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.


TV BUDDAHS: The Message Is The Message

It’s hard to dislike the premise: three Israelis, living in Berlin, making Dinosaur Jr.-esque crunch-pop.

And Lo!: so it proves to be, indeed, a tasty proposition: TV BUDDAHS possess something near-intangible that elevates their buzzy clatter above all most of the other bands who have decided to wear baggy clothes and let their hair grow out.

As usual, we are left  pondering, like three decades of puzzled art students before us, whether the medium is the message, or the message the medium.

Most bands adopt musical styles out of an attempt to pre-empt the next wave of short-term musical revisionism, whilst you get the feeling that others would be making that kind of noise whether it was fashionable or not. TV BUDDAHS are that kind of band.

Just Another Day In My Head: at least the title is honest about its navel-gazing nihilism. Compared to the vast bulk of grungy, crunchy power-pop I often endure, this song has panache, melody and bags of style to spare.

TV BUDDAHS‘ songs swoop, then soar, then scuttle away before starting all over again. A genuinely lo-fi delight.

MORE: www.tvbuddhas.com

MIDWEEK MIXTAPE // 28th September 2011

ANBAD has returned from a break in Barcelona, Europe’s Most Hash-Scented City™, where the supposed relaxation was punctured with the realisation that Barcelona’s pop music is a truly soul-shaking blend of Depeche Mode and happy-clappy moron-o-dance.

Note that this mixture of music is not in the same song – yet. Surely the creation of such a bowel-loosening monstrosity will only be a matter of time.

Now that the ANBAD Midweek Mixtape is the official Alex James Cheese Resource, here’s a picture of him getting into the Catalan spirit with his ‘Spudsworth melting cheese’.


FIRST: Hey, what do you think of the burgeoning Slovakian music scene? What do you mean, you haven’t heard any Slov-pop? In that case, Odd Logic can be your primary port of call, with burbling and discombobulating clicky dance music to make your head spin and nod all at once.


SECOND: First They Took Manhattan classify themselves as Doom Pop. Do not confuse this with Doom Metal, which is something entirely (and ludicrously) different. Their songs are indeed a bit gloomy, but wholly pleasant all the same. Life’s a bit like that.


THIRD: Sneak Peek have set themselves up for a fall, haven’t they? When they’re seven albums in to their globe-straddling career and playing Wembley Stadium, their songs won’t be a sneak peek of anything any more. Time does that to songs. Still, while the songs are still green and new, enjoy what are literally sneak peeks into Sneak Peek: lullabies with fuzzy guitars.


FINALLY: Washington Irving have a band name that is surely a lawsuit waiting to happen. So before the writ is served, get stuck into the delightfully – and here’s a word I usually try to avoid – heartfelt songs in their canon. Mmm, jangly.

Sharing Is Caring… New Band Tips For Autumn, From Bloggers, For YOU

The Crown Paints Get-Your-Band’s-Music-On-A-TVAd competition has been running for less than two weeks, and has already been flooded with entries.

Trawling though the entries has had a happy secondary effect, in that a whole raft of hitherto-unknown new bands have been discovered.

So, excited – and slightly overwhelmed – by this New Band Glut, ANBAD threw caution to the wind, and decided to ask some of the UK’s tip-top and most influential music blogs – namely the thrice-brilliant Von Pip Musical Express, Bowlegs and The Devil Has The Best Tuna – to suggest their tips for the latter half of 2010.

The question was simple: which new bands’ music have you loved recently? And guess what? They kindly suggested a shed-load of great new bands, and none of them were suggested twice by any two bloggers. To reiterate: there’s lots of great new bands out there…

Andy from the excellent, interview-laden Von Pip Musical Express suggested these bands, all of whom are from the delightfully tuneful end of the musical spectrum:

Allo Darlin’ – “Chiming with an infectious youthful exuberance.”

Run Toto Run – “Shimmering understated beauty.”

The Good Natured – “Brilliant, brooding electro pop.”

Paul from The Devil Has The Best Tuna has crowbarred a pun into the title of his blog, an act which instantly endeared him to me. I love puns. I also love these bands he suggested:

What Would Jesus Drive? “…have produced a contender for track of the year.”

Boycotts“Shimmering, jangly brit-pop of the kind that seems to have been unfairly judged as passe.”

Paperfangs – “It’s up to the music to speak for itself and boy does it speak for itself.”

And finally, Gavin from the perceptive, super and perceptively super Bowlegs, whelped this duo in our direction, before stepping back to admire the results:

Various Cruelties“Songs that dig that little bit deeper. Various Cruelties are, without doubt, a step ahead of most.”

Sweet Lights – “A warm embrace of sweet voices, jangled guitars and a safe-haven for welcoming melody.”

A huge thanks to all the bloggers who graciously contributed such excellent suggestions.

