I’m not sure how to accurately describe Scattered Purgatory‘s new album, Post Purgatory, but I’m also not sure it’s possible. The Taipei duo blend multiple genres well: Trip-hop, industrial, motorik, synthwave, a bit of goth. The cover looks like an upside-down photo of a flooded underpass with a city (Taipei?) in the background. The world was turned upside-down for the band during the pandemic, and they emerged from it, like all of us, a bit puzzled by how time and space worked and what was certain. Human relationships and airy expanses craved during isolation now felt kind of weird. Time felt like “it can heal or it can destroy,” as they mention in the notes for the album.
“Atata Naraka” has wild tenor saxophone (courtesy of Minyen Hsieh) that blasts like its being played in that flooded underpass while you cruise over the floodwaters in a sleek Miami Vice-era boat. The thick bass and fuzzy guitar chords of “Wunai” sound like the set-up to a seduction sequence in a vampire thriller.
“Ephemeral Mind” is a good name for a good track that describes how most of the world felt during and after the pandemic. Our minds, preoccupied with distractions before the pandemic, and calmness of mind, became ephemeral to our doom-scrolling. Emerging from our cocoons made some of us realize we need to put the phone down, while others rushed to fill the silence of the world and our heads with even more distractions. The 1980s goth guitar chords on it are damn cool.
“Thundering Dream” is heavy with low bass and synth stabs that sound like they’re played by robots underwater. dotzio‘s guest vocals on “Moonquake” create a gorgeous trip-hop / chillwave track that you’ll probably put on romantic playlists all year. “Above the Clouds” has heavy metal guitar chords combined with soft vocal sounds and tripped-out synths to make something unpredictable…as is the short “KL20,” which is like Blade Runner background music.
“Ocean City, Mirage Tower” would also fit into a science fiction film as the lead character slurps noodles in a tiny place off a neon-lit alley waiting for robot bounty hunters to show up and ruin everything. It floats along like lotus petal along the rain-filled underpass, drifting from synthwave to dark funk to cinematic piano paranoia.
Time is weird. Scattered Purgatory figured this out years ago and made an album that has a title symbolizing multiple things: Emerging from the weird time of the pandemic (which felt like purgatory for many), becoming new versions of themselves (Post “Scattered” Purgatory), no longer dwelling on the past, mistakes, and regrets (essentially what purgatory is).
Time constantly happens, and yet it doesn’t. No is one really sure what the hell it is. It heals all wounds and also withers away everything. Now is the only part of it that exists. I’m writing this in my present and in your past. You’re reading it in my future and your present. All of those things are now, like this record.
This Friday, Katzin will release his debut LP Buckaroo on Mexican Summer. The project of the New York based songwriter Zion Battle, who is just 20 years old, Katzin broke ground on his first album the summer after he graduated from high school.
Raised on skillful storytellers like Bruce Springsteen and Tracy Chapman, Battle started weaving narratives from his first year of adulthood into a collection of new music. Channelling the expansive gravitas of Springsteen’s Nebraska, while drawing from the warm, homespun atmospherics of early Orchid Tapes releases, the record incorporates symbols of the mythologized American West – cowboys, horses, vast deserts, rolling plains, ancient rock formations – to trace Battle’s leap out of adolescence in all its unsteady shine.
Katzin has so far shared three singles from the record “Anna,” “Wild Horses,” and “Nantucket,” and today he’s sharing a final single from the record, a track called “Cowboy.”
When Battle began work on Buckaroo, with collaborator and producer Max Morgen, he had just spent most of the summer in Europe, and came back to the United States inspired to explore what it means to be an American at this particular moment in history. As with several other tracks on the record, “Cowboy” is a song that spills out into questions of identity and belonging in a nation that might still be too young to know what it wants to be.
