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.


VLAD: Toque la Guitarra

Whoah, when was the last time a guitar band was on ANBAD? It must be, like ages ago, yeah?

Well, it was actually only a couple of weeks ago, but that really is an age in the mesmerisingly flighty world of new music.

Still, it is evidence (if, by ‘evidence’ you mean ‘anecdotal guesswork’) that guitar-based music is, if not in decline, in a bit of a slump. I can’t put my finger on the exact reasons, but my guess is that the post-Britpop period where guitars primarily became posing devices skewed a couple of generations’ idea of what a guitar actually is. 

Which is to say: a lump of wood and wire that can convey pretty much whatever emotion you like, if you press your fingers onto it in the right way. Riffs are secondary. Appropriately, VLAD gently nudge both sounds and feelings from their guitars.

I get the impression that their sound evolved from many hours of playing together, rather than the drab “hey guys, let’s form a Genre X band!” starting point.


Caramel, kinky and enticing, is one of those songs that has an innate understanding: guitar music and those who play it have many needs, but also have limitations. The balance here is just about right – the songs caress and sooth, prickle and abrase. It’s a lovely song without ego.

VLAD consider this and its sister songs demos: I say, release them as-is – they work.

NB: The Spanish don’t ‘play’ guitars. They toque la guitarra – touch the guitar. The concept is different: touching implies coaxing, communication. Playing is a one-way street. VLAD know this.


>October’s Top Five New Bands!

Ah, October, the month that plays merry sartorial havoc with outergarment selection. On the first day of the year that pulling on the goose-down lined half-coat/half-duvet for the first time seems like the correct, mother-pleasing thing to do, warmth and sun inevitably follow.

Likewise, after donning a flimsy cagoule the next day, the wind and rain lash cruelly. October, you cannot compensate for such mischievousness with mere orange leaves, you know.

Luckily for us, October’s new bands actually tried to cheer us up – a typically motley crew of the good, the weird and the grouchy (see # 1 for more).

So, in no particular order:

Nutrition On Tape – ANBAD said: “Nutrition On Tape‘s music is a jabbering, eddying salute to the last 30 years’ pop music. Songs waft in through the window and tickle your ears: tomorrow today. Clever, bright and alive.”

Ace Bushy Striptease – ANBAD said: “Ace Bushy Striptease are a band brimming with youth, fun coming out of their eyeballs and an ear for a great tune. Expect great things”

Swing Youth – ANBAD said: “Simple things done simply. Swing Youth are a lovable bunch, with a selection of songs that demand dancing. They’re happy and alive, and happy to be alive. Nice hair, too.”

We Aeronauts – ANBAD said: “We Aeronauts are charmers: intelligent, educated and talented. If you met them in a bar, you’d ask them out on a date.”

And October’s Best New Band Is…

Egyptian Hip HopANBAD said: “The drummer wore a swine-flu face mask. The band swapped instruments for each song. No smiles were cracked at any point. They were so androgynous, they may have been bred in giant petri dishes.”

Listen, we thought we’d hate them too, especially after everything we were told about them. But they’re great – a band whose crafty creativity is equalled by the sheer bulk of hair balancing on their heads.

So congratulations Egyptian Hip Hop! Not that they’ll be pleased – even if the slenderest of smiles form on their faces, they won’t be seen though the fringes. The grumpy so-and-so’s.

>Today’s New Band – Juno PLUS! Picking Up Bad Vibrations!

>Hilariously, there are workmen working directly above where I’m typing this. They are using power tools that resonate with the exact frequency that:

a) makes everything in the room vibrate unpleasantly, including my eyeballs
b) makes the sound you’d expect to hear if you were one of the trees in a Woody Woodpecker cartoon
c) is so deep and resonant that it may cause spontaneous bowel evacuation (I’ll keep you informed about this one)

I always contended that there was no sound that was so awful that some sort of pleasure couldn’t be derived from it if arranged properly. Look at the Drillcore scene and some of Aphex Twin‘s more esoterically ‘difficult’ music for ideas. However, I now realise that I was being wildly optimistic and probably a bit tree-hugging-peace-and-love to boot. There is, it turns out, such thing as irredeemably bad noise, and it’s currently being vibrated into me at about 100 decibels.