And remember – if you’re in a band, and fancy having your band’s song on a huuuuge TV advert, win a recording session and a whole host of other career/profile/ego-boosting stuff, enter the competition here.

Warrior Monks. Or Wait, It Might Be WaMoo Papez Again. Hmm. [FREE DOWNLOAD]

ANBAD has been thinking a lot about identity.

Specifically, a change of one: it seems like ANBAD is – well – just a smidgen out of step with the zeitgeist.

Just look, for example, at the glut of bands who are all frantically trying to typographically one-up each other; vowels are omitted, or swapped with X’s or V’s or triangles, or currency symbols.

And this mindless, and yet crucially ‘now’, phenomenon is happening to all sorts of artists, all over the world: CHVRCHES and CURXES – two bands who, because of their chosen spellings, are totally indecipherable in my mind – lead the way, but they are in a very elite group of chubby-fingered typists: Alt-J (∆) and A$AP ROCKY are also shaking up the linguistic paradigm with their band names.

There are many more.

So ANBAD needs to catch up. It already has the obligatory CAPS LETTERS, but here, after much deliberation, is the all-new-and-improved ∆NX∆D:

Gotta keep up with The Kids.

And talking of names, here’s the marvellously-monkiered Warrior Monks, a group who are produced by the equally bonkers-named ANBAD  ∆NX∆D alumni, WaMoo Papez:


Wait. I think I’m confused by all this naming and re-naming. This song might just be a WaMoo Papez solo thing, albeit kind-of something to do with Warrior Monks.

Frankly, who cares? All bands are essentially side-projects of one another  nowadays. Just get stuck into the deep, delicious and downright drowsy loops and beats of Poppy, a song that waxes and wanes and snaps and clatters in the most satisfying manner you can imagine.

Maybe we’re better off not knowing something as irrelevant as the artist’s name, especially when a song is this excellent.

MORE: soundcloud.com/warrior-monks

>Today’s New Band – Buen Chico

>Sometimes, it’s easy to dismiss bands for just sounding like…a band. You know – twangly guitars, drums and nice harmonies. Since the majority of bands are tyring to sound like they’ve just stepped out of the DeLorean from 1981, it’s easy to forget that not everyone wants to sound like Wire. Nothing’s wrong with that in itself, but there’s some sort of pure pleasure to be had from shunning your peers and going back to jangly basics.

Hence: Today’s New Band, Buen Chico. That kind-of means ‘good guy’ in Spanish – not that it’s particularly important – but we like the idea of providing Edutainment here at A New Band A Day. Buen Chico are Good Indie, in that they aren’t twee, but are a bit cute; they have a basic sonic template, but without being derivative. Giving Your Gifts is a great example of this – a simple, breezy singalong that would get any indie disco dancing around its ironically nostalgic handbag.

Gold From Lead, if anything, is even more jaunty, and veers into the ‘lovely’ territory during the chorus, the point where wistful and happy meet, twirling around each other like sugar-demented kids at a wedding. Hooray! Listen to them here, right now!

**PS – Apologies for the lateness of yesterday’s post – technical issues. Stupid internets.**

>Today’s New Band – L’Aurore

Christ, there were a lot of unread emails in my inbox. I hope any of you who kindly emailed in weren’t too distraught when you received the soulless/mindless automated email reply only seconds after your sweaty fingers clicked ‘Send’.

But here, in the small discrete bubble of internet access that is to be found in Slovenia, I’ve had a chance to partially redress the awfully skewed balance, and have had the not-unlovely experience of pairing the visceral delights of Slovene woodland with listening to the usual, brilliantly motley, crew of suggested bands.
One such band got in touch while I was toiling in the Mid-Euro Wifi Dead Zone, and said that I should listen to their music “as I walk around on my trip.”After having blown all my cash getting as far as Mitteleurope (leaving me a bit unsure of how to get home, frankly), walking and listening to things are among the few luxuries I can still afford, so I took L’Aurore‘s advice.
Well – they were right. Their music is the kind of expansive, gilded post-rock that suits such strenuous activities as watching the world go by and looking at tree-covered mountains. El Corazon Humano, tender, thumping and relaxed, played as I sat by a clear Alpine river, and the two flowed together; imperceptible, restful and golden.

Before We Explode soundtracked some otherwise quiet moments spent in dappled sunlight in the greenest forest I have ever sat in. The sounds were gently sweeping, quietly thoughtful and adroitly assembled.
I often wonder how much of the enjoyment derived from a song is as much to do with the circumstances under which it was heard as much as the music itself. I was left soothed and happy by hearing L’Aurore’s music in this lovely setting. Would it elicit the same reaction in a busy city? Probably. But you’ll have to find out for me. Comments, as always, are welcome below.

ExR (Feat Lady Leshurr) – Song X From Tomorrow

Because ANBAD is so stupidly and relentlessly determined to look in the other direction to everyone else, I often feel just as out of the loop as the majority.

