Featured Releases

London Clay: Private View 12” (La Vida Es Un Mus) La Vida Es Un Mus released this full-length debut from London Clay late in 2025, but it seemed to fly under many people’s radars. Which makes sense, I suppose, because Private View is a wallflower of a record. While most records burst into the room screaming “LOOK HOW COOL I AM! LIKE ME!,” Private View sulks in the corner intriguingly, reading a book that’s too smart for you, daring you to engage. I contend that Private View is a beautiful, fascinating record, but it reveals itself slowly. The notes I made while listening to Private View are full of words like “smudged,” “smeared,” and “blurred,” and when you compare London Clay with the crispness of groups like Modem or Fatamorgana (ostensibly similar bands, in that they feature feminine vocals and primarily electronic instruments), the difference is striking. With those artists, the beats are insistent and the melodies are crystalline, so clear it’s like they beamed them straight into your brain. But there’s something tantalizing about the way London Clay buries their melodies in distortion and delay and the way the singer murmurs into the microphone like she’s afraid of being overheard. The object of my desire—that glorious pop nugget that lies just below the surface of these songs—drifts in and out of focus, but lives mostly in a space that’s just out of reach. On “Faraday” it’s right there, while “Clifton Rise” teases you for nearly five minutes before it delivers its blissed-out, shoegaze-y crescendo. And then there’s “The Obelisk,” a patience-testing eight-minute track (song? piece of musique concrète?) whose rhythm track loops a screeching 70s/80s-era dot matrix printer… the song makes me feel like I’m trapped in an office that doubles as an outer circle of hell. The handful of similar records I can think of—the Fall’s Dragnet, SPK’s early singles, the new Puppet Wipes album from last year—also have their difficult moments, and those moments are important. By pushing you away with “The Obelisk,” “Clifton Rise” shines that much brighter. The packaging extends this aesthetic beautifully, particularly the half-size zine that accompanies the vinyl. Page after page of mostly text-less collages grounded in the Crass / Poison Girls aesthetic (and similarly beautiful), but with a Situationist-like inscrutability. So, if you’re the kind of uncomplicated person who can get out of your own head and just enjoy a dumb pop tune, then maybe Private Viewisn’t for you. But if you’re a worrier, if you like arty films, and if your most valued experiences with art tend to start with disorientation, then maybe it’s worth making space in your life for London Clay.

Pray to Be Saved: demo cassette (Sex Fiend Abomination) Not to be overshadowed by last week’s Record of the Week by System Maintains, Sex Fiend Abomination also dropped this scorcher from Washington, DC’s Pray to Be Saved. While the band’s name might seem strange, once you know it’s a song from Extreme Noise Terror’s Phonophobia, it makes perfect sense. I didn’t get the reference at first, but ENT was the first band I thought of when I heard this demo. In other words, this is blistering fast and noisy d-beat hardcore with a harsh, almost industrial edge to it. The drummer feels like they’re playing as fast as they can, constantly on the verge of losing control, yet always landing perfectly on the tight, Gauze-esque punches that punctuate the songs. I love it when bands burst out of the gate intense as fuck, yet continuously find new ways to up the ante, and that’s precisely what Pray to Be Saved does here. The songs always feel like they’re at maximum intensity, but then a blistering solo will come out of nowhere and make things even crazier. The vocals are also strong, occasionally breaking out wild screams (like the beginning of “Guillotine”), but primarily using a slightly guttural shout that works great when it’s time to deliver a big vocal hook (see, once again, “Guillotine,” particularly the chorus, when the singer screams “Guillotine!”). While this is Pray to Be Saved’s M.O. for the first three tracks, on the back half of the demo they get a little weirder. A phaser-drenched guitar grows more prominent over the last few songs, then the demo climaxes with the five-minute closing track “When Will We Learn?,” a mid-paced song that leans into that quasi-industrial, post-Hear Nothing See Nothing Say Nothing thing I mentioned above. This is a bruising demo, and honestly it seems like a shame that it’s just a tape. If someone wants to press this on vinyl, I’ll be your first customer.

