“Speaking for myself, this record might be a snapshot of me deciding whether I’m going to live out the rest of my life as Eckhart Tolle or live out the rest of my life as Ted Kaczynski,” laughs PROPAGANDHI guitarist and vocalist Chris Hannah. In true PROPAGANDHI fashion, the Manitoba, Canada based outfit’s eighth album, At Peace is smart music for dangerous times. “Everything I’m singing about is still coming from being the same person that wrote and sang our first record How to Clean Everything in 1993,” Hannah states recalling the band’s snarky skate-thrash origins. “But what we’re putting into the songs now, probably reflects more despair than 30 years ago when we had similar perspectives, but with strands of hope and naivete. Now it’s the existential dread of eking out a life worth living in this completely failed society.” At Peace was written and recorded as political storm clouds were beginning to darken in the months before Emperor Trump’s ascent to power. It’s an album of poetic and polemic songs written shortly before the American oligarch’s suggestion that PROPAGANDHI’s home country become the U.S.’s 51st State. Songs like the album’s apocryphal “Fire Season” presages the climate-change-driven wildfires that wiped out portions of Southern California. At its core, At Peace is an album of inconvenient and unavoidable truths that hit with all the subtlety of an Orwellian boot stamping on a human face forever.
Nascar Aloe’s HEY ASSHOLE! EP is brash and in-your-face, just as the name suggests—and it’s also exactly what music needs right now. The Los Angeles-based musician has spent the last several years building a devoted fanbase for his audacious and genre-bending musical approach, embracing a gleefully caustic and immediately appealing perspective to the many lanes of overlap when it comes to rap and punk. With HEY ASSHOLE!, Nascar Aloe brings his most impactful and immediate music to date, combining his abrasive hip-hop style with new, rock-situated elements that continue to push his music forward. Defining himself as “a little fucking twerp that came out of my dad’s nutsack,” the North Carolina-born artist formally known as Colby Suoy was invested in music from an early age, as being exposed to his father’s jazz and R&B-leaning taste led to regular viewings of 106 and Park and exploring the expansive sounds of rock, pop, and country. “In North Carolina, the radio bounces all over the place,” he explains, and after acquiring some basic recording equipment he was following suit with his own self-produced music. “I self-taught myself how to record and produce,” Nascar recalls. “I was trying to figure out ways to make serious music.”