The Omnipresence of Audio
And so, “Listening Habits Volume #3” – the new frontier. Well, not really or in fact at all. Welcome to a new series emanating from the reanimated Ear Nutrition. A collection of words pertaining to the human ability to create art by banging, picking and plucking various objects in sequence to form a coherent whole.
The modus operandi of this series is to celebrate the very nature of these sounds. From the legacy of the old onward to the fluidic, undulating nature of the contemporary and finally, to the frequent flashes of the emergent, all in reverence to the functional and irrevocable symbiosis of the three.
Succinctly put. The new, the old and the somewhere-in-between, communicated in written form whenever I can be bothered, as experienced by my very own lug’oles in effort to counter the mundanity-derived cognitive atrophy I’ve experienced since bining this off!
Dead Air – ‘Do It For The Pay’ (Single)
January 2026
Alternative Rock / Hard Rock / Punk-Rock
In archetypal fashion, I discovered Dead Air after they played what is effectively my local venue. However, contrary to that misfortune, any resonant negative feeling was soon eclipsed by how brilliantly addictive their intelligent, articulate and bounding barrage becomes soon after pressing that first play. With a back catalogue (to me) bludgeoning as hard with sound as it does emotion àla the Audioslave, Rage Against The Machine, Street Sweeper Social Club-ilk, those in want of riffery of the highest reputable grade should promptly and post-haste chart a course. Just follow that tectonic bass tone.
July 2025 and a touch earlier in this here 2026 saw ‘Fast Food World’ and ‘Black Flag’ respectively. Armed with such, Dead Air began to hew a path towards the 12th March, where they are set to unearth what is likely to be, based on the now three-pronged vanguard, quite the polemic, with the given name of – World Wide Villainy.
Completing their vanguards offensive and akin to the aforementioned singles, ‘Do It For The Pay’ sees the band’s roots expand from and sunder the boundaries of their previous plot. Dead Air branch and cross-pollinate into a certified, macro and micro frustration-derived Punk-Rock that yet still retains what made this band such a force to begin with, while simultaneously enriching their indisputably blunt-force candour.
Bazookatooth – D.M.C.K EP
February 2026
Hardcore Punk / Metallic Hardcore / Crossover Thrash
Nashville’s Bazookatooth have not only featured on EN before but have also been an integral jolt of adrenaline within my composite taste in Hardcore listening habits for some time now. The band’s slick transition through grooves cut into the more extreme wing of the genre makes for a dangerous yet enticingly volatile and amalgamative experience, one as likely to lacerate (and break through) its own sound barrier as it is your precious ability to decode their expeditiously cathartic tirade.
Enter, D.M.C.K. This forceful tsunami has taken the ‘tooth MO and embodied an almost virulent level of innately targeted vitriol at the abjectly spiralling environs of desperation and despair that is whatever this timeline has become. Bazookatooth violently twist Hardcore Punk to its utmost limit. BT equate said desperation in music that repeatedly destroys and recreates itself across a spectrum of Hardcore and Metal that culminates in an explosive seven songs in twelve minutes. A duration that, despite the apparent chaos, is nothing but an unequivocally indelible certification of a band nailing the execution of their soundtrack to this mess.
I could likely go on analysing the modernity-driven renditions of classic Hardcore or over-driven Crossover Thrash. I could prattle on about the skilful (two) step into bouts of twisted metallic Crust Punk and the splintered confines D.M.C.K strides over into the genre’s extremes or even their inclusion of a Beastie Boys cover, but I won’t. Thats on you now.
D.M.C.K is hard. Join it and join the fight.
Dag Nasty – Minority of One
January 2002
Melodic Hardcore / Skate Punk / Punk-Rock
Listening Habits motions rearward in the timeline, and what a memorable sojourn it is whenever it concerns the seminal, influential and downright essential Dag Nasty and their unequivocal and irrevocable contributions to the evolution of melodic Punk and Hardcore. The band’s varied discography speaks for itself, and despite many defaulting to Can I Say when getting into Dag Nasty-focused discourse, I would argue that 2002’s Minority of One is ascendant to the sporadic band’s best. Which is a statement in itself, considering the efforts of the three separate vocalists at the helm of their varied catalogue.