Streets of Separation: Faux Fur 7” (Helta Skelta Records) The long-running label Helta Skelta Records brings us the debut six-song EP from this three-piece band from their hometown of Perth, Australia. I’ve grown to trust Helta Skelta over the years; they don’t release many records, but when they release something, it’s worth paying attention to . I’m glad I paid attention to Streets of Separation, even though they sound nothing like the music I usually listen to nowadays. The label’s description mentions “a strong mix of post and pre Y2K,” and that’s a great way of putting it. There’s something very 90s about Streets of Separation; this mostly comes down to their riffs, which can be (but aren’t always) grungy and sludgy. Sometimes the band wallows in the muck—see the Incesticide vibes of the closing track, “Sludge Fuck”—but more often these sludgy riffs are implanted into songs that are kinda poppy, or at least have strong vocal melodies. And speaking of vocals, all three members sing, and their rather disparate approaches to singing are a big part of what makes Faux Fur so dynamic and interesting. Back to the “post and pre Y2K” thing, though; while Streets of Separation has the aforementioned characteristics that remind me of the 90s, they don’t sound like a 90s throwback at all. Their particular brand of lo-fi feels very of-this-moment, and while they don’t sound like any of the contemporary Australian garage-punk bands you’re probably familiar with (most of which aren’t from anywhere near Perth anyway), there’s something similar in how Streets of Separation approaches songwriting, particularly how they aren’t afraid of hooks. I also love how this doesn’t sit comfortably in one stylistic lane. Some moments have a grimy, garage-y quality that reminds me of Deaf Wish (or maybe a less jangly Gun Club?), while others sound like noise rock filtered through modern lo-fi punk. Whatever lane Streets of Separation find themselves in, though, the music and the songs are always interesting, making this EP well worth a listen.

System Maintains: 3 Song Demo cassette (Sex Field Abomination) One of the most exciting new labels in recent memory—Richmond’s Sex Fiend Abomination—brings us a short but brilliant 3-song demo by this punky metal band from Charlotte, North Carolina. This tape dropped digitally a couple of months ago, and from the moment I hit play I was enthralled. I mean, the band says it all when they describe themselves as “your sketchy uncle’s Metallica and Bathory tapes played through a wrecked boombox,” but that pithy description doesn’t get at how unique that combination is and how great System Maintains is at throwing the right ingredients into the cauldron to create this poisonous brew. Regarding the “broken boombox” part, the production here is a perfectly vintage-sounding, fuzzy scrawl akin to what contemporary punk bands who record on 4-track are producing… imagine the blown-out roar of Cicada or Shaved Ape, but metal. When the whole band plays at full intensity, it bleeds together into a wall of fuzz, but there’s enough room in the production for the key riffs and vocal lines to stand out, particularly since the songs are often arranged so those parts get highlighted as instrumental breaks. As for the songs and riffs themselves, they are fucking killer. I had an epiphany at the gym after listening to this tape like 5 times in a row and pondering how they can write such great riffs… then it hit me: the killer riff that starts “Final War,” the first song on the tape, is just a slightly reworked version of the intro to Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” And then the riff they play immediately after that—which also totally shreds—I’m pretty sure I recognize from a D.R.I. song. Some people might worry about this, but not me. As I like to say, there are only 12 notes, and I don’t need every band to reinvent the wheel. Even if there is source material for some of these riffs, the way System Maintains absorbs them into their neck-deep vibe—and creating that vibe is, I think, the real standout strength of this demo—completely transforms them. This is just thrilling, and by the time its 5-minute runtime is up, I’m so stoked that the only thing I can think to do is play it again… and again, and again…

