Remembering Lou Koller (1965-2026)

By PaulySure

Back in 2012, Revelation Records was holding a weekend of shows to celebrate their twenty-fifth anniversary. It ended up being two weekends of shows, but when first announced Pamona, California, was the original announcement. Now, with Revelation being one of my all-time favorite labels, I was intrigued. With the announcement of Gorilla Biscuits and Youth of Today as the headliners, I thought “holy shit” I had to go. So as tickets went on sale, a few friends and I knew we had to see the Gorilla Biscuits headline, as they were the band we preferred the most. 

When the weekend of the show arrived, we packed up the car, filled a cooler full of sandwich and snack supplies (being a handful of near broke hardcore kids) and made the trek to what was the equivalent of our hardcore pilgrimage. Getting to the show a bit late, due to L.A. traffic and a mix up with the opener, we walked in as NYHC legends Underdog (the second band of the night) was about midway through their set. Next up was Sick of It All, a group that I was pretty excited to see, but at the time not necessarily my reason for attending. That all changed the moment the band took the stage! Opening with a cover of Warzone’s “As One,” the Glasshouse erupted into a frenzy. A mosh pit over here, stage dives left and right, and band who knew how to use every inch of the stage. Sick of It All was so tight ripping through the set, with Armand being the human drum machine he is behind the kit, Pete Koller and Craig Ahead jumping around not missing a note as punk and hardcore royalty were running across the stage around them (including Davey Havok of AFI fame). But it was the ferocity, positivity, and stage banter of Lou Koller, that was just absolutely captivating. Had the set not been so infectious that I had to sing along, my jaw would have been on the floor. While the set was largely songs from Blood, Sweat, and No Tears, the band finished up playing “Scratch the Surface” and “Step Down.” With an amazing 17 songs in the set, it almost didn’t feel like enough. 

When the set was done, I made the promise to myself that anytime Sick of it All came to my town, or was anywhere I was, I had to see them. Fortunately, I got a few more chances. Each time I saw them, it was so hard not to sing a long while also grinning ear to ear. Each time, I took a photo and posted it on Instagram, the band re-shared it; which as a very amateur photographer always felt like a huge honor to get the nod from the Alleyway Crew. It was something that always made me feel closer to the band in a way. Every time Lou just kept the positivity and fun going, the ultimate hardcore frontman for possibly the greatest hardcore band of all time. Frankly, he was my favorite! 

In 2024, Lou announced that he had received a cancer diagnosis, and the hardcore community seemed to really show up for him. Every once in a while, he would post an update, and it seemed like the support was helping him stay positive. And for a moment, it really seemed to help, he had announced was cancer free around mid 2025. Unfortunately, the cancer seemed to come back stronger, and the treatments seemed to not be working as well. In July 2026, Lou lost his battle. It was an absolutely devastating loss to the punk and hardcore community, and a devastating loss as a fan. I spent the whole day in a bit of a funk, but the outpour of support and tributes was absolutely beautiful to see, and it helped to lessen the blow a bit. While it is tough to come to grips with the fact that I will never see Lou on stage conducting the crowd through Walls of Death and sing-a-longs, I will hold on to the memories of those shows and just how awesome Lou was. I really wish I had gotten a better chance to meet him and just say thank you for all the albums and memories. Instead, I’ll just throw on a record and dance around my living room. Rest in Power Lou! It’s Clobberin’ Time! 

For Dolly

By Jack Rafferty

Dolly Parton was beyond description, in a lot of ways. I don’t say that to mythologize her or anything like that, but she did always seem a bit larger than life as a cultural figure. I admired the fact that such a thing never seemed to get to her head. She remained respectful, magnanimous, and kind to the great many people she encountered in her life. She was an incredible musician, with a voice like a meadowlark, and a staggeringly prolific output throughout her career. 

Dolly grew up in poverty, living with a large family in a very small cabin in the Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee. Through her process of becoming the persona she would eventually be known for, she would have to simultaneously forsake the strict religious moralism of her upbringing and also the prejudicial treatment of that background by many in mainstream culture in the United States and people in urban areas of the country. Despite all this, she held firm in her belief in herself and demonstrated admirable extents of strength and determination in forging her path undaunted. 