The track was born in Max Morgen’s kitchen during an especially fruitful songwriting session. “We had about six or seven tunes for the album already, and we wanted a standout, shiny, loud song,” says Zion Battle, aka Katzin. “So we sat down and wrote ‘Cowboy’ together. It felt like we were really in lockstep. It just came out so seamlessly. The kick drum on that song is actually the sound of my boots banging on the wooden deck in his backyard.” A standout on Buckaroo, “Cowboy” thunders with the quiet/loud dynamics of peak indie rock like Pavement and Pixies, arcing into its crescendo with the confidence and velocity of a Mustang hurtling down the interstate.
To mark the release of the record Katzin has announced a hometown release show at Nightclub 101 that will take place on March 11th.
Dead Pioneers,the Indigenous fronted band from Denver, thump back into action this week with one of their most enraged, powerful and important pieces of work yet.As the upsurge of the far right and white supremacists continues to rise and come out of hiding, Dead Pioneers are ready to fight back with new single ‘Nazi Teeth’, the first track to be lifted from their forthcoming third album, further details to follow…
“While unfortunate that it needs to be done, we’ll never shy away from calling out the elephant in the room,” states frontman Gregg Deal. “Although we didn’t expect this elephant to be the revival of fascists on Amerikkkan soil. Maybe we should have. Frustrated and angry, ready and willing to fight, it’s not lost on us that the need to write a song like this or say these words out loud is grim, ironic, and disconcerting. Nevertheless, here we are, and we’re here to do it.”
The single features a fiery vocal collaboration from Stephanie Byrne of Colorado feminist punk band Cheap Perfume, reconnecting with their fantastic 2016 song ‘It’s Okay To Punch Nazis’. Stephanie’s voice breaks through the song, doubling down on confronting white supremacists throughout the world.
“We are witnessing in real time the violent and horrifying overextension of this administration, while many of our brothers and sisters have been suffering at the hands of white supremacy and colonialism for generations,” says Stephanie. “Nazi teeth is a call to action to hold the line with your friends, family, and community. Keeping Nazis down keeps us all free.”
“The United States of Amerikkka is in disarray, and ‘Nazi Teeth’ is not just our answer to what we’re seeing and experiencing in the streets of the so-called land of the free, but a call to action, fighting the continuing manifestation of forces our grandparents and great grandparents fought some 81-plus years ago,” continues Gregg. “It should be obvious, but for some people it seems this needs spelling out: Fuck Nazis, Fuck Fascism, Fuck ICE, Fuck Pedos, and Fuck Trump and his administration. If violence is the only language they speak, it’s okay to punch Nazi teeth.”
Dead Pioneers have never been afraid to use their art as a vehicle to express their beliefs and anger at the current political landscape in America. Over two albums – their self-titled debut in 2023 and PO$T AMERICAN from last year, the band have concocted a unique blend of spoken word and hypnotic post-punk, mixed with the fury and anger of real punk rock.
Order ‘Nazi Teeth’ here. Dead Pioneers are confirmed to play their first EU and UK headline tour, starting later this month. Order your tickets here.
Dead Pioneers emerged as a dynamic extension of vocalist Gregg Deal’s performance art, seamlessly blending music with critical cultural commentary. Rooted in the same themes of identity and resistance that define his visual work, the band’s sound acts as a powerful platform for addressing the complexities of Indigenous experience. Deal harnesses the raw energy of post-punk and alternative influences to challenge prevailing narratives, using lyrics that provoke thought and evoke emotion. Just as his performance art confronts the legacies of colonization and systemic marginalization, Dead Pioneers – completed by Josh Rivera and Abe Brennan on guitars, bassist Lee Tesche (Algiers) and drummer Shane Zweygardt – engages audiences in a visceral dialogue about survival, resilience, and reclamation of voice. This musical endeavor not only amplifies his artistic vision but also creates a space for collective expression and solidarity, inviting listeners to reflect on the intersections of culture, history, and identity in a contemporary context. Through Dead Pioneers, Deal continues to assert that art, in all its forms, can be a powerful vehicle for activism and change.