I mean, I think I know what sounds good – but is the The Sound Of Now? And how do you define that?

I think the only real way you can try to get a handle on that is by asking whether Song X sounds like it comes from tomorrow.

And t0morrow, in the world of new music, is as close to being today as you can hope to get.

Thus, ExR – or Etta Bond and Raf Riley to their significant others – have produced Song X, in the form of the inexplicably terrific Boring Bitches.

ExR Feat. Lady Leshurr BORING BITCHES

So while I figure out ways of making this blog less deeply un-zeitgiesty, wallow in the manic brilliance of Boring Bitches: a song that pierces the fabric of not only today’s self-obsessive culture, but also gets to the heart of what’s wrong with it – a total lack of fun.

Boring Bitches represents a high watermark in many respects – it’s a song with a wicked sense of humour, and the sound of the future, all condensed into one pop-culture nugget. Excellent.

MORE: emergency-room.co.uk

NB: Another rarity – here is the video to accompany Boring Bitches, which is far too brilliant to ignore:

Interview // Egyptian Hip Hop: Britain’s Best New Band

Egyptian Hip Hop: Christmas Trees > Happy Mondays

Egyptian Hip Hop are an easy band to love. Or to hate, depending on your point of view. The most interesting people are divisive in this way. This interview is the story of a band who are loathed and loved for exactly the same reasons. By the end you’ll know where you stand. And they won’t care what you think.

At Manchester’s In The City Music Conference last year, a powder-puff of sneers billowed with every mention of Egyptian Hip Hop. The vitriol was curiously vocal, and this was confusing; local bands are usually praised unrealistically. It was this unusual venom that drew me to them.

I saw them play a short, inventive and brilliant set, and the day after, scurrilous rumours abounded: brattish post-gig behaviour, apathy towards outsiders who approached them, onstage surliness.

It said much about the Indie fraternity that these traits were seen as bad, and that these opinions were based on these perceived indiscretions, as opposed to the traditional criteria: songs, songs, songs.

The worst crime was, the gossipers’ subtext seemed to be, that they weren’t playing the game; they didn’t care about the PRs, the A&Rs, the tastemakers, and gave them short, teenage, shrift. The disrespect!

Five months after my first brush with Egyptian Hip Hop, the advice I was given was as expected. “Don’t interview them,” I was told, “they hate interviews. They won’t talk.”

Egyptian Hip Hop– Rad Pitt

I collared them anyway; before a gig in Salford’s Islington Mill, where they lounged on grimy sofas bleeding foam from cigarette burn-holes. The band members are young. They viewed me with a suspicion I recognised from my school days: that particular wariness reserved for over-eager trainee teachers.

We traipsed upstairs into a slightly warmer, marginally less grubby room that was doubling as backstage. Louis, sporting an even bigger, more vibrant, shock of hair than I remembered, took a beer from a box on a bowing pasting table and threw it to me.

We sat next to a surprisingly spiny abandoned Christmas tree. Alex, nominally the bassist, sat so close he was almost in my lap, and distractedly read a comic book. There was an expectant, weary pause. So I spoke first.

Gingerly, I wondered what it was like to be a band that was lauded so highly – the equally prevalent condemnation was left unmentioned, but it hung in the air – and how it felt to have a spotlight shone suddenly upon them, as part of the exciting, nascent Manchester music scene.

A pause. I got the feeling that singer Nick had been asked this before. He picked at his nails.

In the past ten years, nothing’s really happened in Manchester. So everyone’s really excited. People are now just happy to be making music again. But the scene itself is just a coincidence.”

I dug around a bit and tried another tack. As a young band, I said, Egyptian Hip Hop must feel the pressure of Manchester’s musical history more than anyone. So was there a conscious decision to create music that was ‘non-Manchester’?

We don’t go out of our way so much. It’s not conscious. This idea that we’re deliberately stepping out of this long shadow cast by ‘Madchester’ is being applied retrospectively. We never made that our intention. It’s helpful being based in Manchester, but we’d make this music wherever we came from.”

All the same, I say, the talk is of a new Manchester scene that has broken free from the past. The new crop seem totally disassociated with the Happy Mondays/New Order days; a disparate bunch that are all pulling in different directions, but working together.

Now, the band are animated. For Nick, the familial aspect of this arrangement is important.

That has definitely kind of happened. We are friends with Delphic and Dutch Uncles for example, and we feed off each other, although we are making different music. It’s great that we can all be in Manchester, doing our own thing. There’s support, but we don’t rely on each other musically.”

The drummer, also called Alex, agrees.

People are trying to drag it back to the past. Delphic are the new New Order. We’re the new Happy Mondays. (“I hate Happy Mondays,” spits Nick) Journalists are just clutching at straws. They want to put a genre onto us.”

