A New Band A Day 2008-2018

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

However, ANBAD also has over 1200 posts featuring about 1500 artists. Most are buried deep 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 of the music players, hyperlinks, images, formatting – and, frankly, the writing itself – are 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. I’ll post something longer soon, probably around the Official ANBAD 10th Birthday in April; but for now, scroll down and read on – and maybe you’ll find some long-forgotten band from 2009 that you’ll love.




There’s something about Krista Papista’s rough ‘n’ ready, cut ‘n’ paste, chop ‘n’ change pop that is deeply satisfying, deeply jarring and deeply un-now.

By being all those things, Bad F is also 100% now. And yet it sounds like daring music of the past. Argh.

There’s something in the attitude, the delivery, the lyrics and the snarl that bypasses the tedium of Tumblr-first Image-House™ music and drags her songs straight up to the edge.

It’s so odd to hear something even slightly out of step with the banality of most new ‘edgy’ music, that this song made me sit up in my seat. Good stuff.

The Best Of ANBAD 2010 // Interviews

Now that you’re lying comatose in front of the fire and pondering on the fact that your intestines are now 80% solid Turkey meat, why not drag yourself away from the dull repeats on the TV, and read some excellent repeats here on ANBAD?

Wait – unless it’s Die Hard on TV. Watch until the end of that, and then read on.

There was a glut of interviews with exciting and thrusting young bands this year on ANBAD, all of which gave us a glimpse into the thrills of belonging to a new band. Here are four of the best:

Egyptian Hip Hop: Britain’s Best New Band // Sample quote: “At the moment, we’re happy to keep everyone guessing. In a year, maybe they’ll know more about us and then people’s opinion is out our hands. And when people think they’ve got us down, we’ll do the complete opposite.”

D/R/U/G/SBritain’s Other Best New Band // Sample quote: “We get the Orbital comparison a lot. To be honest though, I’ve never heard any of their music…”

Islet – Out There, Somewhere: A Band Cutting Their Own Furrow // Sample quote: “We’re always more interested in how people react in the real world, at a gig than in the realms of The Internet. It’s a shame that the word ‘hoopla’ isn’t used instead of hype, it’s more fun.”

Run Toto Run – Rebirth In Electronics // Sample quote: “Music sounds fasterer when you’re drunk.”

SUBALTERN – Brass in Pocket

Occasionally, in between making tremendously uneven life decisions and listening to crackly pop songs from the Ukraine, a question crosses my mind: what happens now to the artists who don’t want to play live gigs?

This one troubles me.

Gig tickets are more readily available than ever, and in a monumentally depressed music market, we’re encouraged  – by promoters, artists and media alike – to file dutifully along and go to live shows.

And in many ways, this is fine.

But what if, say, Subaltern doesn’t want to play live?

This may be a moot point – for all I know, Subaltern is currently on a five-month tour of south-east Asia – but let’s say they don’t want to, or can’t because they have a young family, or whatever.

Does that mean they are condemned to sit out the money-earning element of musical artistry until the world changes and recorded music becomes a cultural event worth paying for again? And that their capability to put time aside to make more music is compromised?


Subaltern are probably eager to play live and spread their big, broad house racket all over the world’s fleapits, mid-sized venues and festival stages, and it’d be worth all our whiles: Ephemeral, obvious title aside, is the kind of music that would send you into big, dizzy daydreams whether in a dance tent or in your bedroom.

Wouldn’t it be nice if either option put some brass in their pockets though?

MORE: soundcloud.com/subaltern-official

Petter Seander: Tea and Symphony

I usually need no extra incentive to listen to another chunk of Swedish lo-fi guitar pop.

Listening to a new Scandinavian band is like taking part in a lucky dip where the prizes are hidden amongst other prizes. It’s surprisingly hard to go wrong.

Swedish jangle-pop is about as close to a sure bet as you get in the world of new bands. They’re almost universally exciting, quirky or dreamy. Sometimes they’re all three.

Kudos is reserved for Petter Seander, who successfully gilded the lily by not only providing the requisite slice of blissfully skewed scuzzy pop, but by giving away free tea with every purchase of Fortune Cookies. Free tea!

Fortune Cookies arrives neatly bundled with not only some elderflower tea, but also a recipe for hazelnut cookies. I’m sure these gifts are carefully chosen to accompany a song that – genuinely – brings a smile to the face of its listeners.