Ratos De Porão: Ensaio Para O Lira - 1985 7" (Morrer Discos) Alongside an official reissue of the band’s landmark debut LP—1984’s Crucificados Pelo Sistema (which we also have in stock)—Morrer Discos brings us this lesser-known but killer slice of Ratos De Porão ephemera. It’s worth taking a moment to understand what this release is and how it fits into RDP’s (and hardcore’s story). After Ratos De Porão recorded Crucificados Pelo Sistema, the drummer and vocalist left the band. Original members Jão and Jabá—bass and guitar—reconnected with original drummer Betinho, with Jão taking over vocals, reconstituting the group’s 1981/82 lineup (the same iteration of the group that contributed six scorching tracks to 1983’s brilliant Sub compilation LP). What’s crazy isn’t so much that the original band got back together, but that they basically turned the clock back and picked up right where they left off. Thus, even though it says 1985 on the cover is this record, the music here is pure 1981/2 hardcore punk. I have always loved recordings that date right from the birth of hardcore, and that’s what this sounds like… moments remind me a lot of Bad Brains’ Black Dots tape, though what it really brings to mind is the earliest Riistetyt / Cadgers stuff. Of course there was a lot of cross-pollination between the Brazilian and Finnish scenes, and bands like Ratos and Cadgers just had to be working with a very similar set of inspirations. The recording here is very raw… I could be wrong, but it sounds to me like a rehearsal recording rather than a multi-track session, since there are bits of chatter and tuning between the actual songs. Nevertheless, it sounds fantastic. You can hear everything (well, maybe the bass gets kind of lost in places…), the guitar sound is brutal and powerful, and even though there are no overdubs that I can hear, there are backing vocals make the songs sound really dynamic. And the songs themselves are brilliant… trimmed-to-the-bone slices of minimalist hardcore punk with that infectious sense of excitement and discovery that you get from the first-wave classics.

Svaveldioxid: Misär O.D. 12” (Phobia Records) Phobia Records brings us a new album from Sweden’s Svaveldioxid, who has amassed quite a discography over their first decade of releasing records. I have friends who are total d-beat nerds and know that discography and its intricacies like the back of their hand. Those folks can tell you precisely how Misär O.D. stacks up against their split LP with Absolut from 2017 or their most recent 10” Främmande Samtid Skrämmande Framtid, but unfortunately I’m not qualified to do that. I’ve checked in with Svaveldioxid periodically over the years and always enjoyed them, but I come to Misär O.D. without much baggage. If you’re not familiar with Svaveldioxid, Sorry State’s readers might hear “Swedish d-beat” and think of the Totalitär-influenced sound that has been so popular lately with bands like Verdict, Gefyr, and Exploatör, but Svaveldioxid are a little different from that, their sound rooted in the gloomier end of Swedish d-beat populated by bands like Disfear and Avskum. Rather than agile riffs that frequently crash into that flatted fifth “evil note,” Svaveldioxid’s riffs are more minor-key, heavier, and driving rather than frantic. The other day I was listening to this record while I was working, and my attention drifted away from it to the point where I forgot what I was listening to… when I snapped back, for a second I was like, “am I listening to Impalers?” That’s not a comparison I would have reached for, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Svaveldioxid’s vocals sound very similar to Ulsh’s—a gravel-y shout treated with a healthy amount of reverb—and both bands also take a lot from self-titled / Criminal Trap-era Anti-Cimex, sitting in that pocket between more primitive raging d-beat and the slicker Motorcharged sound. Svaveldioxid sounds more European to me, though, with touches like the melodic, tremolo-picked guitar leads that pop up on several songs. Every once in a while they throw something unexpected at you, though, like the wild pogo breakdown in “En Död Snut Är En Bra Snut.” While it’s a long way from “melodic crust,” the hints of melody and sophisticated songwriting touches on Misär O.D. help separate it from the pack, making it a slightly elevated d-beat record that doesn’t skimp on the essential speed and power.

