No Cure – It Is Going to Get Dark > Metallic hardcore > Alabama, US > Releasing July 10 > SharpTone Records
I remember when NoCure entered my sphere of awareness. It was back in 2023 and people started posting about “No Cure Straight Edge Die Slow Fuck You” and I had no idea what that was but it sounded pretty cool. I’m not straight edge but I respect the commitment to an ideal, and with a title like that I figured the song had to go hard and it sure fucking did. The EP that featured it, The Commitment to Permanence, quickly became one of my favorites of the year and I’ve been pumped for every release since. Between the ragers they’ve put out and their relentless touring schedule (seriously, if you live in the US and haven’t seen them live yet don’t worry, feels like a 95% chance they’ll be back though your area within the year), No Cure’s popularity has risen faster than the thermostat this summer. It all culminates this Friday with the release of their first LP It Is Going to Get Dark, but can it live up to the expectations they’ve deservedly set?
I listened to this for the first time without having read any of the promo material and was immediately struck by the feeling that it was different in mood and perspective from I Hope I Die Here, their most recent EP, which came out in December of 2024. That one was absolutely seething, frothing at the mouth with the sort of incandescent rage that stems from someone who was persistently wronged, deep wounds made by an upbringing that did more harm than good; a blistering ode to Christianity and hate in the American south. It Is Going to Get Dark is angry, sure—No Cure wouldn’t do it any other way—but the anger feels like it’s sprayed more widely now, and doesn’t have that tangible personal pain. A read through the promo materials confirms it: the world is going to shit, and this album is the band’s way of blasting out all sorts of dark thoughts before it gets really *really* bad.
To that end, the Alabama quartet has packaged up 12 tracks of pure dynamite metallic hardcore, laced it with bits of extreme metal, lit the fuse, and tossed it into our laps. These songs go fucking hard as nails in a barbed wire-wrapped baseball bat and do every bit as much damage when they hit you. Lacerating riffs, skull bludgeoning breakdowns, thumping rhythms, throaty gang vocals, blasting fury: the record is pumped full to bursting with destructive, massively catchy shit. It’s apparent from the opener, as frontman Blaythe Steuer screams “How did we get here?” and “When the Spasms Cease” kicks into the first monster two-step of the record. The dumb heavy chunk of “Oblivion Crusade” follows, replete with nasty pinch harmonics and bullheaded, elbow-swinging aggression.
“Brain Matter Displacement” is a classic “I’ll kill you, you piece of shit” song with an pitiless homicidal beatdown that pummels hard enough to accomplish what Steuer and his backing gang promise they’ll do: “Gonna fucking smash your skull”. Add in a smooth verse from rapper Jayway and it’s perhaps the most memorable song on an album full of memorable songs. Speaking of guest spots, this is a true hardcore album so of course there are a number of them: in addition to Jayway, there’s Tyler Short of straight edgers Inclination on straight ahead rager “Ironclad”, Skyler Conder of Varials on “Sharpen the Blade”, and the almighty Vincent Bennett (of The Acacia Strain, but you already knew that) on the chaotic and crushing “Purity Spiral”.
The titanic breakdown in the middle of “Starved in Sanctuary (My Hands are in Your Chest Cavity)” broke my neck. “Slowly Turning Blue” has one of those brilliant riffs where a series of pinches answers a bunch of chugs, and the gang vocal calls against Steuer’s answers in the chorus are tailor-made for live show mayhem. “My World in Flames” provides one of the reflective moments in its opening before throwing auditory haymakers and daring you not to two-step. Rowdy 50-second banger “I Am Still Fucking Straight Edge” does exactly what you expect it to before the record closes with “Everything I Love is Dead or Dying”, a hard-hitting metalcore-forward track with harmonized guitar licks that feels like a fitting end emotionally to this record about anger and frustration at an unfair world in decline.
Look, my perspective on hardcore is admittedly narrow, as I’m far from an expert in the style. What I do know, though, is when a band has riffs and can write a good song, and No Cure can do that shit in their sleep, clearly. Producer/engineer Kevin Langley has the band sounding killer, too: Aesop Mongo and Kyle Ray’s guitar tone is tasty with crunch and heft and pinches that go fucking filthy, Steuer’s dynamic vocals are mixed to perfection, overdriven bass lines bang around beneath, and Duncan Newey’s kit pops without overriding the rest. The whole shebang is just a damn good time, yes because the riffs and vocals are top notch, but the songwriting is legitimately great too.
THE BOTTOM LINE
As far as expectations in hardcore go, mine don’t get much higher than they were for this record, and No Cure have met them. It may not feel quite as personal as I Hope I Die Here, but that’s okay because it’s still bombastic, violent, and catchy as all hell. Don’t get it twisted: No Cure are still very much a band with the sky as their limit.
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In early 1971, radio DJ John Peel was aboard a ferry crossing the Irish Sea when he was accosted by a tall, striking, dandily attired fellow with an Afro, who urged him to listen out for his band Thin Lizzy. Radio 1’s captain of the late-night airwaves admired the young musician’s boldness, and by the autumn a BBC radio session was in the bag. Several of those songs, from both Peel’s Top Gear and Stuart Henry’s 70s show, augment this repackaged edition of Thin Lizzy’s self-titled debut album.
It was a welcome stroke of luck in an otherwise tough landing for the trio who were top draw in their native land but restarted their career at the bottom in London, where they recorded their first LP for Decca, steered by fellow Dubliner Ted Carroll, ex-manager of compatriots Skid Row and founder of Rock On record stall in London’s Portobello.
Comprising original songs written by Lynott plus one from guitarist Eric Bell (the Hendrixian Ray-Gun), Thin Lizzy garnered scant sales or attention at the time, apart from airplay by a few cool DJs. The album does, however, provide an early peek at the many jewels at the band’s disposal – Lynott’s distinctive voice and poetic, cinematic imagination, and the respective talents of Bell and drummer Brian Downey who melded together in a goldmine of potential.
While there were other Celtic rockers, such as the aforementioned Skid Row and Horslips, Lynott and co. had the swag. The spoken-word intro of The Friendly Ranger At Clontarf Castle switches effortlessly into the joy of strolling with his girl under starry skies, swept along by Bell’s glowing playing, and flows into Honesty Is No Excuse, one of Lynott’s finest songs.
Diddy Levine and Clifton Grange Hotel (owned by Lynott’s mum) both weave a musical tale from chequered familial history. It’s a pity that the powerfully atmospheric Eire is only two minutes long, when it cries out to be an epic. (Metallica thought so too.)
This three-CD/four-LP set includes new stereo mixes by Richard Whittaker and rarities, including the debut single The Farmer, the New Day EP, and the previously unreleased Beggar’s Song, along with BBC sessions and instrumental outtakes. The generously illustrated book of early-days memorabilia will delight the dedicated. From Crumlin to Sydney Opera House is some giant, long-legged leap, and much changed along the way, but here’s how Thin Lizzy’s fantastic voyage began.
Krautrock greats Faust have been around for over half a century in various permutations. Today, the group’s four surviving original members announced a fun initiative: They’re each releasing their own solo album. You know, like KISS! Bureau B will release all four LPs simultaneously in September.
