Madison musicians bare their teeth

There are a lot of reasons to be pissed off right now. Corporatism’s largely-unchecked rise is extending the road of late-stage capitalism, various authoritarian-flavored fascist takeovers (domestically and globally) are being broadcast in real time, and neither is instilling an acceptance of complacency. Nor is an entirely compromised federal structure that has left Americans unable to trust in the long-established system of checks and balances. National-scale failures often leave local markets bearing the cruelest brunt of impact, which inevitably clouds the doorstep of the everyperson. When the institutions around us continue to falter or dissipate, there is a very real and very unavoidable tendency to wallow in pessimism. And, a lot of times, that pessimism circles right back to being pissed the fuck off.

Art exists, in part, as a vessel of and for cathartic commentary.

Sometimes this happens on a hyper-personal scale; there’s a reason why albums inspired by breakups are so prevalent. But even when artistic reactions aim to address broader concerns (Geese’s seemingly unavoidable Getting Killed being the most of-the-moment example), they’re generally coming from an unmistakably intimate perspective. Madison artists—especially over the past few months—have been showcasing that intimacy, and frequently marrying it with a weighty, antagonistic aggression. Even in cases like Heather The Jerk’s truly excellent, ostensibly peppy very motorcycle, the narrative framework relies on unshakable ennui.

Everyone is feeling a little darker these days, which is hitting especially hard at a time of year when the sun is setting earlier. It’s a small comfort, at least, to have some company in the deep end of the ever-widening pool of dissatisfaction. Art doesn’t have to change the world, but it does help make existing in it a bit more manageable. Madison artists know this on a profound scale, and recognize the hidden value inherent to not just their own work, but the work of their contemporaries. And while it would only take listeners a handful of hours to listen to all six releases featured on this list, the individual legacies of these records have a chance to carry on for years to come.

If you’d like to support these artists, go to their shows. Buy from them or their label directly, or from the Bandcamp links provided in this piece. If you’re a local artist who would like to submit your release for consideration, you can email me directly at steven@tonemadison.com.

Aergo, Grief, Wisconsin

Aergo’s debut album, Grief, Wisconsin, is an intoxicating amalgamation of energy, determination, and artistic influences. Equal parts screamo, indie-rock, and ’90s alt-rock revivalism, the quartet makes one hell of an introduction. Flecks of psych-rock, doom, and even some light forays into classic thrash-metal are scattered across Grief, Wisconsin‘s seven tracks, all of which seem hell-bent on flooring the gas pedal. Take the outro of “Celibate World,” and the intro of “I Know You Have Things You Want To Say,” and it would not be a difficult task to convince someone Aergo was a hardcore band. But, as is often the case these days, diminishing their influence down to a singular genre would be unnecessarily reductive.

All of these tracks elicit an immediate response, and one that’s highly favorable, at that. But they also absolutely fly by, up to and including the mid-point showstopper, “What Is The Irony?” A few ticks over five and a half minutes, the hard-charging, acoustic-guitar-led track is a shining example of Aergo’s intrinsic ability to corral all of their influences into something that’s not only coherent, but alluring for a wide swath of listeners with fairly disparate tastes. As is also the case with many of the releases on this list, a prevailing frustration dominates the bulk of the work. But, crucially, Grief, Wisconsin, ends with a sliver of hope. On closer “Sunshine Is A Reward,” bandleader Emilio De La Rosa screams “All my friends have left me / But I still stand / My garden has wilted to pieces / But I still grasp hope in my hands.” It’s a beautiful, hard-earned moment buried in a bleak landscape, and a potent reminder that there will always be reasons to keep going.

Baby Tyler Band, Sucker With A Dream

Ever since adapting to the full-band format, the Tyler Fassnacht-led Baby Tyler Band’s been on a tear. Sucker With A Dream doesn’t rewrite the hardcore band’s formula, but the album still manages to feel like a meaningful evolution. Fassnacht’s barked vocals have never had more bite, the guitar work has never sounded as determined or fierce, and the rhythm section’s battering-ram approach has never been quite so relentless. Only two tracks on Sucker With A Dream (midpoint setpiece “Rinse & Repeat” and closer “Old Advice”) extend beyond two minutes, but virtually all of them are high-impact.

The first of those longer songs, “Rinse & Repeat,” boasts some particularly lethal swings into half-time that dip Sucker With A Dream‘s proverbial toes into metal territory. That dip into a heavier, slower section  gets an implicit counterweight via a burst of ferocious double-time on memorably entertaining bass run in the aptly-named ensuing track, “Entertain.” Small moments of playfulness litter Sucker With A Dream, providing a slight reprieve from the overwhelming—and ultimately winsome—hostility of Baby Tyler Band’s musical attack. The end result is a deceptively varied palette that marks Sucker With A Dream as the project’s best album to date.

