This morning, my guy Rich sent me a text with a link to this song that simply said “Nah this is a f–king moment”. Uncensored of course, but this is a family friendly webzine and we shan’t be allowing that language to befoul these pages. But I hit go and suddenly I was listening to the best new hip-hop song? Out of Australia? Ok then. 2:30 and this record had established itself as one of my favourites of the year, eviscerating me with thick production, flawless flow and bars in Korean. Makes more sense when you consider that this five piece Sydney crew are Korean-Australians, with everything they drop on instagram captioned in both languages. This track doesn’t showcase some slim hat-tip to their culture but a central connection, bleeding through both this and the single they’d released prior. Their first drop ‘Brr’ bangs but ‘No Caller ID’ is The One. The group’s producers pokari.sweat and Nerdie put the beat behind this one and it kicks like a mule in an earthquake. The sounds of hyper-bright laser-rays flit in and the change of MC’s each time seems to be signposted with production affectations, either adding in synths chords or deep 808 bass, such that the whole track embodies movement and it’s brief 150 seconds of life is vibrant. In spite of errything that’s going on in the beat end, the quality of this vocal mix means every line sits sharp atop this thing like crystal on the tablecloth. That’s enough similes for a few weeks now I reckon, please ingest this and let me know what you think.

One for y’all out there who like your dream pop heavy on the side of dream. From the same place we first met Hatchie, Alvvays and Fazerdaze (heaven) come Morgues, a Sydney duo naming themselves after the particular locale wherein you’ll find cold, hard corpses. I can see the reverse appeal here (of the name, not the corpses you nut) in that they sound cloudlike, dewdescent (a new word, you’re welcome) and light on their toes, all the things a corpse usually isn’t. It’s like calling your redheaded mate blue or whatever, I don’t know. This is the type of indie I lap up, recorded with enough vocal filter so as to make you want to throw words like ‘lo-fi’ around despite them being categorically inaccurate in describing the record. Bonus points applied because this press shot was taken just outside my work, shoutout Jumbo Thai, shoutout Chinese Noodle House. More from Morgues in 2021 thanks cheers.

Websters dictionary defines fig as “some fruit shit, not entirely sure. maybe a vegetable, check wiki bitch”. And while some some say that the editors of Websters started dialing it in years back, I say they’re not far off the mark. This is some fruitful business from Noli Fig, playing all the sounds, doing all the recording from his bedroom. Some might even call this bedroom pop. Might you? I hear a little Methyl Ethel in the bassline with a combination of Jake Webb and Jordan Ireland in the vocal. Beautiful and off center with a voice that you could knock over in a stiff wind, this is the sort of record you roll about on your tongue for a while just to figure out the flavour. The fella who went and made it is Jordan Roe, Sydney based and that’s about all I know about him though to be fair I didn’t do a lot of digging. There’s an EP on bandcamp and this is the standout track, though do enjoy his eerie edit of the principal’s monologue from Billy Madison.

Look, I’ll level with you, I don’t care about UFC at all. Not my thing. Bit too violent, you feel me? There’s only so many times I need to see one person pummel the unconscious bloody head of another before I can say to myself “yessir, that’s just about enough thanks. I’ve had my fill”. And you know how much is my fill? None times. Nonetheless, even I know the Infamous Connor McGregor, lord mayor of early KOs and shit-talker of the highest order. Turns out the dude not only knows how to cause grievous bodily harm, but he’s also a mean-ass producer from Melbourne. Seems weird to me, but you can’t argue with this record and when you consider the purity of violence in his new track ‘Sweet’, it’s clear that they’re one and the same person.

Melbourne based, originally from Scotland, there’s more than a hint of UK garage as well as some extra percussive elements that mess with the breaks just enough to make it a little genre-indiscernible. He’s a fan of the ambient lead-in, the gentle introduction but once he hits his straps, he goes hard for the beat. Dying to see this dude chop a dancefloor apart.

Another week, another song about ritualistic castration. I don’t know what everyone’s been swilling in 2020 but it seems that the only thing that any reputable songwriter wants to talk about is the emancipation of your basilisk. The most recent outfit to throw their hat in the ring is the appropriately named Eunuchs, a Sydney outfit who’re making an extremely obvious play for Spotify’s ‘Castration Anthems’ playlist. What sets this sonofabitch apart from the millions of songs written about the same subject matter is not just the splintering vocals that duck through varying agressions like a weavers shuttle… it’s the credits on this thing. Check it:

Danny Heifetz – Drums
Kristo Langker – Percussion and Grunts
Alex Paterson – Violin
Catherine Jang – Violin
Caitlin Duncombe – Viola + Assistant Producing
Tom Williams – Cello
Hamish Gulick – Double Bass
Suzy Sparrow – Piccolo
Lewis Pastars – Tuba
Paolo Franks – Bass Trombone

It’s a heavily orchestrated punk record boasting everything from piccolo to tuba and the arrangement is WILD. It’s the sort of record that’ll make you extremely stressed and uncomfortable and sure, not a great sell to the background listener but this IS what I want of heavy music. We’ve just become so mired in the predictable tropes of heavy music after decades of it that when we hear a bone wrenching gutteral growl with sadistic lyrics we think ‘hmmmm, that was good deathcore’ rather than actually feeling anything. So you’ll forgive me if I’m taken by this weird, gross record that makes me recoil a little.