A New Band A Day 2008-2018

Welcome to ANBAD, which celebrated ten years online in April 2018, and is now “resting.” (I’m still jabbering on about music on my radio show and discussing new bands like, oh, I dunno, The Chats, on Twitter.)

However, ANBAD also has over 1200 posts featuring about 1500 artists. Most are buried deeeeep in the blog, rarely seen by human eyes. This seemed a bit unfair, so I randomised the posts and the ones you see below are yanked arbitrarily from the archive for you to explore.

As with anything this old on the internet, some music plugins, hyperlinks, images, formatting – and, frankly, the writing itself – is broken. But even I will begrudgingly admit that randomly looking at ten years of once-new bands is a fascinating glimpse into a very specific time capsule.

I’m as surprised as anyone that this ridiculous and utterly niche music blog has stumbled around online for a decade, surviving all of my attempts to break it, render it defunct, or let it wither on the vine.  So scroll down and read on – and maybe you’ll find some long-forgotten band from 2009 that you’ll love.


Madeaux: Echoes Of The Kitchen Sink

Where now for bass music and dubstep, post-Skrillex’s industry-crow-barring/acceptance into the mainstream?

While the heady gloop and rumble of bass music has been busy soundtracking almost everything of (self) importance recently, those producing it have scrabbled around looking for its next logical progression.

And it turns out that the (il-)logical progression is a return to UK Garage, whose resurgence is as baffling as it is ludicrous.

This, what for the brave souls who continue to make the music that brought about such unforseen U-turns? It transpires that, if they’re anything like Madeaux, they’re still making enormous, slightly jazzy, bass tunes.

Karma in Reverse – which, if we’re being pedantic, makes the song title Amrak – is a subtle nod to evolution in new and old directions, none of which are UK Garage.

Slivers of warm, Inner City Life-esque drum ‘n’ bass appear and vanish, and golden swashes of house synths breeze through.

It’s not blithe kitchen-sinkism, but by throwing a few other ideas into the mix, Madeaux is gently, in his own way, pushing towards the future.

MORE: soundcloud.com/madeaux

Blue Boats: Feathery

Not to harp on about band names again or anything, but hasn’t Olly Gale done himself a favour by releasing music under the moniker Blue Boats as opposed to the name on his driver’s license?

I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with the name his parents chose, but – and I don’t wish to be mean, Olly – it’s more befitting of someone doing something more normal with their life than recording songs drenched in echo, lust and wonder.

A song like The Fear has all these characteristics, and more: it is the sound of a long, slow, calming sigh being expelled in a warm, night-time rainstorm.


So slumbering and coddling is The Fear that it would have legitimate uses as a sedative in a nursery full of recalcitrant toddlers.

If other recent songs have as successfully reached out and patted the listener’s hand more comfortingly, I can’t think of them. A song of real, feathery beauty.


NB: Now ANBAD is is NYC, I will try and feature local bands, honest. I’m just still too jet-lagged to find them, honest guv.

DREΛMS: Pre/Post Eras

Has Dubstep become a good joke yet?

I mean, the gag about ‘waiting for the drop’ is shoehorned wryly into every other conversation I have about music at the moment, but it’s not so much of a joke as submissive recognition of Dubstep’s current all-pervasiveness.

Still, I’m all for artists, as DREΛMS has, to label their music “pre-Dubstep”, in a frankly devious attempt to erase the present and fork off a new future where the words WUB WUB WUB are even more meaningless than they are right now.

Of course, the cynical question is to ask, “so is Don’t Care Bout Her” yesterday’s music? Well, maybe, or maybe not.


But frankly, that question should be banished too: wherever you pin it onto life’s timeline, DREΛMS’ music is a rush through foggy, billowing wisps of obtuse noise, slow groove and vibed-out vocals.

I sometimes try to imagine songs without certain constituent parts, and wonder what they’d sound like. I can’t picture Don’t Care Bout Her with anything added or taken away. This is a good thing.