I often felt sad that she went through so much surgical cosmetic work in her life to maintain a certain standard of beauty that is imposed on so many in this society, particularly women. It is a complicated aspect of her life that I grapple with, but I also respect the level of dignity she always exuded, especially when that was consistently challenged throughout her career on a public level, primarily in media interviews. One of my favorite examples is the Barbara Walters interview, where Barbara asked Dolly “Where I come from, would I have called you a hillbilly?” and Dolly replied “I would have probably kicked your shins…we were very proud people, people with a lot of class. It was country class, but it was a great deal of class.” This is just one of many situations where media outlets and interviewers, in typical tabloid fashion, attempted to pry into her personal life, to judge her decisions on marriage, having children, the way she dressed, the way she talked, etc. In my opinion, Dolly took all this in stride, and she was far more compassionate in her responses than these presumptuous inquiries deserved, but she also never took shit from anyone, and she always stood her ground. 

Everything about Dolly, from the way she chose to dress, to how she viewed herself and her worth within the context of a deeply patriarchal system, was an act of rebellion to the regular form of imprisonment that women were condemned to as housewives under capitalism in the United States. She was a consistent advocate for rural people, the working class, and the downtrodden. Whenever the media sought to reduce her or where she was from to a form of cheap caricature, she never allowed it to pass unchallenged. Dolly’s engagement in tremendous programs such as Imagination Library approached issues such as literacy rates in a way that was not judgmental, and was accessible to many families, since there was no income requirement for applying. That program alone provided 270 million free books and counting to children worldwide. It is important to contextualize this point as not being praise for the philanthropy of the rich, but rather an understanding of Dolly acknowledging the material issues she and others around her faced when she was growing up. 

Another anecdote that comes to mind is when the agent of Elvis Presley reached out to Dolly, because Elvis wanted to cover her song “I Will Always Love You.” The caveat to this is that they demanded 50 percent of the publishing rights. Most artists would have conceded to such a monumental opportunity regardless, but Dolly stood her ground and refused. This ended up still working out for her, but even if it hadn’t, Dolly understood the importance of ownership over her creative labor. She would have rather been poor and had her dignity than forsake her volition.

Dolly also championed the rights of LGBTQIA+ people throughout her life. This, combined with her uncompromising approach to self-expression and having agency over your own identity/appearance, were largely influential to many folks as a result. She embodied that it was okay to go beyond stereotypes, and that it was okay to be yourself, even if that clashes with what is considered permissible within the standards of a given time and place. Not only is it okay, but it is wonderful and worthy of celebration and praise. That was a very powerful message and legacy that Dolly forged. 

There are aspects of Dolly’s business involvement that are worthy of criticism, such as certain cult of personality projects like Dollywood, offering what is purportedly an “authentic” version of Appalachian life, when it seemingly treads within the same lineage of distorted reality and illusory depiction as any other theme park, such as Disneyland. Such a project comes off as entirely distant from her roots of sitting on the porch of a one-room cabin, a child among twelve poor children listening to their mother sing “Barbara Allen.” Projects such as Dollywood, with all its themed merchandise and sensational gimmicks, appear to be in contradiction with Dolly’s values of accurately representing the people and places from where she was raised. It is worth mentioning that this park is the largest employer in the area (which is a stated reason why Dolly invested in the project to begin with), though I cannot find any information about the quality of these jobs or their pay and benefits. I hesitate to criticize this too fiercely, since I have not been there myself, and I’m sure that people in the area do get enjoyment out of the park. There is simply something about theme parks and business enterprises that give the impression of vanity projects that I bristle at a bit. However, points like this do not meaningfully diminish my opinions or feelings toward Dolly and her legacy in a significant way. 

There are simply too many songs that Dolly released in her storied career to reasonably cover in a piece like this (she wrote more than three thousand songs, which is astounding and reminiscent of the prodigious work of great poets such as Li Bai), so I will just select a few of my favorites to touch on briefly. Beginning with “9 to 5,” which is surely one of the most listened to working-class anthems of the twentieth and twenty-first century. The song, and the film it was written for, were inspired by real struggles of women in the labor force facing challenges of low pay, sexual assault, and other forms of discrimination in the workplace. The tenacious spirit of this song comes forth in every line, criticizing the drudgery the working class is forced to endure,

Workin’ 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin’

Barely getting’ by, it’s all takin’ and no givin’

They just use your mind and you never get the credit

It’s enough to drive you crazy if you let it

9 to 5, yeah, they got you where they want you

There’s a better life and you think about it, don’t you?