The weakening effect of the noise has shaken out a confession: I should have picked up Today’s New Band, Juno, a good twelve months ago. Shocking isn’t it? In an attempt to put a positive spin on such a poor showing, I’m convinced that this is purely because there is so much good new music around at the moment that they just never got through.

Juno should have popped up on my radar almost instantly because of their association with Manda Rin, of Bis fame. She pops up here and there on their songs, puncturing the noise hyperactively and as idiosyncratically as ever.

On Party Music, the lolloping relationship between the guitar and drums reminds me a bit of Happy Mondays, and this can only be a suitably happy comparison to draw. Jet Set Juno is a weirdnik Teen-C/electro-rock squash-up that sounds like it belongs as the theme song to the imaginary TV show featuring the cartoons you used to doodle at the back of French Class at school. These Boys Are Athletes has been rattling around for a year, but it’s still as much of a chant-along futuro-pop monster as it was a year ago, all power chords and carefree bleeping.

It’s always a joy to hear a band that are clearly drawing a huge amount of fun just from being in a band together. Juno are like that. It’s an even bigger joy when the band in question make music that’s just as much fun to listen to as well. Juno are like that too.

Juno‘s songs would go down just as well in an Indie disco as in a roomful of sugar-buzzed 8 year olds. That’s about as happy a recommendation as you’ll get. So check them out here!

Blouse: Floaty, Gossamer, Billowy

Whilst ANBAD’s mutation from Quasi-Respected New Music Portal into Band-Name-Obsessed Daily Word-Splurge may be mildly embarrassing, one fact remains: band names do actually matter – just probably not quite as much as I think they do.

‘Blouse’, for instance, may well instinctively sound like the name of a hopeless tailcoat-riding Britpop band from 1995, but if that instant association was to put you off, you’d be missing a genuine treat.

Moreover, Blouse suits this band simply perfectly: floaty, gossamer, billowy and slightly sexy.


Videotapes could, in fact, be one of the most truly excellent songs so far this year. That it could easily soundtrack a thousand shockingly expensive car TV adverts is of no fault of the band itself – more a confirmation of their talents.

Because buried deep within its warped synths, clobbering drums and breathy vocals lies a pristine and simple 4-square pop song; hooks, choruses and progressions all in the right place, at the right time.

Much of Blouse’s music was recorded in an old warehouse. There’s something unspeakably seedy about a band called Blouse recording a song like Videotapes in a location like that. Excellent.

MORE: blouseblouse.com

FANS, The Minx and The Ever-Faster Vortex of Churn

minxfansAs much as it rarely does me (or anyone else) any good to engage the cogs and think, I have been thinking a bit recently about the part cool plays in the emergence of new bands.

It seems to these eyes at least that, as the ‘industry’ has imploded and the artists have become more influential on their own upward trajectory, that – weirdly – cool has become a more important factor than ever before.

Why weirdly? Because I assumed that, when technology set us all free from our record biz slavemasters, we would also be able to cast off the shackles of cool a bit, and that haircuts and scowling photos would count less than before.

Instead, we are witnessing an arms race of cool, with bands endlessly circling one another, eyeballing to makes sure they have the right moody photos, the right Topshop clothing, the correct typeface for their de rigueur bandname.

Bands always copy one another, sure, but now the churn rate is so fast I worry that the songs themselves don’t have time to breathe, grow, and mutate into, you know, good songs.

Here are two bands. They’re both very good young new bands.

I think they’ll both become successes in their own way. In terms of cool, one is really on-point with now, and one isn’t.

There is no wrong approach here, but this difference is worth acknowledging.

