmann

No Use For A Name are the very model of a Fat Wreck Chords band: their style is that quintessential mid-90s skate-punk sound, mixing brash melodic guitars with fast drums and slightly nasal vocals.

Of course, there’s probably half a dozen other bands you could say exactly the same thing about, but none of them released this 26-track best-of compilation. Despite this collection featuring four different lead guitarists and two different bassists, there’s a definite consistency to the selection (drawing from five Fat Wreck studio albums and one EP but ignoring their 2001 live record and first two independent albums) that ensures uniformity despite the non-chronological order. It rarely gets as good as the cracker single Soulmate, but punchy Justified Black Eye sets a more achievable benchmark, and there are also guest appearances from Dance Hall Crashers’ Karina Denike (On The Outside) and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ Dicky Barrett (Growing Down).

If you kept reading past the first sentence of this review and don’t have any NUFAN albums, this overview will set you right; if you already have their albums, you’ll want to borrow this from a friend for the two unreleased tracks (History Defeats and Stunt Double), maybe the compilation rarity Coming Too Close, and the accompanying booklet packed with photos, posters, and reminisces from relatives, crew and past and present members, including (often apocryphal) stories about each song.

Owen Heitmann

Reel Big Fish’s first album since returning to an indie label is a mixed bag.

It’s public knowledge that they were glad to escape their former major label contract, and this record reflects that happiness on ridiculously gleeful tracks such as Everybody’s Drunk. Still, their goofy ska-rock has always had a cynical side, and that remains present with cuts like the archetypal The New Version Of You.

In fact, the album features a number of songs bound to become staples of the band’s already gem-packed live set, particularly the stupidly fun Party Down and the minute-long blast of profanity Another F. U. Song. In a less gimmicky vein, the bittersweet singalong My Imaginary Friend is also a highlight, as is the appropriately-named reggae-influenced Slow Down.

However, after the first 10 brand new tunes – the ‘monkeys’ (including a cover of Phil Collins’ Another Day In Paradise) – come the ‘chimps’: no less than seven re-recorded versions of miscellaneous RBF songs previously available in one form or another. Of these, I’m glad to have better-sounding versions of the vitriolic Hate You and self-pitying Call You (being among the few songs from their lo-fi indie debut Everything Sucks that weren’t re-recorded on their first two major label albums). But some of the others – notably Til I Hit The Ground, which originally dates back to a 1994 cassette demo, Return Of The Mullet – could have been left in the closet.

So it is a bit patchy, but heck, I’m just glad they didn’t quit when the third wave of ska crashed back at the end of the last century. They’ll probably never have another hit as big as Sell Out, but by the sound of this fun-loving album, that doesn’t matter to them at all.

Owen Heitmann

Screamo stalwarts Silverstein – named after late great renaissance man Shel Silverstein – have moved in a markedly more accessible direction with third album Arrivals & Departures. Exactly how much of this transition can be attributed to the production by Mark Trombino (known for his work with Blink-182 and Jimmy Eat World) is unknown, but this is an album unmistakably oriented towards a wider audience than the band has previously cultivated.

The dominant flavour of the album is in a surprisingly radio-friendly vein and is best categorised as punchy melodic punk. However, there are other elements at play, most obviously in the form of strident breakdowns and occasional metal dissonance (as on opening track Sound Of The Sun). But the riffage is for the most part noticeably melody-driven, and Shane Told’s screamed lines – while still present – take more of a back seat in favour of yearning sung vocals.

The schizophrenic Vanity And Greed is the least successful combination of styles, and album closer True Romance is a drawn-out lowlight. But Here Today, Gone Tomorrow, rocking Love With Caution and particularly the appealing Worlds Apart and Still Dreaming demonstrate the rewards gained from taking their tough sound in a more pop-oriented direction. How this evolution will sit with long-term fans is unclear, but Arrivals & Departures is all but certain to expand Silverstein’s market share.

Owen Heitmann

Boys Night Out’s second album, Trainwreck, was a concept album following the story of a man’s descent into madness after he kills his wife in his sleep. This third full-length release from the Canadian group doesn’t have such an ambitious overarching approach, but its themes are equally grim: alcoholism, poisonous relationships, and public executions. Evoking bands like Bayside and Alkaline Trio, the quintet blend chirpy pop-punk riffs with desolate rock atmospherics and elements of post-hardcore.

The album fires on all cylinders from the beginning: Get Your Head Straight opens with a gripping chorus and proves to be one of the record’s best songs. The Push And The Pull is also a highlight – its title is reflective of the propulsive rhythm of the song.

Paean to alcoholism Let Me Be Your Swear Word’s chorus is almost offensively catchy given the tragic subject matter covered by lines like, “this bottle’s gonna take us both to an early grave”, and the crashing drums of The Heirs Of Error at first seem to be at odds with the other instruments until the song suddenly comes together, revelling in intensely energetic guitar work.

The understated Swift And Unforgiving and Hey, Thanks are less compelling, and the jury’s still out on Fall For The Drinker, which sounds kind of like Radiohead’s Fake Plastic Trees played by the Smoking Popes. After its deliberate pace, the upbeat Apartment 4 certainly gets the adrenaline pumping again.

Finally, the melancholy undercurrent that runs through the album comes out strongly on It Won’t Be Long, which begins as just piano and vocals before swelling into a massive singalong dirge that provides an epic conclusion to this imperfect but likeable album.

Owen Heitmann

Tiger & The Duke is jaw-dropping. Its foundation is post-hardcore, with liberal doses of prog, funk, metal, blues, screamo, and ambient sounds. Throw in abrupt tempo changes, soaring dual vocals, unpredictable structures, and free improvisation and it’s difficult to describe any one track in less than a page, let alone the whole release, which consists of four vital songs (or Acts), plus four meandering electronic instrumentals.