It’s a rich man’s game no matter what they call it

And you spend your life puttin’ money in his wallet.

Another song that I absolutely love is “Early Morning Breeze” off of Coat of Many Colors, one of my favorite albums that she made. The lyrics of this song are beautiful and portray Dolly’s love of the natural world and the land in which she grew up. Her recollections remind me of experiences that I have had and times in my life where I had less on my mind interrupting me from simply enjoying waking up in the morning, feeling the breeze on my body, watching small moments of living things, reveling in the weather and the seasons and the sky. I especially love the chorus of this song, 

Rainbow-colored flowers, kissed with early morning sun

The aster and the dahlia and the wild geranium

Drops of morning dew still linger on the iris leaves

In the meadow where I'm walking in the early morning breeze.

Finally, I can’t talk about Dolly’s songs without talking about “Jolene.” I feel pretty strongly that this song is in my top five country songs ever written. There ironically isn’t much to say about it, because it just speaks for itself. The vocal melody, the rhyme scheme and cadence, the instrumentation, how exceptionally hard it is to sing, the way in which the song is written as a plea for another not to take a lover away, but that it is written essentially as a love letter to that romantic rival, it’s all just unmatched in my mind. I especially love this iconic stanza,

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you, Jolene.

It is a testament to Dolly’s timelessness that she was so deeply loved and influential to multiple generations. I cannot think of another figure of her stature that was as universally adored in this day and age, and thought of not just fondly, but respected deeply across such a diversity of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes me glad to think that, at least in the way that she often spoke of her life, she lived a long and joyous one. She had a love of life and living, of the people and the land, of songs and stories. She was ultimately a positive force within the story of human history, and she will be remembered for a great many years. 

Slap of Reality, Goodbye, Me (Rabbit Rabbit Records/Press, 2026)

By SoDak

I get excited whenever an older band releases a new record that includes the best music they have ever made. This is the case with Slap of Reality, a punk rock band from Florida that formed in 1987. The last few months, I regularly spin their full-length Goodbye, Me, as it brings me much joy, listening to their finely crafted melodic songs, which are reminiscent of bands such as Samiam. The record sounds great, crisp and clean. Every instrument is clear in the mix. The bass and drums serve as a solid anchor. The guitars sound big and have a nice drive to them. The songs are filled with emotional hooks, whereby the vocals and guitars hit the heart. 

I first saw Slap of Reality when they played in Rapid City, South Dakota, at Roman’s Ron De Vu, with Nuisance, Schlong, and Skin Shed, in July 1991. At that time, I had their first two seven inches, Stuck Inside (Vinyl Communications, 1989) and Time Alone (Pazzafist Records, 1990), which were raw recordings of good hardcore songs. The first seven-inch record mixes very fast songs, such as “Stuck Inside,” with mid-paced tunes filled with melodic choruses, such as “Remembrance.” The guitar parts are catchy. There are great moments where the bass is more prominent. The vocals are loaded with reverb. I love the breakdown moments where everything gets a little funky such as on “Thought We Were Friends.” I was eager to hear the songs on these records played live. The show in 1991 was phenomenal. Every traveling band was excellent, playing music from their records as well as new songs. We sang along to all the songs we knew. Given the July heat, the dancing during the show, and the sweat from the crowd, the walls of the venue were covered in moisture. Slap of Reality nailed every song with an energetic performance. They returned the next year for another stellar show. In the 1990s, they released a couple full-length records and a few seven-inch records, which are all solid releases. 

The real treat is that they continued to write songs and perform, culminating in recording Goodbye, Me, which was originally supposed to be released in either 2019 or 2020, but the label that was going to put out the record folded. A few years later, Slap of Reality made the songs available on Bandcamp to share with friends and fans. Fortunately, Rabbit Rabbit Records/Press worked with Slap of Reality to give this record a proper release in 2026. (To pick up a copy go to: https://rabbitrabbitrecordspress.bigcartel.com/.)