Even when Petter croons, ‘nothing lasts forever,‘ the sentiment is met with a shrug and a dizzy shake of the head. Lovely, soaring, tinkling, jittering, perfect pop. Excellent.


PS – The good people at the Hype Machine lost their minds and asked me to appear on their radio show. It’s a great listen, until I start jabbering, natch. Listen: hypem.com/radio

Pinkunoizu: Super-Slo-Mo Surf Pop

Living in fear is bad, mmmkay, but we humans are all guilty of such indulgences.

Let’s share:

I live in fear that one day all of the people living in the Scandinavian countries will wake up having forgotten how to make blissful pop music.

There, I said it. Hey, I didn’t say the fears had to be existential or anything.

By the looks of things, my doomsday scenario will probably not come to pass.  Pinkunoizu, from Copenhagen, appear with yet another deliriously shimmering pop song; trippy, crystal clear and feeding off its own sugary outpourings.


Time Is Like a Melody keeps evolving right before our very ears, throughout the song, throughout its own time-span.

Delicious, super-slo-mo surf pop slumps weightily into drifting polyrhythms and crunching, misplaced guitar solos. It’s a smörgåsbord (sorry) of silken, slithering sounds.

Apparently Pinkunoizu is Japanese for… well, you can probably figure that out for yourself. Apparently, pink noise does actually exist, along with grey noise, violet noise and, er, brown noise.

Pink noise is an especially dense version of white noise, hypnotically obliterating all other sound. Apt. Great.

MORE: pinkunoizu.com

TD Cruze: A Reluctant Hero

As a minor Beastie Boys obsessive, and rabid consumer of Golden Age Of Hip Hop™ LPs, I often find myself wondering why the art of sampling is under-utilised so much now.

When I say ‘sampling’, I mean in the late-80s/early-90s MPC60 sense – when simple snippets of songs were looped and divvied-up and reconstructed into new, harshly insistent songs.

Yes, yes, the practice was sued out of existence – but today, when blogs and Soundcloud offer so many illicit and grey-area outlets for home-made, profit-free music, shouldn’t we be witnessing a renaissance?

Well maybe we are. TD Cruze knows that sampling may well be standard practice now in terms of its usefulness, but his approach is determinedly old-school. And focussed: his latest collection of sharp beats and clever constructions are based around samples from – what else? – The Twilight Zone.


TD Cruze’s last EP was built entirely out of samples of animal noises. I like gimmicks, especially when one is executed with such panache, lightness and verve.

In an era when spookily-noised R’n’B-influenced songs are de rigueur, songs like Peaceful Valley find themselves fitting in by mistake: sparse and squeaky, nagging and poppy, odd but appealing. If he de-tuned the voices, added some Neo-2Step clicky beats and threw in a ∆ into his name, he’d probably be hailed as a hero.

MORE: tdcruze.bandcamp.com

Subburbia: Yes/No

Having just experienced my first Superbowl, I can exclusively confirm exactly three important facts about the performer of this year’s half-time show, the weirdly pillow-faced Madonna.

Firstly, her music still leaves me as cold as a polar bear’s lollipop: a career that no amount of tedious forced controversy can redeem.

Secondly, her composition is now 70% sinew, 20% gristle and a remarkable 10% human; and thirdly, when your biggest gig in years is upstaged by not only a bored-looking MIA but also a man bouncing up and down on a rope, it might be time to consider finally giving up.

Subburbia have yet to be upstaged by a circus performer, but surely it’s only a matter of time (and, in all honesty, I feel that this is reasonably true for most of the human race).


Apparently Subburbia are annoyed that the Brazilian press keep comapring them to CSS, which is understandable, as they sound virtually nothing like Lovefoxx and co.

You’re Not Getting Younger is one of those songs that I spend too long flip-flopping over: do I really like it, or just, you know, a bit? In the place of a firm decision, it has ended up on ANBAD, and in an almighty cop-out, you are now invited to be the judge.

What’s unavoidable is that Subburbia‘s knack of throwing a hefty quasi-metal choruses into twinkly, buzzy pop songs is a crafty trick – one which some will find jarring (possibly me) and others will see as an arresting musical punch (also possibly me), and the fact that I’m agonising over their merit at all is almost certainly a good sign.

MORE: soundcloud.com/subburbia

Nutíd – Minimal Disquiet

Last year there was a smash the system land-grab of the once-coveted Christmas Number One slot in the UK, as the latest Cowell-protegé X-Factor moppet was beaten to their standard chart slot by a concerted effort to get Rage Against The Machine there as, like, a protest, yeah?