Seattle’s The Darts return with “Apocalypse,” the second advance single from their upcoming LP Halloween Love Songs, arriving March 3. Where “Midnight Creep” danced in B-movie shadows, “Apocalypse” blows the door off the darker half of the album, leaning into caveman rhythms, volcanic fuzz, and the kind of apocalyptic joy that makes destruction sound like deliverance. It marks the moment the record shifts from spooky fun into full-throttle, after-midnight fire.
The song was born in Angers, France, when singer/organ conjurer Nicole Laurenne wandered through the massive medieval Apocalypse Tapestry, a wall of woven chaos, angels, beasts, storms, the whole cosmic meltdown. “The lightning bolt struck me,” she says. “The song practically wrote itself in the van as we left the castle.” Instead of doom, Nicole leaned into the strange liberation of burning it all down: freedom from suffering, freedom from crowns, freedom from being told what comes next. She wrote the line “no future, no kings” as a mantra of release — and a year later, as if the song had cracked something open, “No Kings” erupted as a protest chant across the U.S. All while the track existed only as a demo on her laptop.
Musically, “Apocalypse” hits like a ritual. A pounding, Neanderthal beat through the verses, wide-open chant on the chorus, and those snaking organ lines that nod straight to The Seeds, The Standells, and other 60s greats who knew how to make the end of the world sound like a block-party with broken amps. Rebecca Davidson’s guitar tone drags the song into modern grit with thick, grimy Mudhoney fuzz, a little L7 bite, and flashes of Bikini Kill’s unbottled anger. It’s garage rock with a cracked halo, stomped through the dirt and set on fire.
Long before the album was finished, the band slipped “Apocalypse” into their live sets, and the audience reaction was immediate. People were yelling for it after shows, asking where they could buy it, treating it like a lost classic. When the studio version was finally tracked, Gretsch Guitars tapped the instrumental for a major ad, with Lindsay Scarey and Rebecca featured front and center. A quiet demo had somehow become one of the band’s most in-demand songs before it ever saw daylight.
Recorded at Station House Studio in Los Angeles with Grammy-winning producer Mark Rains, “Apocalypse” is the bridge into Halloween Love Songs’ after-midnight terrain: heavier, darker, louder, and built to shake rooms. It’s the sound of a band deep into its evolution with Nicole, Becca, Lindsay, and returning drummer Rikki Watson, pushing garage rock to its breaking point and finding something feral and euphoric on the other side. No future, no kings — just volume.
mclusky release i sure am getting sick of this bowling alley, a six-song mini album featuring four new tracks as well as two songs previously available digitally only, on march 20 (digital)/may 1 (vinyl) via Ipecac Recordings.
Available now for pre-order (https://mclusky.lnk.to/bowling), the collection is available physically on black vinyl, translucent red vinyl (exclusive to the ipecac and band websites), and a rough trade exclusive variant on crystal fuchsia.
The release follows the 2025 album, the world is still here and so are we, the UK outfit’s first new album in over 20 years. It debuted in the top 20 on the rock, alternative, and independent sales charts. NPR said it “is just bursting with creativity,” Pitchfork called it a “reminder of what mclusky are still capable of… melting faces,” and Brooklyn Vegan said the three-piece are “as sneering and sarcastic as ever.”
Falco: “Content. It drives the modern music world. Photos. Opinions. More photos. More opinions (please note – not all photo and are options are bad, just 99 percent of them). How about – and indulge me here – music? That content-y enough for you? Fact is we can’t stop writing, at least at the moment. It’s fun (that’s all it needs to be). It’s the common denominator of band. Only death will slow us down (note – it won’t stop us).
The idea for this release starts as a bit of a stop-gap – a thing with which to help promote the north american tour – and ended up as something else entirely. ‘i know computer’ and ‘as a dad’ are new and are singles (they may make the next album, who can say, it’s already half-recorded and you will like it). Damien probably likes ‘I am computer’ a bit too much but that’s okay, the heart wants what the heart wants.