First, FANS – a talented bunch from (I think) the north of the UK. They’ve recorded a bunch of ambitious and expansive demos, and All This Time is a great example of their punchy, tuneful, keep-it-simple-stupid ethos.

All This Time has a bunch of surprisingly poppy hooks that will keep the song spinning in your mind. This knack for a chorus is their trump card, and they ought to progress nicely as a result.

So, FANS are prioritising songs over everything else, happily. They also, for want of a better phrase, ‘fit’ the image of a new band right now. Their B&W imagery, their slight anonymity, the kerning of the font used for their bandname, and the aural references are on-trend.

Please note that I’m not saying this is a bad thing in any way, or a cynical ploy, I’m just saying they are very now, and this is fine.

Compare them to The Minx, a band who also have good pop tunes, the right musical ethos and a very specific image.

It’s just that they’re not cool, not now. Which band feel easier to love?

I think Forest Bank is a spot-on pop song with a chorus that bounces like crazy. The band appealed to me because of their songs but also because they are so visually and sonically opposed to the vast majority of their peers.

I also know that some people see the band’s shirts and haircuts and shoes and the fact that they look like they are from a housing estate (they are) and that they smile in their photos, and that these people automatically engage their Cool Filter, and conclude that they’re terrible.

It’s hard to be objective about music – that is clearly not the point – but when I see these opinion being spouted I get a bit furious, because whether you like The Minx‘s songs or not, you can’t avoid the positives: they have a bunch of hooky pop songs, they connect with a real-world audience, they fill good venues with ease, etc.

I hope people are broad-minded enough to listen to FANS and The Minx and judge both accordingly on their individual merits. I hope they will embrace both as good new bands.

I know this won’t happen. I also hope the current slavish addiction to cool dissipates a bit, because if certain bands who don’t fulfil a narrow-minded, middle-class, quasi-bohemian criteria get overlooked through sheer snobbery, we will all lose.

MORE: soundcloud.com/f-a-n-s / soundcloud.com/the-minx

NB – Full disclosure: I also know The Minx via various bits of promo work in one of my real jobs. I think they’re a good band regardless, and I think the above point would stand either way; but feel free to factor this in.

Times New Viking: Blank Euphoria and Wingdings

Funny how people will obsess over the minutiae in life.

Just look at typographic obsessives, for whom the world of typefaces is much more exciting than you might think.

Stop yawning at the back. Where you and I regard scrolling through the drop down menu of fonts in Microsoft Word as a minor distraction on our route to selecting Arial, they see it as a delicious opportunity to revisit some dear old friends.

The fact that there is a movie entirely dedicated to the Helvetica font tells you as much about our confused times as it does the people it is made for.

Despite their amalgamative name, Times New Viking are not font obsessives pushing their revolutionary typeface agenda on an unsuspecting public via the medium of lo-fi indie. Instead, their personal compulsion is the manufacture of butterfly-wing fragile, reedy guitar lullabies.

No Room To Live begins with what sounds like a collective sigh of noise from their instruments, like that of a lover dragging themselves up to give it one last go with a complicated partner.

The song isn’t melancholy though – instead the feeling of blank euphoria reverbs throughout, and we feel their mixture of love, loss and dusty happiness.

Besides, if Times New Viking really wanted to annoy people, they’d make sure that there was a contractual obligation in place to ensure that their name was always spelt in Comic Sans or Wingdings. Now that’s revolutionary.

Until then, their beautiful music will have to do. Excellent. // www.timesnewviking.net

TODAY’S BONUS BAND: Woobbes // FIVE WORD REVIEW: Euphoric, fidgity house bezerker alert!

She Ripped: Disproportionate

Wales, as has been noted in many outlets on many occasions, produces a disproportionate quantity of good music for a country of its size.

It’s always been my theory that part of this can be chalked up to the – ahem – stubborn Welsh demeanour, a mindset fuelled by years of being on the receiving end of a bad deal from the big, grumpy country it borders.

Still, hundred of years of cultural oppression is a small price to pay for some great pop music, right?