In my eyes, I say, they’re the one Mancunian band who are genre-less, whose sound can’t be tied to anything in particular. This makes them uneasy.

Well… we’re wary of that. We’d become pigeonholed as that band who can’t be pigeonholed. 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.”

So are you being consciously contrary? Again, unease.

No. We just don’t know what we are yet. We don’t consider the impact of what we’re doing at all. The band is still gestating. Really, the main thing is that we don’t want to write a song we’ve written before. The stuff we recorded six months ago serves as a snapshot – it’s helpful, so we can see where we’ve changed. But there’s no plan, no deliberate contrariness.”

Yet they say pragmatism has its place, and when making songs they agonise over the balance between the reaction and the bloody mindedness that creation necessitates. Nick, again:

Control is important. We do care about what people think. We spend whole days writing songs and then drop them.”

And speaking of dropping things, their first single has been put back while they sort out the artwork. They all agree that this is as good a reason as any to delay the release.

Abruptly, the Alex that is physically closest, but conversationally in another time zone, is alert. He puts down his book, sits up a fraction, fixes his stare beyond the far wall and says,

We wanted the artwork to be quite arrogant.” The word stabs the conversation to a halt. His magpie eyes glint. “Good arrogant. Gold! Embossed! Royal! You know – quality.” Suddenly invigorated, he becomes just as suddenly fascinated by his book again.

At this point, the first band of the night strike up, and conversation ends. We file out, down the bare splintered stairs, back into the now-busy venue.

We mumble pleasantries, I marvel at their fringes for one last time, and they vanish into the gloomy corners. I wonder how they feel, pushing towards the stage through a crowd of punters who are, on the whole, a decade older than them.

These locals can remember first hand the Manchester scene of old. As a neat distraction, opening across the city centre that very night, is Peter Hook’s new Factory-themed nightclub. The choice is stark: the past or the future.

Outside of Manchester – in London – the band say reaction has been favourable. The crowds are busier, more understanding, less suspicious. I recalled the jibes, and realised they were rooted not in dislike, but in fear.

Egyptian Hip Hop‘s distant nature worries the majority who are now used to their bands bending their way – appearing on their social networks, updating via Twitter, posting empty weekly blog updates. Egyptian Hip Hop are not that band. They are weary of the usual: the usual songs, the usual bluster, the usual methods.

Of course Egyptian Hip Hop are surly. They’re teenagers. They’re also bright, opinionated and funny. During the interview, that supposed dislike of outsiders turned out to be nothing more than – guess what? – a youthful awkwardness that was, frankly, endearing. But they never really let me in, not once.

Why? Because they’re the best new band in Britain – wildly inventive, sharp and talented. And even they don’t know where they’re going. So why should they do what I want?


Your Rival: Egg Nog

ANBAD is finally feeling in the mood for Christmas, having at last thrown off the antipathy towards The Most List-Saturated Time Of The Year.

And, as is traditional now, ANBAD is simultaneously grumbling about this flurry of best-of-2011 listing, whilst taking part. I’m also making sure I’m reneging on promises – another key trait of this website – and featuring just a couple more bands before the year is out.

So, ANBAD switches into full-on LIST MODE at the end of this week. But before then, who could resist Your Rival, who seem right at home at this cosy, familial time of year: cosy, slightly kitsch and undeniably comfortable.


Like all good pop songs, I Don’t Even Know is under two minutes long, allows the chorus to comprise 75% of the whole – their might not actually be any verses – and is the musical equivalent of egg nog: you like it despite the fact it’s much less cool than its peers.

If anything, I Don’t Even Know is a blast from an ill-defined past: the kind of power-pop that existed in the 80s that’s been mutated by the green, glowing radiation of 90’s Lo-Fi.

Your Rival are alien, familiar and… oh what the hell. You’ll just enjoy them. Remember that?

MORE: yourrival.bandcamp.com

Deklun: From Then Until Now

When asked about their influences, electronic artists used to trot out the same few names: Kraftwerk, Can, and the occasional Detroit house pioneer.

This narrow range of influencers were cited until relatively recently: electronic music was so new for, perversely,  so long, that the original shapers of the genre had a lingering effect on those who followed.

But now virtually all music is electronic, and artists can name influences willy-nilly; the more obscure the better, yeah?

So it feels kind of pointless to even try and figure out who or what has made Deklun the band they are today, even though – pleasingly – their slightly primitive and direct sound seems to hark back a little further than their contemporaries.

Deklun – The Hero

The Hero makes no pretences of coolness, and no nods to now. In an environment where most artists seem to take yesterday’s hit remix as a starting point, it’s refreshing to hear music that has the nous to look a little further back.

Sure, it’s a simple song, but that’s how electronic music was. Here’s a long, lingering glance to dance music’s past – no nostalgia trip, just an appreciation of what can be done with the basics.