>Today’s New band – Fredrik PLUS! Daniel O’Donnell!

>Sometimes it’s just… difficult to buy albums. Often it’s because there are no decent records being released. December is when the annual CD drought kicks in, due to the proliferation of dreadful CDs aimed at the Christmas market. Yet another oxymoronic Katie Melua ‘Best Of’, anyone? Or Daniel O’Donnell‘s Christmas Album? Yes, I’d prefer to drink Gluwein flavoured with bleach too.

Most times though, it’s just the feeling of not knowing where to start. All those CDs, and so little desire to spend fifteen precious minutes being lectured to by the bearded guy behind the counter about the latest release from their favourite unknown Jazz-Funk combo. My favoured fallback option is to plump for a compilation album – the best friend of the unsure or skint. For the same price as a standard album, you get a whole bundle of songs picked by someone else. It’s a bit like borrowing a friend’s iPod and setting it to shuffle.

The great thing with compilation albums is that they work as intended for everyone involved – the listener gets a taste of a load of new bands; the artists, often without the money, or variety of songs to warrant their own album, get published; and the record execs get to cream off another 10% to spend on coke, champagne and hookers. With this all in mind, I can wholeheartedly recommend any of the brilliant compilation CDs from Rough Trade, or the equally ace Studio One series.

Today’s New Band, Fredrik, are probably on a compilation album somewhere. For good reason, too – they’re the second delicious folky band we’ve had in as many days. They hail from Sweden, and somewhat predictably have the Swedish knack for squeezing a great tune into a four minute pop song. fabulously, they manage to make these songs sonically inventive whilst maintaining pop sensibilities.

Alina’s Place is a clicky, puffing and outrageously enjoyable pop-folk song enlivened by what sounds like the tinkling of jars full of water and gentle vocal chanting. It’s so comforting and cosy that if you listened to it whilst sitting in a bean bag and sipping on a mug of cocoa, you might slip into a coma of joy. Holm shuffles like an old man dancing to his favourite song and Angora Sleepwalking lumbers around, confused but happy, before bursting apart in an muddle of plucking and fiddling.

Fredrik are a folky, accessible cross between Sigur Ros and The Kings of Convenience, and much more fun than either. Their songs fuss along, scattering ever-inventive and enjoyably tactile noises on their way. They are poppy one moment and introspective the next, but their gentle, low-key and unassuming music is always sprightly and determinedly exciting. If you’re somewhere cold, like me, Fredrik are the warmth that you need in your life. Lovely. Listen to them here!

Giant Burger: Re-Spawned

Bands don’t usually get second chances on ANBAD.

It’s nothing personal; it’s just the nature of the beast that is ANBAD (and if you’re trying to picture the beast in question, look no further than here.)

Besides, moving relentlessly from one new band to another, without pausing for thought is so de rigueur. I’m just holding a mirror to the music industry, like, yeah?

One band have found a way to sneak through the system: ANBAD’s Fourth Best Band of 2011, who were Baaneex, and have now re-spawned as  Giant Burger. Oh, go on then…



Interestingly/worryingly, Lancelot on the Dole is described by the band as “Doom Meat Pop”.

This is, on reflection, appropriate. It is a giant slab of marbled, meaty prog-folk-rock, of the kind that stopped being cool a long time ago; and yet, here’s a song that makes you wonder if, not for the first time, popular opinion is totally wrong.

Baaneex were/are a band of perverse, complex curiousness, and whilst their new configuration is almost wholly different in appearance, they still have a defiant oddness pervading throughout. Uncool. Great.


Arc Vel – Memory, Objects, and the Journey Between

The hippocampus is little more than a tiny nugget of nerves buried deep within that blancmange inside your skull, but it aids your day-to-day existence in a gratifyingly basic manner: by encouraging your brain to remember things and helping you walk around objects instead of ploughing straight through them like a simpleton.