Calamity, Aponia

Discontentment hangs like a heavy fog over Calamity’s raucous Aponia. Ever since the metal-tipped psych-punk trio’s self-titled debut in 2021, they’ve excelled in embracing unease. “Melt,” especially, is an effective demonstration of the band’s uncanny penchant to cultivate an atmosphere of pervasive gloom and uncertainty. The feeling is further skyrocketed by the shouted, introductory line of the ensuing track, “Gimme Blood.” (“I WANT YOU TO DRAG A KNIFE ACROSS MY CHEST WHILE YOU 1-2-3-4.”) While much of Aponia comes across as a throwback to classic ’80s stoner metal, a modern sense of urgency imbues it with the energy of a cataclysmic reckoning.

Aching, melancholic guitar lines impart a gothic sensibility, contributing heavily to an eerie atmosphere, while the solidly grounded rhythm section adds a sense of formidability. Calamity carries this dynamic through all 11 tracks, proving their grasp of their craft is only strengthening with time. On a narrative front, the band’s focus is fairly unwavering and best encapsulated by a portion of lyrics from “Vertigo.” “Out at the edge of the world / I think I found my peace / But it only goes to show / We hang from our beliefs.” The brutal, tragic, and uncompromising worldview is predicated on an awareness of perpetual shortcoming, feeding right back into the uncertainty and discontentment at the heart of Calamity’s heaviness.

Frozen Charlotte, “Rotten On The Vine“

On the first day of October, the Sigra-led Frozen Charlotte released the immeasurably arresting “Rotten On The Vine,” a deeply haunted minimalist post-punk meditation on contending with the awareness of our own mortality. “Maybe it’s noble / This chemical compound / Maybe I’m building something new as I dissolve / My greatest enemy / Has always been / Will always be / The clock, it haunts me / I stand still and I watch the hands revolve,” sings Sigra in her inimitable falsetto. The striking passage leans into the track’s central metaphor while still playing with a clever double-meaning. (The last line conjures an image of someone paralyzed by their realization of self, staring down while absent-mindedly twiddling their wrists in a moment of existential crisis.) Forceful drums, atmospheric, driving bass, and an expressive vocal performance that oscillates between a meticulous hush and an attention-demanding vibrato combine to make this a genuine show-stopper.

Alex Yaco Kalfayan, Serendipitous String

Alex Yaco Kalfayan has been busy of late, releasing three albums since the start of September. While Warm Works and Discounted PSR are both deserving of genuine praise, the piece de resistance of this trio of releases is Serendipitous String. Roughly two hours in length, Kalfayan’s latest has a realistic shot at being remembered as a magnum opus. Wide-ranging explorations of new-school jazz abound on Serendipitous String, which opens with a stunner (“Born Free, Hoping For Liberty”) that clocks in at just under 16 minutes. Bass, woodwind, and percussion all dance around each other, with a snare and hi-hat consistently heightened in the mix to create a sense of momentum that pushes the arrangements forward.

Even on its more minimal and melancholic moments, a quiet fury drives Kalfayan’s work here, as evidenced by the extremely pointed song titles: “I Am Okay With Killing Your Grandma If I Can Avoid A Vaccination Because I Am A Measly, Brain Worm Having, Little Bitch,” and “Defunding Education And Sending The Public’s Money To Teach Creationism,” being two of many standouts. It’s a righteous anger with deep roots. “These recordings were made when I was witnessing a lot of needless suffering related to ignorance and fossil fuel cartels; and while all of us were watching new levels of violence normalization,” says Kalfayan in a late October email exchange with Tone Madison.

“I wanted to make music to inspire healing and inspire people to use their agency for social change for the better,” says Kaflayan. “There are also much better policy choices available to us that have better potential resolutions. I am hoping people will write their elected officials to demand an end to the suicidal political economy being pushed on us by the fossil fuel cartels’ short term interests.” All of this weight can be felt over Serendipitous Strings‘ run time, as can the cathartic release. (“It would also be nice [to listen to] while folding laundry,” quips Kalfayan, effectively communicating that retention of small joy.) An extraordinary achievement.

In Ropes + Slick, Split

Less than two months after Tone Madison‘s extensive profile of prolific indie-punk quartet Slick, the band has added a new entry to their discography. Slick’s latest release is a fiery split cassette with the similarly-minded In Ropes, a scrappy punk-leaning power trio (Guitarist/vocalist Leo Ryan, Bassist/vocalist Abe Randle, and drummer Francis Randall) who have been steadily releasing new material since January 2025. The connective tissue bridging the two bands comes across as not just strong, but strangely poignant on Split, which ultimately becomes a testament to collaboration and community.

In Ropes’ opening two tracks constitute the cassette’s A side and flit between shoegaze and straight-ahead punk tendencies, landing somewhere in the realm of art-punk’s periphery. Between that pair of tunes—”Doing It Right” and “Angelus Novus”—there’s never a dull moment. Each constantly threatens to veer in unexpected directions while barely clinging to the rails. It’s an exhilarating experience. Slick, for their part, continue on the path they’ve set for themselves and contribute four exceptionally strong, ’90s-indebted mid-fi, mid-tempo punk numbers. Everything about Split is so classically emblematic of DIY punk’s best traits that it ultimately develops a sheen of relative timelessness. A blast from start to finish, the tape’s firmly positioned to be a cherished—and potentially sought-after—part of each band’s discography.