The combination of styles is at first bewildering, but it begins to make a sort of sense when investigation reveals that the anonymous characters who make up the band (identified by pseudonyms such as The Lynx and The Nightingale) include members of progressive ska-reggae-rock outfit RX Bandits, post-hardcore group Finch and experimental rock band Circa Survive. Elements from all these acts can be heard on Tiger & The Duke (filtered through a Mars Volta sensibility and fused together by electronica), but they still make unlikely collaborators in the first place. Having identified the pieces of the puzzle, the whole picture remains intimidating.

This reissue remasters the out-of-print EP (first released in 2005) and adds seven remixes and a live recording of songs originally found on the collective’s debut album, Lover, The Lord Has Left Us. The live version of Horses In The Sky is the most powerful of the additional tracks, many of which (such as the Un’aria Elettronica (Technology) remix by Chris Tsagkis) are as drowsy as the original EP’s interludes, although My Horse Must Lose (Portugal The Man) and The Heretic (Evol Intent) are recast as compelling off-kilter pop in the vein of Hefner, while you can probably guess what This Heat In Dub sounds like from the title.

At their best, The Sound Of Animals Fighting are intense and challenging. The interludes and many of the remixes could be seen as padding rather than enriching the experience, but while I lean towards the former, I’ll still give them kudos for creativity. You won’t hear anything quite like this anywhere else.

Owen Heitmann

For a band whose career has lasted for more than 25 years, it seems a bit odd that Orange County punk band Social Distortion’s Greatest Hits features only a meagre 11 songs, but this judicial selection ensures that there’s no filler.

This collection showcases Social D’s heartfelt wrong-side-of-the-tracks mid-paced punk anthems and stands testament to the frequent unusual incorporation of country influences into the band’s sound, right from the early days. Ironically, these influences – which permeate a lot deeper than the twang in singer Mike Ness’s gruff snarl – are most evident in original tracks like the loping Prison Bound and are almost absent in their chugging, Sex Pistols-whipped cover of Ring Of Fire.

Selections on offer include Mommy’s Little Monster (the title track of their debut), the capitulation of I Was Wrong, the uncommonly up-tempo Reach For The Sky, and three cuts from their breakthrough self-titled album, including the bittersweet Story Of My Life. (However, not all the songs are presented in their original versions – the six tracks from their three albums released on former label Epic have been re-recorded by the current lineup, since Epic holds the rights to the original recordings.)

Brand new offering Far Behind also proves that the outfit still has what it takes, being easily the equal of any other track on offer on this concise precis of their output.

Owen Heitmann

Miles Away hail from Perth, Australia, but their style of hardcore is definitely influenced by the US scenes of Boston and the Pacific Northwest, without being derivative or unoriginal (at least, not moreso than any other hardcore band since Minor Threat). That said, neither do they offer anything revolutionarily new, but innovation isn’t what most hardcore fans come looking for. More important are qualities like energy, intensity, and solid songs, and Miles Away deliver in all those areas.

Although the tracks do tend to follow the same formula – racing guitars, pummelling drums, throatily shouted vocals – there is enough light and shade to maintain interest. Melodic touches infiltrate numbers such as Cranford Ave and the hectic Brainwashed, and there are frequent tempo changes, switching up the likes of Rising Sun just as they begin to sound repetitive. Excursion (Piss Stops And Passports) also trades off the angst of tracks like Wake Up with optimistic lyrics based on the band’s experiences touring the US and Japan, as well as their home country.

Most of the tracks clock in at around two minutes, with none over three. The longest songs are the final trio: Safe As Houses uses the length to explore a more complex song dynamic, even ending with an acoustic outro, Affadavit is another example of aggressively melodic hardcore, and the closing title track is a restrained acoustic instrumental that shows a different side to the band.

Australian fans of bands like Champion and Sinking Ships would do well to investigate Miles Away and consider spending their cash closer to home.

Owen Heitmann

For Tiger Army’s fourth album, singer/guitarist and only constant member Nick 13 is yet again joined by new additions to the band’s perpetually rotating lineup, in the form of Jeff Roffredo and James Meza on stand-up bass and drums, respectively. The trio begin the album strongly with the rattling intro Prelude: Signal Return and its familiar refrain of “Tiger Army never die!”; Hotprowl is likewise psychobilly of the first order, also incorporating an AFI influence and a breakdown towards the end. And despite starting with acoustic guitar and being quieter overall, Afterworld maintains this energy.

From this point, however, the album steadily loses ground with its psychobilly fanbase. While the familiar slap bass is still evident on several tracks like Ghosts Of Memory and Lunatone, the urgent pace that opened the album is lacking, and just as many tracks find songwriter Nick 13 branching out wildly. Forever Fades Away is balladic melodic rock (beginning on an oddly disco-oriented beat), and Where The Moss Slowly Grows is country-influenced, complete with pedal steel guitar, while the Tex-Mex Hechizo de Amor has lyrics unexpectedly sung entirely in Spanish. But As The Cold Rain Falls is definitely the most unusual cut on the album, sounding for all intents and purposes like The Cure, with shimmering rhythms and keyboards ripped straight from the 80s.

Some criticisms from longterm followers are clearly inconsequential (the album has less than the traditional 13 tracks, and the title doesn’t follow the expected Tiger Army IV: naming convention). But there does seem to be a loss of identity on this album, and it’s hard to know where they’ll go next.

Owen Heitmann