Inevitably, this year a similar proto-revolt is taking place, albeit with a slightly more wry bent. But in trying to get John Cage’s 4’33” to number one, what is being said? That the X-Factor isn’t art? That silence is preferable to some mawkish, cobbled-together TV spin-off song? Or is it simply ‘LOL’?

The truth probably lies somewhere amongst all those thought-puddles. The simplicity of the idea, and of  Cage’s concept, is what appeals the most. Simplicity, generally, will always succeed. This is an idea that Nutíd have wholly embraced.

Nutid //Capricorn Hill

Theirs is a sound that wavers between ultra-minimal and densely enveloping, though identifying exactly when the transition takes place is the hard part. Capricorn Hill’s half-folk, half-art swoon hits like a tiny ice-cold tsunami teasing listeners into daydreams of their making.

It turns out that Nutid is also the name of a range of kitchen appliances at Ikea that are functional, anonymous, mass market, and simple. Nutíd could only reasonably be compared to the latter. Beautiful, dizzying, and all the more disquieting because of it.


Inventors: Involving, Industrial

Of all the things that SXSW is – sprawling, overly dense, thrillingly involving – it’s perhaps the things that it isn’t which give it true identity.

Thus, SXSW is a place that isn’t a proving ground for new bands on the cusp of discovery, and it isn’t a place to come for anything other than an extended good time/exercise in deeeep networking.

Those are not bad things, but are close to the truth. SXSW is a well-oiled machine, designed to pump people, bands and media in, and churn money, power and influence out.

Inventors understands the value of simplified process too.

There is a calming metronomic simplicity in mechanically evolving songs like Schizophrenics; songs that select base functionality over of-the-moment genre-ified effects.

Thus, Schizophrenics pulses with fanatical insistence, its choppiness multiplying the effectiveness of the song’s ambition, rather than stifling it. Simplicity and patience are its enviable virtues.

Mildly warped sample-snippets pile precisely on top of one another, and the song doesn’t build as much as it self-assembles. Inventors provides a taut, slight, laser-guided exercise in dance groove. And it’s brilliant.


>Today’s New Band – Death of Concorde PLUS! Changes are afoot!

>The A New Band A Day Internet Monkey has been hard at work behind the scenes recently. Changes are afoot, and shortly, ANBAD will ‘relaunch’ (i.e. look a bit different, but not too different) with a whole host of ‘new’ and ‘exciting’ ‘features’ to scroll unexcitedly through before clicking on the link to The Onion.

If you are one of the zillions of our lovely email-subscribing readers, have one last look at the old site – it’ll make you feel even more underwhelmed when the new one is whelped, jaundiced and screaming into the internet world. Otherwise hold tight and prepare for wide-ranging, skyscraping* change!

People don’t like change, as a rule. In ANBAD‘s case, change was deemed necessary because the website looks a bit like it was cobbled together by a computer-illiterate colour-blind idiot with a mild obsession with vinyl-munching robots. In music, band after band claw onto what they know and daren’t change a thing. As anyone who has attended a business seminar and is well versed in corporate bullshit will know – sharks have to keep moving, or they die. If we extrapolate this information to the music world, this makes Oasis a dead Hammer-Head.

We hold the most admiration for bands who, at the very least, try something new. So here’s Death Of Concorde, Today’s New Band, trying something new. The fruity-sounding Bath Partners is a jittering delight, lush and sparse all at once. Old Hammond organs swoosh about, deforming and collapsing into new sounds as and when needed. Communism is a song title that sounds like it ought to be on Side Two of David Bowie‘s Low, but wouldn’t fit, what with it being a mentalist, mechanoid monster of a song, sampling both heavy metal riff-o-rama and fairground organs.

It sounds like Death of Concorde are eager to squeeze the wrong shaped blocks into the wrong holes, and manage to do it too, without their sounds becoming either a mess or contrived. Concorde Museum shimmers, wanes and echoes like a tape recording of an orchestra put through a guitar chorus effect pedal, always just on the right side of becoming all-out white noise. Melodic and dense, it’s a soundscaping delight, pushing textures here and there excitedly.

So, as you hold your breathe excitedly for the ALL! NEW! ANBAD!, why not tune in and space out with Death of Concorde, and ease your passage into oxygen-starved unconsciousness…

*actually quite minor