I mention this for two reasons: to point out that the small things in life often have the greatest and most welcome effects, and that – with that in mind – Arc Vel has a small but perfectly formed musical sweetmeat in Hippocampus.


What is most charming about Hippocampus, and all music like it, is that it seems to be composed of snippets of other lovely songs – which to an extent is entirely true.

The difference with Arc Vel‘s dreamy, anti-brash, anti-form soundscapes is that these other lovely songs may only exist in the world of Arc Vel, and that we’ll never hear them.

No matter. He’s selected the best slivers and woven them into mesmeric, shuffling journeys. Delightful.

MORE: soundcloud.com/arc-vel

Pendentif; Love, Lust and Eponymity

I find French bands endlessly fascinating, for reasons even I can’t fathom.

Perhaps it’s because I spent a lot of my youthful holidays there, listening with quiet bewilderment at the awful pop music on the radio, wondering when a Pulp song was going to appear (it never did).

And so the seed of an idea that French music is all pap was planted. It only occurred to me years later that if a French person came to the UK and listened to local radio stations here, they’d leave with exactly the same conclusions.

It turns out French pop – outside of the mainstream – is peppered with as many delightful curios as that of any other country. I once stumbled upon the Fete de Musique in Cahors, and wandered around in bliss as small bands of all genres played impromptu sets down tiny medieval streets.

Pendentif are the kind of French band that I find easy to love – warm and sunny, mainstream and angular, bright and sad.

Pendentif (the song) is an endlessly cheerful song that has been dipped in melancholy and left to dry in the hot Bordeaux sun. It’s a sly paean to love, lust and friends, wrapped around a cute and direct keyboard-stab. Songs don’t get much more universal than that.

The song Pendentif is from the EP Pendentif by Pendentif. Talk about eponymous. Hey – if you’re going to associate a song with you band’s name, you may as well make it a good one. Great stuff.

MORE: pendentif.bandcamp.com/track/pendentif

TODAY’S BONUS BAND:  Freedom Or Death // FIVE WORD REVIEW: Not anything like Death Metal

>Today’s New Band – The Bumblebees

>There’s something to be said for shy and fey voices in pop. Whilst Axl Rose et al growl, howl and grunt into the microphone, spraying the front row with saliva that is composed of 40% ALL MAN, 40% TESTOSTERONE and 20% COME BACKSTAGE AND BLOW ME, BABY, not everybody’s songs benefit from such overt, Jack-Daniels-and-cigarettes, oversize-codpieced masculinity. Anything that goes some way to redressing the balance is welcome.

So, yup, Today’s New Band, the lovely Bumblebees, are about as thrusting and masculine as Brian Sewell nibbling on cucumber sandwiches. This is A Very Good Thing, as evidenced by their Über-cute and happy songs that litter their Myspace page.

My Kaleidoscope starts and ends with the sugariest, yummiest, bloopy organ-line for, like, ages. This is the song that you’ll play in your head this autumn when you look back fondly to summer and whizz through the memories of playing in the sea on holiday.

Fluffy Clouds Of Joy is a jerky, gentle and twee treat which metamorphoses into a children’s TV show theme tune. It’s also possibly begging for a post-post-post-ironic ‘mash-up’ with the Orb‘s Fluffy Little Clouds, which might cause the twin internet moron tribes of the Tweecore-ers and the Ironic Haircut-ers to either implode with rage (bad) or become best friends, ever (worse).

The Bumblebees are tons of fun in the same way that making your own Lemonade is, and with the similar qualities of sweetness masking sharpness. Great! Listen here, now, youngster!

Huddyrocker – Vowels Must Die

The desperate urge to take every single facile nugget of personal information and mount it, trophy-like on the internet is one of modern society’s more deeply stupid traits.

The worst part is that this online lifestyle-stamp-collecting behaviour is spreading virally into the real world, as anyone who has had to unwillingly devote half an hour of this precious, precious life viewing pictures from Facebook on a mobile phone, whilst sitting in a pub with the person who is in the same photos, will attest.