Nightfeeder / Verdict: Död Åt Tyranner 12" (Phobia Records) When I saw this split announced, I was immediately like, “oh fuck… this is going to be really good.” The recipe here is promising: two veteran bands operating at the height of their powers, playing music that’s very much in the same vein, but each band having their respective idiosyncrasies that give them a signature style. The pairing is inspired, but do the tracks live up to expectations? Yes, my friend, they do. In fact, I can’t get over how fucking great this split is. I should probably buy two copies because I can see right now I’m going to wear a hole in this thing, and if it doesn’t land near the top of my “Best of 2026” list, it will have been a very good year for hardcore punk indeed. First up, the Nightfeeder side. I have loved every single Nightfeeder release thus far, but I’m tempted to say the eight tracks they contribute to this split are the best thing they’ve done yet. It’s not as if they shake up the formula. As ever, their presentation is super unpretentious, the songs light on bells and whistles and with the focus firmly on the rock-solid, meat-and-potatoes riffing. Those riffs are so perfectly constructed that it feels like they have existed for a million years, and were they arranged in the simplest possible fashion—four of the verse riff, four of the chorus riff, repeat and stop—the songs would already be stellar. (Especially given the absolutely perfect d-beat drumming here, which varies the tempo to keep things interesting yet never stops dripping with groove.) Nightfeeder is way, way too good to half-ass things, though. They know the meat and potatoes are the stars of the show, but the flavor can be maximized with a subtle mix of spices. I have a feeling I’ll be noticing the little touches in these songs for many months and years to come, but off the top of my head there’s: the way the vocals sometimes devolve into inchoate scream on tracks like “Climbing the Walls;” the noisy, Discharge-style chorus on “Cursed Ruins;” the “you-think-you’re-gonna-slam-but-you’re-not” mosh riff teases in “Dragged Beneath” and “Born to Suffer;” the huge vocal hook in the chorus to “Born to Suffer;” the thrashy riffing in “Life’s Fool Pit” (a complex song by Nightfeeder standards with a lot more parts than usual, but they fit together perfectly); the outro of “Launch Codes” when the drums start playing backward. Man, this shit is just PERFECT. Verdict has a lot to live up to on their side of the split, but they meet the moment and deliver what might be their best material too. While Nightfeeder’s tracks lean more restrained and groovy, Verdict emphasizes speed, their tracks generally faster than Nightfeeder’s, with rhythms that are unimpeachably tight, yet slightly ahead of the beat, thrillingly riding that line between chaos and control. The more crowded mix places the focus on the manic speed, but when you listen closely, you realize Verdict are also masters of the riff… in fact, the riffs in songs like “War on the Streets” and “Never Ending Struggle” are so prototypical that you could imagine them as Nightfeeder songs just as easily as Verdict songs. One area where Verdict is unmatched, though, is their talent for crafting breakdowns and mid-paced parts. It’s so hard to work a breakdown into a d-beat song without sounding cheesy, but “I’m Not Built to Last” and “End All This Crap” are textbook examples of how to do it right. And the fully mid-paced track “Narcissistic Piece of Shit?” GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. I’m dead. I really can’t get over how great this split is. Every time I finish a side, I think, “this side rules!” Then I play the other side and think, “this side rules!” Then I go back to the first side and think, “this side rules!” It’s an infinite loop I wouldn’t mind getting lost in forever.

Tormented Imp: S/T 7” (Donor Records) Donor Records brings us the debut 7” from this standout band from the hardcore hotbed of Leeds, UK. This release made some noise on my social media feed when it was released digitally back in November, but it’s taken a few weeks for the vinyl to make its way across the pond, and of course it’s expensive as fuck thanks to the one-two combo of the US dollar’s plummeting value and Trump’s new tariff policies. Eat shit, you orange fuck. Anyway, let’s focus on the positive, i.e. how much this 7” slays. Tormented Imp strikes me as a band with virtuosic skill, but rather than wowing you with complexity, they use their talent to pummel you as effectively as possible. As soon as the needle drops on this EP, I get strong Poison Idea vibes, particularly the Feel the Darkness era. Tormented Imp’s execution is airtight, edging against the mechanical, but still sounding human… or maybe superhuman. The drumming is nuts, with a slightly rigid groove and a steadiness that seems impossible given the blistering tempos… fans of Bastard will dig it for sure. The guitarist is the other standout musician here, crafting interesting, hooky riffs and lead runs in a broad range of styles, from Burning Spirits-inspired epic to high-speed rock gymnastics a la Skitkids. The songs’ arrangements are dense, filled with quirky but seamlessly executed transitions, and hardly ever repeating parts, unless a riff is so catchy you really want to hear it more than once. The density is such that it might take a listen or two for your ear to make sense of it, but once you wrap your brain around the complexity, it’s really a beautiful thing to behold. While these four songs have all the brutality you want from dumb hardcore, they’re executed on such a high level that you’ll be unwinding them and noticing interesting bits after many listens. It sucks that we have to charge $15 USD for a 7”, but it stings less when it’s this good.