‘spock culture’ and ‘hi! we’re on strike’ were recorded during the the world is still here… why didn’t they make the album? I’m not sure. Lyrically they are important historical documents. Up there with the ‘pusheen the cat’ books and/or the u.s. constitution.
‘fan learning difficulties’ and ‘that was my brain on elves’ have only had a digital release before and are, to quote british children from forty years ago, ‘skill.’ Hopefully you can agree that iI, and by osmosis, all of us – have read a lot of books.”
mclusky North American tour dates:
March 24 Denver, CO Marquis Theater
March 26 Seattle, WA The Crocodile
March 27 Boise, ID Treefort Festival
March 28 Portland, OR Aladdin Theater
March 30 San Francisco, CA The Chapel
March 31 Los Angeles, CA The Regent Theater
April 2 Austin, TX Empire Control Room & Garage
April 3 Minneapolis, MN Fine Line
April 4 Chicago, IL Metro
April 6 Toronto, ON Mod Club
April 10 Philadelphia, PA Underground Arts
April 11 Washington, DC Black Cat
Keep your mind open.
[I know you’ll use your computer to subscribe today.]
I described Gran Moreno’s new album, El Sol, to a nephew as “Latino garage-psych.” That’s about the closest I can get to how they sound. Mix their hometown Austin, Texas love of heavy psych grooves with some blues influences, border rock, and metal riffs, then bake it in the desert sun, and you get the idea.
“Las Montañas” starts off the “sun” (“El Sol”) side of the album with enough heavy riffs to start a landslide or give you the power to scale literal and figurative mountains. The last minute of this song is like a match thrown on a trail of gasoline. It doesn’t so much flow into “Aztlan” as it roars into it like a flash flood through a desert wash.
“Huracán” is almost an arena-rock track with big, Brian May-like guitar riffs mixed with soulful, mellow chords. It’s another song of many on the album that reflect the elements: “Las Montañas” (“The Mountains”) are earth, “Huracán” (“Hurricane”) could be air and / or water. After it comes “Temple of Fire” with its marching beats and tales of a long road ahead to something grand on the horizon.
“La Mentira” (“The Lie”) brings in more heavy, fuzzy, bluesy swagger and grows into a scorcher by the end. “Oaxaca / Please Don’t Cry” has a great inclusion of saxophone and trumpet on it to elevate the song, somehow, even higher. The album (and the “La Luna” side) ends with “Hikuri” — a track that blends catchy guitar riffs with hammering power chords and drums that catch you off-guard every time.
It’s a strong record, and one I’d love to hear live. It must flatten you.
On their Live at Levitation album, it’s easy to forget that this recording was only the second show of A Place to Bury Strangers‘ current lineup (Oliver Ackermann – guitar and lead vocals, John Fedowitz – bass and lead vocals, Sandra Fedowitz – drums). They jumped right in (literally, in Ackermann’s case, as he was so frantic that his guitar almost flew into the stage) and proceeded to, as always, flatten the place.
Mrs. Fedowitz’s Devo-like drumming gets things off to a great start on “Dragged in a Hole.” Mr. Fedowitz’s bass throbs like a bubbling volcano on “Let’s See Each Other” as Ackermann’s voice and guitar bounce off every surface.
“We’ve Come So Far” always hits like a burst of anti-aircraft fire live, and this version is no exception. It’s difficult to tell which of the three is hitting harder on it…and that’s kind of the point. Mr. Fedowitz’s thick, sludgy bassline opens “Never Come Back” while Ackermann’s guitar sounds like jet engines starting, failing, roaring, and screeching.
Mrs. Fedowitz hits her toms so hard and fast in the first third of “Alone” that it’s surprising her drum tech didn’t have to replace them every eight bars or so. The breakdown / switch in the song that rushes it into heavy shoegaze is outstanding. “I Lived My Life to Stand in the Shadow of Your Heart” is another stunner. It sounds like the entire room is collapsing under an attack from a Martian tripod and barely gives you a chance to process everything that’s happening.