Goodbye, Me is a great fucking record. All the songs are catchy and make me sing along. Frank Lacatena’s voice is deeper and filled with more emotional capacity. His excellent singing conveys the tenderness and vulnerability of the lyrics with greater depth. The opening two tracks, “We Said” and “Never Far,” rock. They create an immediate connection. On “We Said,” Frank sings “And we said it meant so much/And we did so little now/And we see it’s over anyway.” On “Never Far,” which has a very strong and awesome Samiam vibe, he sings several times: “I don’t want to be without you now/When I come down.” If I saw this song performed live, I know that I would be jumping up and down, singing along, with tears streaming down my face. I love when a punk rock song moves me in this specific way.

Joe Kiser and David Peralta’s guitars sound extraordinary, whether the guitars are locked in and layered together or when they are adding distinct and interesting textures within songs. The guitars create a drive, while adding a punch here and there. Throughout the whole record, they add to the impassioned feelings. On “A Part Of,” with the alternating fast and slow sections of song, the guitars mix with Frank’s words, “And I don’t want to be a part of/Your club that loves to hate on all I love.” Throughout the record, I really like the sequencing of songs. Following “A Part Of” is a slow song, “Days Are Long,” which creates a nice dynamic, especially with weight and tension of the lines “Days are long now/Years are short.” Then, Slap of Realty kicks it up again, with the start of “Gaslight.” Gregg Moore, on bass, and Rob Sexton, on drums, sound great on every track, establishing a solid foundation for the songs. I love how the bass is a little more forward during the slower moments in songs, and when just the drums and guitar are kicking off a song such as “Gaslight.” The distinct drum parts also intensify the empathic resonance of the music.

In many ways, Goodbye, Me is a perfect record for me. While my musical tastes are all over the map, I love melodic punk bands that rock while carrying an emotional weightiness that is expressed through the music and lyrics. I need music like this, as it helps make sense of daily struggles. Goodbye, Me embodies all of this. On “Cover It Up,” Frank sings, “Can we find another way/To make it through another day.” This is one of the songs I needed after an exhausting day, confronting too many disappointments. As I mentioned, the sequencing on the record is wonderful. The chorus in the following song, “94,” states “And I forgot/To tell you I’m there/And I forgot/To tell you I care.” The song is filled with love, a desire to connect with those who have been lost. In many ways, this song has become only more important considering that Rob Sexton, the drummer, unexpectedly died this summer. The song closes with the words, “You are never gone/You’ll live forever on and on in this song.” This song, this record, this music is further affirmation for how much we need to hold our loved ones close and to maintain our communities to support each other. 

Dolly Parton (1946-2026)

 

By Null

Something about Dolly Parton always seemed unbelievable. I felt that as a child, and I feel it even more so tonight upon the news of her death. How did she play the guitar with those long, painted fingernails?

I can’t remember a world without Dolly. I do remember hearing her on the radio before I ever stepped into a kindergarten classroom. I heard her hit songs on the radio as I moved though elementary school, middle school, and high school. Those songs stuck with me. They were a part of the soundtrack of not only my life but of all those around me, even those who didn’t really like country music. The songs were burned into our brains. Her voice was instantly recognizable and distinct. Dolly’s voice always reminded me of a bird. She seemed ever present, especially to a kid born in the 1970s. 

However, she never went away.

As an adult, I experienced the revelation that she was an incredible songwriter. I never realized she was such a master of the craft until I started to listen to her body of work.

She was a funny and kind-hearted person. She wanted kids to have books. She donated a million bucks to help fund vaccines. She never went the way of the spineless right-wing dolts. 

Yet, everyone seemed to love her. She cut through the bullshit with a charm and a twinkle in her eye. She glittered with rhinestones, but she still had shit on her shoes. 

There are so many reasons we loved her.

Besvärjelsen, Till Glömskan - Ad Oblivionem (2026)

By Beert

Besvärjelsen translates to “conjuring” in English. This band originally hails from Dalarna, Sweden. However, Bandcamp indicates that they now reside in Stockholm. They play self-described forest rock—think of it as Scandinavian desert rock, if labels and sub-genre categorizing is your bag. Following their acclaimed 2022 album, Atlas, Besvärjelsen bring us their latest offering, Till Glömskan - Ad Oblivionem, which will be released on August 28, 2026, on Magnetic Eye Records. 