Modem: Interface 12” (Don Giovanni Records) I’ve been seeing my European friends post photos of their copies of Modem’s new LP, Interface, for a couple of months, but the US pressing on Don Giovanni only just arrived. Fortunately, it’s worth the wait! If you aren’t familiar with Modem, they’re an electronic duo comprising two experienced Finnish musicians with deep connections to that country’s punk scene: Ville from Yleiset Syyt / Foreseen / Kohti Tuhoa (among many others!) and Tytti from power-pop group Plastic Tones. Jeff once called this setup “hey boo, let’s make bleep-bloops,” referring to the many electronic duos featuring two musicians who are also romantic partners. (Boy Harsher and Fatamorgana also spring to mind.) Fatamorgana is actually a pretty good point of comparison for Modem. Both bands rely primarily on sequencers and synths, but make music that’s informed by punk’s high energy levels and pop’s reverence for the melodic hook. It’s music that sits at the meeting-point of dance music and electronic pop, with a very 80s tonal palette that elicits some nostalgia for those of us who grew up in that decade… or anyone with a soft spot for the Human League’s Dare. As you’d expect if you’re familiar with the rest of Ville and Tytte’s music, the instrumental tracks are brilliantly and tastefully composed, of unimpeachable quality, but what really knocks me out on Interface is Tytti’s voice. She sounds fantastic here; her voice is rich in texture and brimming with emotion. For me, the vocals are often the weak point in modern music in this vein, particularly since they’re often clouded with distortion and other effects. Not here… Tytti’s vocals are crystal clear and she has this way of singing that’s intimate, like the song is directed precisely at me. I guess I’d call that star power, and it’s why, when I reach for comparisons for this album, my mind goes to mainstream acts like Human League or Madonna rather than contemporary groups working in a similar milieu (though I’ll say Riki’s fans should look this up right away). If any of the reference points I mentioned here pique your interest, give this a listen and see if you’re as knocked out as I am.

Direct Order ‘82: Demo cassette (Crosshair Records) New Jersey’s Direct Order ’82 lay it all out there for you with their band name on this demo cassette, and those of you looking for a circa-1982 USHC rush won’t be disappointed. 12 songs in 12 minutes, though as with the shining monument of ultra-clipped, minimalist hardcore punk—the Circle Jerks’ Group Sex—there’s a lot more to these sub-minute blasts that initially meets the ear. D.O. ’82 has a couple of ringers in the band—you might know guitarist P.J. from his years in Night Birds, while the singer Tim fronted 90s New Jersey straight edge band Ensign (apologies to the other members whose resumes I don’t know as well)—and they know that a simple verse and chorus is typically not all you need for a compelling song. However, they also know that hardcore punk is all about keeping things to the point, and they toe that line brilliantly here. The riffing is on the hookier end of USHC—I find myself thinking of bands like Social Circkle or even Kid Dynamite—but the songs are so compressed and jagged and the parts come at you so quickly and relentlessly that it’s almost overwhelming… by the time you’re a couple of tracks in, your heart is definitely racing. But, like I said, despite the brevity, the songs are fully fleshed-out… there are a lot of intros that are literally like 1.5 seconds long, and bridges, outros, and other accoutrements that are nearly as brief. (Another highlight is “Leave Me Alone,” which features guitar solos before both verses, and hence reminds me of Bad Religion’s “I Want to Conquer the World,” yet still clocks in at only 59 seconds.) For fans of We Got Power: Party or Go Home, Short Music for Short People, and other hymns for the hyperactive.

Arson: Burning Future 7” (General Speech Records) We’ve carried a couple of tapes from New York’s Arson over the past few years, and now they’re here with their debut vinyl courtesy of General Speech Records. It’s cool that Arson waited to make the move to wax, because Burning Future really shows off their finely honed chops. This is still blisteringly raw noise-punk, but Arson finds a lot of room within the narrow parameters of the style to add complexity and dynamism to their songs. The singer’s vocal style toggles between a bark, a scream, and a shout, the guitarist has a handful of different distortion tones they might throw at us at any moment, and the rhythm section also has a few different modes, including fist-pumping d-beat, E.N.T.-style grinding crust, and a pit-clearing mid-paced groove, plus the ability to shake things up with lots of hooky rhythmic accents. Burning Future always feels like it’s coming at you full force, but Arson finds a lot of space to shake things up within that 95-99% intensity level, which staves off the inevitable feelings of fatigue and boredom that one-dimensional crusty hardcore can give you. While a close listener can appreciate Arson’s craftsmanship, this isn’t pretentious or arty in the least… just raw as fuck, to the point hardcore punk that knows you gotta shake things up just a little bit to keep it interesting.