I say this about “Ocean” a lot, but it’s always true: Every time I think I’ve heard the loudest version of it live, APTBS somehow makes one even louder and wilder and more transcendent. This one evolves / devolves into feedback-chaos and almost makes your brain melt. The album ends with “Have You Ever Been in Love?”, which has Mrs. Fedowitz singing / chanting high notes to contrast the heavy, almost deafening buzz of the entire track.
APTBS shows are designed so you (and the people a couple blocks away) not just hear the music, but feel it. It rattles your whole body. My fiancé said, “I think I need a neck adjustment after that.” when she saw them for the first time. This album gets you close to that nerve-rattling, mind-altering sensation. My longtime description of APTBS is “They’re not for everyone, but I want everyone to hear them.”
Play this one loud, and everyone around you will (and should).
“To me it feels meaningful to talk about emotional things in a calm way.’ – Florence Shaw, lead singer and lyricist of Dry Cleaning.
That sums up not only Ms. Shaw’s approach to Dry Cleaning’s songs on their new album, Secret Love, but across their catalogue. Shaw’s vocal delivery, which often sounds like she’s some kind of quiet trickster watching from afar, often puzzles people. She writes and sings “about emotional things in a calm way” while her bandmates (Nick Buxton – drums, Tom Dowse – guitarist, Lewis Maynard – bass) often go bonkers behind and around her. It can be a jarring experience. Shaw is sometimes like an eye of a hurricane. Your ears aren’t sure where to give their attention. It’s best to just absorb it.
Lead single “Hit My Head All Day” has a wicked disco bass line from Maynard and a funk groove by Buxton to get your body moving. Dowse’s guitar comes in from the post-punk show next door and the dancers happily let him rock out while they keep dancing. Underneath the fun beats, Shaw sings about being frustrated with the barrage of not only thoughts, but also the idea she has to keep thinking them (“Life, a series of memorials and signals telling us this or that. Telling us this or this, think of that. The objects outside the head control the mind. To arrange them is to control people’s thinking.”).
“Cruise Ship Designer” is a song about a man who has a great career, yet he feels empty about it. Shaw wonders what it must be like to design floating cities and still feel unseen. Shaw tells a tale of someone invisible to most — the kind of song Dry Cleaning do well. “My Soul / Half Pint” has almost a surf groove to Dowse’s guitar during the chorus, and Shaw, tired of how domestic responsibilities have been heaped upon women, proclaims that “Maybe it’s time for men to clean for, like, five hundred years.”
“Secret Love (Concealed in a Drawing of a Boy)” has this bright, slightly shoegaze-y texture that is difficult to describe. “Let Me Grow and You’ll See the Fruit” has some of Shaw’s best lyrics on the album as she craves for time uninterrupted by “a video call or a survey or a dick pic or a loud bang.” She only gets privacy in “sample size” (just like most of us) and she only wants to be still and present. The saxophone on it adds a great touch.
“Blood” has smoldering punk rage under it as Shaw sings about the normalization of atrocities and violence across our screens. “Evil Evil Idiot” has Shaw expressing her frustrations with someone who won’t shut up about microplastics (and with influencers in general). The bursts of Dowse’s guitar are shocking at first. They match Shaw’s snarl.
Buxton and Maynard put down a fuzzy punk beat on “Rocks,” which is the grittiest track on the album and probably scorches live. On “The Cute Things,” Shaw seems to enjoy and be annoyed by little things in a relationship (“You talk like a greetings card, but I admire you and your family vibe.”). “I Need You” has her asking for stability in a world that keeps getting weirder by the day (“Why does it need to be over and over, and without end or change, and repeating over and over?…You’re the one that I need. You will make it all better.”). The synth bass reflects the weight she’s feeling of the constant barrage of anger around her.
The album ends with “Joy,” in which Shaw proclaims her belief that we’ll come through all this chaos and end up in a better place (“We’ll build a cute, harmless world. Don’t want one from you, cult.”).
