Ginhouse hit the scene like a British hard rock wrecking ball, but instead of sticking around to bask in the glory, they vanished into the ether, leaving behind this one snarling, blues-drenched beast of an album. This is proto-prog with dirt under its fingernails—think Deep Purple without the Hammond overkill, or Uriah Heep if they spent less time in wizard robes and more time in bar fights.
“Tyne God” is a brawler’s anthem, stomping forward with a riff so thick it could club a man unconscious, while “Fair Stood the Wind” drifts into pastoral psych territory, the band proving they weren’t just here to crush skulls. But it’s “The House” that really seals the deal—an eerie, creeping monster of a track that feels like it crawled straight out of a Hammer horror film.
Ginhouse might have been a flash in the pan, but what a flash—like a streetlamp exploding in the dead of night, leaving you stumbling through the dark, ears still ringing.
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### **The Names – *Swimming (1982)***
This is Factory Records’ most shadowy secret, the Belgian answer to Joy Division but with a touch more doomed romanticism, like a band playing at the bottom of a rain-slicked well. *Swimming* is all tension and atmosphere, a post-punk cathedral of echoing guitars and synths that shimmer like streetlights reflecting off wet pavement.
“Discovery” sounds like a ghost trying to make contact through a radio broadcast, the bassline a heartbeat beneath Adrian Borland’s detached, spectral vocals. “Life By the Sea” is the ultimate cold wave lament, a song that practically exhales cigarette smoke as it drifts through empty city streets. And then there’s “Calcutta” with its hypnotic pulse and noir-film paranoia—this isn’t just music, it’s an environment, a world you step into and can’t quite find your way out of.
The Names never got the acclaim of their Factory labelmates, but *Swimming* is proof they deserved it. This is post-punk at its most cinematic—music for lost souls wandering through flickering neon haze.
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### **Tin Huey – *Contents Dislodged During Shipment (1979)***
This is what happens when a bunch of avant-weirdos take art-punk, slam it into Zappa’s blender, and hit the highest setting. Tin Huey weren’t just making an album—they were throwing pies at the entire ‘70s rock landscape while grinning like lunatics.
The opener, “I’m a Believer,” turns the Monkees’ bubblegum anthem into a manic, sax-squawking freakout. “Puppet Wipes” is Devo with a hangover, jittery and chaotic, while “I Could Rule the World If I Could Only Get the Parts” sounds like Pere Ubu throwing a tantrum in a toy store. This is punk rock for the absurdists, prog for the pranksters, new wave for the utterly unhinged.
It’s no surprise Tin Huey never became household names—you can’t market something this gleefully uncontainable. *Contents Dislodged During Shipment* isn’t just a warning label, it’s a promise. Open this box at your own risk.
---### **Axe – *Offering (1982)***
By 1982, Southern rock was either dying out or selling out, but Axe took a different route—they doubled down on their arena-rock ambitions and came out with *Offering*, a record that’s part whiskey-soaked road anthem, part FM-radio polish, and all muscle. This is where the rough edges of their ‘70s sound meet the slick, soaring production of early ‘80s hard rock, and somehow, they make it work.
"Rock 'n' Roll Party in the Streets" is the big one, an unapologetic, fist-pumping anthem built for summer nights, revving engines, and neon-lit trouble. But Axe weren’t just about the party—tracks like "Silent Soldiers" bring a dramatic, almost cinematic weight, while "Burn the City Down" channels a desperation that feels like a band clawing their way out of the underground. The ballads, like “Now or Never,” hit with just enough bombast to work, avoiding the syrupy pitfalls of their hair-metal contemporaries.
*Offering* sits in that sweet spot between Southern grit and radio-friendly grandeur. It may not have launched Axe into the big leagues, but it proved they could go toe-to-toe with the rising hard rock giants—and in some cases, outplay them.
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