I don’t recall how I stumbled across Besvärjelsen years ago, but I own the Frost (2019) EP and the Atlas LP. So, when I saw that they had a new album coming out this year, I jumped on the pre-order train (sea blue vinyl version for me, please—unfortunately, black was not an option). There is one good factor about social media, as that’s where I happen to see new releases such as this one being announced.

Prior to the release, three singles were unleashed upon us to whet our whistles and get us excited for the album. And, of course, I ate up every one of them. You can listen to songs at their Bandcamp page (https://besvarjelsen.bandcamp.com/album/till-gl-mskan-ad-oblivionem) or on YouTube (https://youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_n-dubUKalYFk7ejzD72eiydFpJjaNrdbQ&si=0Ad4omwXjaveTdZL).

Happily, my copy of the album arrived just over a week before the record is released. I wanted to get a review out before the actual release date. (Hell, getting anything written at any point is a step ahead in my book.) 

The first thing that stands out, before even removing the polyvinyl sleeve, is the fantastic cover art, which is a watercolor by Björn Olars. The beauty and subtle pain in the piece really puts the listener in a good frame of emotion for the album that is about to be spun.

As the needle hits the groove on “The Greatest Sin,” an audio door slowly opens and guides you into this album. The song has a moderately plodding blues underlay with soulful vocals, which start the journey of pain and heartbreak that fills this album. This album exposes the listener to a lot of heartache, loss, and grieving…but in a powerful sense. There is a definite emotional heaviness of love once had and love lost. Moreso than just breakup songs, these songs are about love and realization and a sadness behind it all. 

While the early singles released from the album are great, the album as a whole really provides the fully impassioned story you don’t quite get from the individual songs. It’s not a concept album, per se, but it does tell a story in its own way. There’s an anger behind the heartbreak in the songs. The lyrics give the sharpened details, but the music is a well-painted backdrop for all of it. The dark icing on the cake is the final song, “Oblivion.” When you listen to the other 10 songs, in my opinion, you’re blown away. The layering and heaviness (emotionally, as it’s not over-the-top heavy music) is brilliant. And then you’re left with “Oblivion.” It is a vocal and piano piece that pulls your heart out of your chest, hiding behind the beauty of the song.

The album is outstanding in a year full of fantastic releases, such as records by All Them Witches, Elder, Monolord, Blackwater Holylight, Heather The Jerk, Taxi Girls, Neurosis, Ealdor Bealu, Red Sun Atacama, etc. And, right now, it’s holding just above the others for Album of the Year for me. I don’t say that lightly, as I never choose an actual, single Album of the Year. But goddamn…get this album, now.

Thank you Besvärjelsen. Thank you for showing beauty in pain, love in heartbreak, and healing in devastation.

Bra-fucking-vo!

Iwaki Takehiko (also known as Jhaha/Jha Jha), Singer of Lip Cream (1963-2026)

By SoDak

In the late 1980s, I first heard the Japanese band Lip Cream thanks to a friend who gave me a cassette tape that included recordings of some of their songs along with others by Gauze, the Stalin, and G.I.S.M. (who I knew from the excellent 1984 International P.E.A.C.E. Benefit Compilation). All these Japanese hardcore bands were incredible, playing chaotic, high-speed punk rock. Lip Cream incorporated some very speedy rock-and-roll and blues riffs, in their early songs, and touches of metal and experimental music into later recordings. Jha Jha played bass in Dead Cops before becoming the vocalist for Lip Cream. His raw, blood-curdling style and frantic energy involved singing in Japanese and English, expressing anger about the alienating aspects of urban life in Japan. Many songs described the apocalyptic destruction of war. Jha Jha did the artwork for the Big Foot cassette, sometimes called Kill the IBM because these words were part of the design. From 1984 to 1990, Lip Cream made their mark, creating some distinct anarcho-Japanese hardcore punk, recording a series of blistering records, which Relapse Records re-issued at the end of 2025, beginning of 2026. Finally, I have copies to hear Jha Jha in full glory, spitting out the words, especially on the last studio record, sometimes called —SIN—.