Dry Cleaning are confronting emotional things all over this record, and inviting us to do the same in a calm way…but also acknowledging that calmness can proceed a storm.
Keep your mind open.
[I might hit my head all day if you don’t subscribe.]
ADULT. is not cooperating. For over 25 years, the dystopian Detroit synth-punk institution founded by Nicola Kuperus and Adam Lee Miller has embodied steadfast frustration, distrust, and apprehension. One might expect the edges to soften with time, but ADULT. is not interested in the comforts of legacy. The duo’s music has never sounded as visceral, urgent, and downright angry as it does on the culminating, uncompromising Kissing Luck Goodbye, their scorched-earth 10th LP and fourth with Dais Records.
Built with upgraded gear and a whole new library of sounds, the material is crushingly dynamic, louder yet clearer, with Kuperus’ commanding delivery given greater prominence in the mix, outlining an arsenal of vivid, caustic calls, chants, and musings. Laughter, whether in the lyrics or as a possessed presence, serves as a leitmotif that speaks to the menacing absurdity of modern times.
“No One is Coming”, the album’s lead single is a poignant, bassline-driven industrial anthem that turns feedback into melody, the track attacks inaction in the face of fascism —
NO ONE IS COMING TO YOUR RESCUE… A lyric that was written in early 2025 and is even more relevant on its release date a year later. A song speaking to moral collapse and political corruption “to a T”. These subhumans attempting to run the show are more concerned with cashing in and political cosplay than the well being of mankind. While working on this album, I read an article from an esteemed environmental scientist about “what’s coming in the future”. What stuck with me was their point that we are entering a new phase in existence where the most important thing we can do is know our neighbors and know the strengths of each other and what resources everyone has. Who needs extra care? Who is on their own? This song was written as a call to arms. Be alert. Be aware. Be prepared. Stand up for yourself and look out for your community. We are better when we are united. Social media is wearing us down. Deluding us. The political landscape is horrifying, distracting, deranged and unhinged. We are seeing this go down in real time right now in Minneapolis… NO ONE IS COMING TO YOUR RESCUE… except ALL OF US! Keep speaking up! Keep using your right to protest and most importantly keep showing kindness to one another.
ADULT. is known for high-stakes catharsis on stage, and recently deployed their back catalog of bass guitar songs from the 2000s, retracing the prescient Anxiety Always era partially out of necessity given the temperature of today’s political and technological dread. The response was instant and palpable: “We were in Paris, and the kids were stage diving. And I was like, this is rad. This is kind of the energy I want to get back into,” Kuperus says. The epiphany coincided with a series of setbacks — Kuperus’ bouts with chronic vertigo, the loss of their close friend and collaborator Douglas McCarthy of Nitzer Ebb, whom the album is dedicated to — all made profoundly worse under the looming regime. “We were stuck in the mud for quite a while after the election,” Miller says. “We had all the concepts, but we would just be like, ‘What’s the point?’” With failing studio air conditioners and dead car batteries (their sacred space for listening back to recordings), they often joked that the album might be cursed. Kuperus adds, “We’re just like everything’s breaking. We’re breaking. We’re broken.”
The sentiment didn’t stick, however, as they found themselves ultimately too super-charged by fury to sit still. From watching Musk’s disgusting nazi salute to seeing their community struggle under the new regime to waiting months for a tariff-inflated replacement subwoofer, the vibe heading into Kissing Luck Goodbye was four middle fingers pointed straight up.
Rather than retreat, ADULT. focused on the process, revisiting their setup, complete with their first new mics in 20 years. They obsessed over textures, amassing a massive sample library taken from old thrift-store albums, previously used and unused ADULT. ingredients and new field recordings, running myriad items, including the buzz of shop vacs, through various pedals. Pause Kissing Luck Goodbye at any moment, and you’re likely to count a dozen things happening at once in strange, dizzying, and dissonant harmony. Together with producer Nolan Gray, whose involvement resulted from a chance encounter (he happened to be the host of the short-term rental property where the two stayed — maybe there is still some luck, after all), the band pushed themselves harder than ever before to build a world with this record.
