Affiliated with the independent Socks On Records, Rudimentary Paste are label mates with brilliant noise makers Das Kapitans, Get The Fuck Outta Dodge, Al Pacinos Sister, and Soviet Films. That fact alone will give some listeners a reasonable idea of what to expect from the band’s ‘Six Examples of The Wilhelm Scream’ EP before even going in. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but even though this band actually features a couple of faces associated with other Socks On acts, the Paste sound isn’t just a carbon copy of their peers.

‘Morse Code Operator’ opens with a huge fuzz bass riff – not too dissimilar to Das Kapitans at their most forceful – but from therein, any similarity ends. The track quickly twists itself into a post punk fury, when a world of sharp edged riffs collide with a terrifically angry vocal. The voice lurches between hardcore shouting and art rock shrieks of a Jesus Lizard persuasion, sometimes within the space of a line, whilst the guitar work attacks with a similarly sharp edge. By the mid point of this short track, the effect feels like being assaulted by bits of McCluskey and Super Luxury, whilst Pere Ubu man David Thomas encourages everyone to be a little arty. It’s more about anger and mood than anything else, but a repeated refrain of “Where’s my glass of water?” supplies an unexpected hook which contrasts the seemingly glib with the sound of a man who sounds as if he’s literally exploding. ‘Koji’ follows suit with some more post-hardcore noise, featuring a superb drum part and abrasive guitar work, creating something that sounds like a collision between early Wire, early PIL and one of the more lo-fi Socks On bands. It’s as unrelenting as the opening number, and about as catchy (as in not), but things then seem to hit their stride and Rudimentary Paste pull out all of the stops to share something far more interesting…

Scaling down some of the distortion but increasing the guitar’s razor sharp edge, the brilliant ‘Invention of A Dentist’ attacks with a vocal roar cutting between a stop start riff, underpinned by an almost groove-laden drum part for an opening salvo. That would be enough to make it one of Rudimentary Paste’s best tracks, but by switching gears into a slow, indie fuelled riff and sharing a vocal that sounds more like something inspired by a Pavement deep cut, the band show off even more of their impressive arrangement skills. Having already wrong-footed their audience once, they then do so again by throwing themselves headlong into a pure punk riff coupled with bleating vocals, closing a triple whammy of arty anger that’s in and out in under two minutes, and pretty much a one-stop demonstration of most of their musical interests. Factor in a lyric that challenges a huge corporation for steering the US further towards the realms of fascism, and this becomes the EP’s stand out. That said, it faces some very stiff competition from ‘Vertical Meat’, which adds a touch of early XTC oddness to the post hardcore backdrop. This, naturally, offers another freewheeling vocal more of an interesting landscape to work with at times, and by delivering something that’s almost as pointed as the rhythm at first, that vocal really grabs the attention. Also, more so than before, the angular arrangement allows for a bigger sounding bass to cut through, and its warmer tones offset the uglier elements of this piece brilliantly. The band aren’t about to let that warmer sound take over completely, of course, and the second half of this number tips the hat to Slint via a wall of overdriven guitars sharing an almost sludgy riff.

Adding some British humour, ‘That’s Why She Lost Her Job As A Blue Peter Presenter’ shares a frenzied lyric about eating paint and soap, brushing your teeth until gums bleed, and finally stitching yourself into a wall – all of which conjures weird thoughts about Liz Barker [and in case the lawyers are reading, Liz isn’t actually named; other BP presenters may well present themselves within the twisted fantasies of the audience]. With the music taking on a slightly more retro approach with huge riffs that take a pinch of influence from bands like Quicksand, it allows this to not become a pure novelty. There’s a much fatter, rockier tone which sounds great, and is slightly more accessible than the bulk of RP’s usual approach. The classic post hardcore elements aren’t completely sidelined, though, and for the climax, things take a punkier turn beneath a repeated assertion that everything is “fine”. This is brilliantly bonkers, but realising that people probably would welcome the chance to wind down, the EP closes with something a little more balanced. ‘The Process of Making The Mould’ initially allows for brief reflection via another Slint-esque passage, before everything heads into a huge, angry workout where lyrics about being stuck in a pub worrying about human evolution are joined by punky guitar lines, a nod to Sonic Youth and, latterly, some shrill lead work that adds to the wall of noise brilliantly. Rudimentary Paste then bow out with a slow and haunting riff and near spoken vocals, providing this EP with a truly ominous ending. For anyone who hasn’t been scared off at this point, there’s certainly more furious fun to be had.

There’s a lot of great arty sounding post punk out there, and a vast amount of abrasive noise rock – especially if you’ve got the time to take a deep dive into the waters of Bandcamp – but even in an overcrowded scene, Rudimentary Paste have the force and the chops to hold their own, particularly from a UK based perspective. This EP features a couple of tracks that really stand out, but in the main, all six numbers showcase these musicians very strongly. Even when these guys sound like the sum of their various influences, the genuine edge present in their riffs and the pure anger that cuts through some of the vocal phrasing is more than enough to make this short release a recommended listen. …And in many ways, it’s relative brevity – six tracks in approximately fifteen minutes – really adds to the all-round power. If you’ve got any interest in abrasive post punk, arty hardcore, or fancy hearing something that’s a DIY relation to the likes of Million Dead and Glassjaw, then you really oughtn’t miss this.

May/June 2025