Perhaps this is the reason that so many artists abandon any attempts to connect with their audience on a personal scale, hiding behind the wall of anonymity that the internet can also offer, and letting their music do all the talking.

Perhaps I should stop complaining about artists who do this, too. Huddyrocker is yet another electronic artist – they’re always electronic artists – who has disappeared under the virtual blanket whilst his music plays.

Huddyrocker, besides owning a name that conjures up images of an Irish pub-rock band that specialises in Status Quo covers, occupies a strange position on the musical spectrum all of his own making; the result of stubbornly jabbed elbows and gritted teeth.

His songs flip-flop from ambient swashes of noise to thumping trance choons, via bizarro-rants and incongruous guitar noodling, resulting in songs like – ahem – €×Þιö∂∈ which are certainly bold, to say the least.

€×Þιö∂∈ happily shuns convention, and veers – frankly – from disaster to triumph within the space of time it takes for one curious loop of dirge-noise to mutate into happy-clapping disco house. Songs and artists like this should be celebrated, because in the new music world, consistency is the enemy.

In fact, only one thing is for sure: Huddyrocker hates both vowels and consonants equally. I mean, come on he has a song called ǝq pןnoɥs noʎ. I don’t even know how you type like that. It’s a topsy-turvy world.

MORE: huddyrocker.bandcamp.com

MIDWEEK MIXTAPE // 14th April 2010

So this weekly bunch of new bands post  is officially A Feature now. Under the guise of  ‘a new band clear-out’, it actually serves a number of purposes – chiefly allowing twice as many bands to feature per week – though if truth be told, it’s mainly existing as an excuse to keep re-running the accompanying photo.

The title’s changed, you’ll notice. A New Band Clear Out kind of undersold it a bit. Midweek Mixtape is nicer – it’s not only an alliteration, which always looks clever, but it also implies that coherent thinking was involved in its construction. This is, of course, a fallacy, but the illusion is comforting.

Thus: this week’s mixtape! Take in the slack with a biro, blow the dust off the tape-head, perform other reminiscently generic C90-cassette tasks, and press play…

First! Razmataz Lorry Excitement – You’re expected to fall into the trap of wondering under what circumstances ‘Razmataz Lorry Excitement’ became this band’s first-choice pick for their name.

Razmataz Lorry Excitement // Trial and Errors
You can download this song for FREE! here

This would be a mistake, because you might be distracted from cowbell-infused bass-groove-laden songs like Trial And Errors. Imagine a super-luxuriant Mr. Oizo, and you’re halfway there. Excellent.

Second! The Half RabbitsIn Spain, I once ate paella from a pan the size of one of those satellite dishes you see on the top of TV broadcast vans at sporting events. In the paella was an entire rabbit, cruelly chopped into six pieces. Thus The Half Rabbits have an advantage of sorts over the one I greedily devoured. These rabbits make the type of cut-and-thrust tinny rock that you though wasn’t made any more. Excellent QUIET-loud straight-laced razor-rock.

Third! Bark Bark Disco – Apparently Song For Lovers is a tribute to 70’s French ‘porn star legend’ Brigitte Lahaie. I’ve never heard of her *cough*. The song, fittingly, is cheap ‘n’ cheerful, pretty and surprisingly tender. Just like porn. Right?

Last! Jonathan Sakas has one hell of a fringe. Seriously, just look at the damn thing on his Myspace page. It’s like a huge comma on his forehead. A delightful sight to behold. His music is like a pop version of the Blade Runner soundtrack, and so is as synth-drenched, overblown and borderline ridiculous as that sounds. But all good music teeters on the brink of mockery, and so his songs are part of a grand tradition of tip-toeing along the tightrope of failure and surviving – smiling, resplendent and triumphant.

Another mixtape will be furtively passed to you, under the table during French double class, next week. Naturellement.