She Ripped hail from Cardiff, and are another band who are struggling to get out of Wales – so that they can get back in again. Wales provides a funny route map. It won’t matter so much if they keep spitting out angular, outré, outsider songs like Ultra-Social Happy Man.


Angry in its own lethargic manner, Ultra-Social Happy Man might even feel a little disassociated with itself. Maybe the band are angrier than they think.

Whatever the collective state of mind, She Ripped take great delight in songs that turn abrupt, jagged corners, and thrust the results at us – ostensibly in expectation of appreciation, but I suspect they’d be just as happy with disgust. They’ll only find the former here. Great, cranky stuff.

MORE: sheripped.bandcamp.com

>Today’s New Band – Now, Now Every Children

>Say what you like about Oasis’ Noel Gallagher – and it’s not uncommon for these opinions to be accompanied by rolling of eyes and/or heavy sighing – but the man gives good soundbite.

This article in UK right-wing red-top rag The Sun is further proof that Noel should unburden himself of the task of writing drab pub rock and become a full-time commentator on Liam Gallagher’s wellbeing.

Quotes like, “He’s the angriest man you’ll ever meet. He’s like a man with a fork in a world of soup,” are far too good to be interrupted by long sessions in the studio to produce more plodding MOR songs. (It’s also kind of cute that The Sun suddenly finds itself coy enough to use asterisks to censor such corrupting words like ‘arse’ and ‘knobhead’.)

Today’s New Band are a world away from middle aged rock bloat, but who knows – give them 20 years and maybe they’ll succumb too. In the meantime, enjoy Now, Now Every Children for their youth and vigour.

Everyone You Know is a barnstormer of a song, in turns luscious and rawkus, the vocals honey-sweet, the guitars acid and taut. Cars – stand down Numanoids, it’s not a Gary Numan cover – harshly beats a bare drum and slips almost accidentally into a noisy climax.

Now, Now Every Children are detached and distant but induce a strange and strong sense of intimacy. Their songs will always be theirs, no matter how hard you may try to make them your own. Maybe one day they’ll fire off endearingly crude witticisms about their siblings, but for now be happy just to listen to their songs, and hope it doesn’t happen.

The Modus Torn: Half Missing

The hardest part about painting someone’s portrait is not trying to attain a perfect  likeness of the sitter – it’s knowing when to stop adding more paint.

It turns out that The Modus Torn broached the same issue, albeit with sound, not something squeezed out of a tube.

Suddenly has an entirely ill-fitting title – slowly uncoiling mumbled sounds from a different time, a different place.


There’s something half-finished or half-missing about this track, and this vagueness is not a flaw – it’s actually the song’s greatest strength.

An almost out-of-sync guitar line, and lyrics that may or may not be there at all, seep gently into one another. It’s a song that teeters precipitously on the edge of uselessness, but doesn’t fall.

The Modus Torn stopped at exactly the right moment. It might have been a mistake, it might have been deliberate. But it worked.

NB: There are no pictures of The Modus Torn anywhere. Above is a picture of the Renault Modus. Close enough.

MORE: soundcloud.com/modus-torn

Pregnant – Minimally Vague

It’s a sign of the times that music-making is becoming democratised at a quicker rate than some dubiously-run countries.

And now musicians have the freedom they’ve always wanted, they can move onto dealing with the next step – getting them heard over the white noise of everyone else doing the same thing.

In the meantime, let’s appreciate the wonderful advantages of this democratic system: artists like the distant, airy Pregnant.

Maybe Pregnant‘s subtly constructed wonder-pop is a sign of the conflation of the old and the new that you’d expect to have happened sooner.

Gentle, careful and dreamy, Pregnant’s Letter To A Friend is just as influenced by the never-ending momentum of the drum machine as it is by the wistful folk and cloudy psych that is eventually most prominent.

This artificial drive doesn’t allow the song to drift into self-indulgence, and so we are all winners, left with a song that is taut and minimal whilst billowy and vague. A blissful bridging of the gaps.