Songs took shape from unusual places: “No One Is Coming” got its tempo from a skipping record they captured through a cell phone during a bnb stay for Kuperus’ 50th birthday. “None of It’s Fun” blitzes with breathless urgency, high-speed glissades, and pointed lines like “OH I AM TEARING MY GUTS OUT / LOOK AT ME…DO YOU THINK THAT THIS IS AMUSING?” The closer, “Destroyers”, was the last song they recorded and encompasses the techniques that ADULT. has learned not just throughout the making of Kissing Luck Goodbye, but across their quarter-century as a pioneering collaborative project.
ADULT. Live Dates:
Apr 10: Pittsburgh, PA – Spirit Lodge Apr 11: Baltimore, MD – Ottobar Apr 12: Brooklyn, NY – Good Room Apr 14: Raleigh, NC – Kings Apr 15: Atlanta, GA – The Earl Apr 16: Jacksonville, FL – Jack Rabbits Apr 17: Orlando, FL – The Social Apr 18: Miami, FL – TBD Apr 21: New Orleans, LA – Gasa Gasa Apr 22: Houston, TX – White Oak Music Hall (Upstairs) Apr 23: Austin, TX – 29th Street Ballroom Apr 24: San Antonio, TX – Paper Tiger Apr 25: Denton, TX – Rubber Gloves Apr 28: Albuquerque, NM – Sister Apr 29: Phoenix, AZ – Rebel Lounge Apr 30: San Diego, CA – The Casbah May 01: Los Angeles, CA – Hollywood Forever (Masonic Lodge) May 02: San Francisco, CA – Rickshaw Stop May 04: Portland, OR – Mississippi Studios May 05: Seattle, WA – Barboza May 08: Minneapolis, MN – 7th St. Entry May 09: Cudahy, WI – X-Ray Arcade
La Peste were Boston’s first true punk band. The band were born as a group of art students who had never played instruments and over a few short years became a foundational influence for a Boston music scene that would go on to produce some of the most important and boundary-pushing American bands of the ’80s. They played with the Ramones, worked with The Cars’ Ric Ocasek and earned the attention of the legendary BBC DJ John Peel all while releasing only one single (1978’s “Better Off Dead”), which gradually accumulated a reputation as a punk classic, as did the various live and other unofficial recordings that circulated as bootlegs over the years.
In 1996, Matador released a single-disc La Peste collection, primarily of live recordings and with a few studio cuts mixed in, which introduced the band to a new generation of fans but has now been out of print for decades. At the end of 2025, Wharf Cat Records announced the release of a new compilation entitled I Don’t Know Right From Wrong: Lost La Peste 1976-1979 Vol. 1that aims to tell the full story of La Peste.
This box set focuses on the band’s prodigious unreleased studio work, collecting tracks from the “Better off Dead” sessions, demos produced by Ric Ocasek of the Cars, a 1979 session at Electro Acoustic Studios, and 4-track recordings made at the band’s loft. The first disc imagines the mythical full-length the band never made, and the second, equally worth hearing, is more diffusely assorted. Finally, I Don’t Know Right From Wrong gives La Peste the sort of presentation they deserve: not just as Boston’s first punk group, but a band that remains singularly thrilling today.
While bootlegs of many of the tracks on the compilation have circulated in various forms, today the band are sharing a never before released track called “Acid Test” that comes from the sessions with Ocasek. The track is accompanied by a video that pairs live footage shot by Jan Crocker and the MIT film crew with the studio track.
La Peste’s Mark Karl says of the single:
Acid Test is two chord magic. Two meanings. A relentless bass line, angry guitar and pounding drums. Perfect arrangement for a trio. Peter’s lyrics were right on – most of us can relate to a relationship gone sour. Begins simply and then quickly builds in intensity. The live performance of this song always carried the crowd into a controlled frenzy.
