Volbeat, Ground Components, & Enuff Z'Nuff
Catch up on the week in new music and Dig Me Out podcasts
Enuff Z'Nuff - Enuff Z'Nuff | 80s Metal Revisited
Summer of ’89. The radio was a mixtape of shifting eras. Mötley Crüe’s Dr. Feelgood was weeks away from setting glam’s commercial high-water mark. L.A. Guns dropped Cocked & Loaded, all sleaze and swagger. The Stones came roaring back with Steel Wheels
Ground Components - An Eye for a Brow, A Tooth for a Pick | 2000s Rock Revisited
In 2007, while the blogosphere was busy anointing Arctic Monkeys and clapping for Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, a Melbourne band quietly dropped a genre-smashing, soul-garage-dance-punk explosion that barely made a ripple. You wouldn't find them on MTV2 or Pitchfork's front page, but if you'd been lucky enough to stumble into a Melbourne club that year, you…
90s Rock Tournament | Vote
Each month, listeners nominate the under-the-radar 90s rock albums that still echo in their heads. Records that meant something then and deserve another listen. This round features four listener picks, each with its own story, sound, and slice of the ‘90s.
New Releases
Pulp – More.
Jarvis Cocker is back, and he’s still got something to say. More. picks up where Pulp left off, but this isn’t a reunion stuck in amber. The wit’s intact, but it carries more weight now. You can hear the years in every groove, especially on “Spike Island,” where techno unease bubbles under Jarvis’s half-sung, half-spoken warnings.
Dedicated to the late Steve Mackey, this album feels like a postcard from the future written by ghosts of Britpop past. String arrangements swell. Synths flicker. Even Brian Eno’s family shows up to lend voices to the blur. The album was recorded in just three weeks, but nothing feels rushed. It feels inevitable.
Lead into Gold – Knife The Ally
Paul Barker never cared about polish. This is him back in the shadows, where old wires hum and drum machines feel like they might catch fire. Knife The Ally hits like a long-lost reel from the Wax Trax vaults, rediscovered and plugged straight into the chaos of 2025.
It’s gritty and unrelenting, but not empty. There’s a strange warmth buried under the distortion. Tracks feel alive, like sentient tech processing trauma. It’s the kind of album that doesn’t just nod to the past. It picks it up, scuffs it again, and reminds you why it mattered.
Katatonia – Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State
This one’s a slow drift into familiar waters. Jonas Renkse carries the torch alone now, and his vision is as focused as ever. There’s no reinvention here, just a deepening of what Katatonia has always done best—balancing heavy gloom with haunting melody.
“Thrice” opens the album with a riff that could have lived on Night Is the New Day. Then comes “Efter Solen,” a quiet shift into Swedish lyrics that pulls the listener closer. The whole record moves between crunch and calm, like a restless mind trying to sleep. It won’t jolt anyone wide awake, but it might leave them staring at the ceiling a little longer.
Death in Vegas – Death Mask
Richard Fearless has gone quiet, but not soft. This album plays like a long walk through memory with only shadows for company. No vocals. No pop structure. Just dub-soaked techno sketches that stretch into something raw and real.
“Chingola” pulls from his birthplace in Zambia, while the title track closes with organs and noise that somehow feel hopeful. It’s hard to pin this one down, which feels intentional. These aren’t songs for dancing. They’re for feeling something when you thought you were numb.
Tracy Bonham – Sky Too Wide
Forget what you remember from “Mother Mother.” Tracy Bonham is chasing different ghosts now. Sky Too Wide leans into cabaret moods and chamber-pop detail. Jazz rhythms swirl around upright bass and violin, with Bonham’s voice sliding from whisper to sneer.
“Jumping Bean” taps back into her alt-rock fire, but most of the record stays in slower, deeper waters. “Safe With Me” lingers the longest, a quiet goodbye sung like a secret. It’s not a pivot, really. It feels more like she’s showing us the other room in the same house.
Asteroid B-612 – roads, stars.
Asteroid B-612 never really broke through, but the people who found them back in the day never forgot. This is for them. roads, stars. hits with the same greasy energy they left behind in the late ’90s, only now it sounds even more urgent.
Guitars blaze. The rhythm section charges forward. “Park Bench Gods” already feels like a live favorite. There’s no polish here, just guts and volume. They’re not trying to write a new chapter. They’re reminding us the last one never ended.
Volbeat – God of Angels Trust
Michael Poulsen sounds like he’s having fun again. After some lineup changes and vocal surgery, Volbeat has kicked the door open with this one. The songs came together fast, recorded mostly live, and you can feel the looseness in every riff.
“Devils Are Awake” and “By a Monster’s Hand” stick with the band’s usual bombast, while tracks like “Demonic Depression” mix heaviness with weird joy. There’s a twinkle of absurdity in some of the lyrics too, like they’re daring you not to grin. This isn’t a reinvention. It’s a loud, fast reminder that Volbeat still has gas in the tank.
The Doobie Brothers – Walk This Road
Tom Johnston, Michael McDonald, and Pat Simmons are all here. That alone makes this album feel historic. Walk This Road doesn’t try to out-boogie the past, but it does thread the Doobies’ many voices into one long, thoughtful ride.
The title track, featuring Mavis Staples, might be the standout. Elsewhere, Pat brings folk warmth, Tom drives the rhythm, and Michael delivers that unmistakable soul. There’s a comfort to this record, like old friends finding their groove again. You won’t be surprised by what’s here, but you’ll be glad it exists.