Back to it. Minority of One is urgent at its fastest moments, open and thoughtful on the down-tempo and reminiscent of its OG Hardcore backbone through the jagged, angular riffs interspersed between the enticingly melodious stylings that, cumulatively, see a truly unrestricted Brian Baker on Minority of One. Grounded by Roger Marbury and Colin Sears, Baker is set to chase Dave Smalley through his existential defiance across the album, supporting and translating his heart-exposed stature and resolve into melodious leads, solos and licks that match the earnest nature and Smalley’s words, allowing them to truly soar.
Enough from me on this one. Go forth and sample a masterwork from Punk-Rock history.
And then dig through the rest of it, you won’t regret it. I may even approach some of their other work, if this project survives. Time will tell.
Modern Life Is War – Life On The Moon
September 2025
“Progressive” Hardcore Punk
Hardcore, despite its dedication to expression, catharsis and the evocation of an ever-forward motion, quite paradoxically, seems to have a pronounced aversion to progression and experimentation that is subject to this very ethos. I shan’t try to decode this beyond these quasi-discernible and indeed cursory words, but, succinctly put, to be an established Hardcore band these days and have the (apparent) audacity to change is a bold move. Enter, Modern Life Is War.
Whether MLIW were or are aware of this absolute paradox when they began work on the progressive titan of a record that Life On The Moon would become is immaterial, for again, if the band is propagating and developing their sound into a collective and collaborative effort they believe in, isn’t that pre-eminent directive of this game?
At times, downright distancing itself from the ‘core and at others twisting it into a chaotic, Dead Kennedys-esque Garage Punk, the wild nature of Life On The Moon and its fitting production is quite the experience. Tribulation Work Songs (2018 – 2021 and 2024 as the compilation) hinted at this path to a degree (‘Survival’ in particular) but 2025’s effort contorts itself between deviation and familiarity through a highly deliberative running order. Life On The Moon abruptly charts the unknown and yet contemporaneously employs nods, hints, touches and crumbs of the inverse.
Jerffery Eaton’s remarkable lyrical skill and evocation of imagery, though present throughout, reaches a relative apex in the band’s continuity with ‘Homecoming Queen’ in particular. Track seven not only ignites a four-track run showcasing the inspirational and ineffaceable legacy of MLIW but – to me – is thematically and sonically reminiscent of more than just a few from their past. ‘I’m Not Ready’ comes to mind.
With seven-through-ten pulling in the old heads as roots are toasted – with ‘You Look Like The Morning Sun’ injecting a pace seldom seen but aptly and decidedly potent – MLIW twist themselves back into the new sound with the Rock n’Roll Punk-Rock ‘Bloodsport’ closing the act. Ten then fades to the contemplative ‘Kid Hard Dub’ and the low ebb to onward trudge through the progressively crackling, distorted noise of ‘Over The Road’.
Life On The Moon is exhausting yet indisputably enthralling. ‘Talismanic’ marks the final bout, and via the contortions of this latest, is an argument for the longevity of the purely expressive, evocative and emotional resonance that Modern Life Is War exude.
Mashaal – Demo
December 2025
Hardcore Punk / Youth Crew
I initially missed the release of this debut by Mashaal as collateral to my quasi-social media distancing. However, as per my mantra that music hits precisely when it means to, this demo has been worming its way through my hearing at some tempo this here 2026.
In terms of who Mashaal are, in their own words – ‘[…] a band made up of immigrants and the children of immigrants’ standing as themselves and that is all the introduction I need to utter, as not to cheapen or take the attention away from what these incendiary twelve minutes have to tell you.
‘We’re not the ones out here fucking up your lives. We’re not the ones to hate.’
Though riff-heavy and purveying a perpetually assured groove in its own right, Mashaal’s Hardcore breathes the essence of Youth Crew with a powerful yet melodious assault cut with the aforementioned angular riffs set to constantly cycle and equate the band’s determination and propagation of the thought-food they spit at you, as they honour and live their natural state of defiance.
There isnt a moment’s reprieve on this debut, and it speaks volumes for the undeniable trajectory the band are on. Again, with enough power to entice those of the scene who yearn for breakdows and thick chugging guitars but also the “traditional” stick-to-skin double time, you are entirely at the mercy and direction of the band’s guitar work that, to me anyway, evokes not only the timeless nature of Youth Crew and Melodic Hardcore but specifically the demonstrable control exercised by that of Battery axe-man, Ken Olden.
Listening Habits Volume #3, then, via some more-than-likely grammatical errors and renegade characters in the Latin script.
Until the consistency-defying next time!
Something about requests or master no longer being relevant to the functionality or modus operandi of this whatever-it-is.
