Suffering Jukebox

This morning's episode features an interview Adam McArthur, owner of Team Glasses Records, member of Vestiges and Raw Impact and co-organiser of countless shows and the Cold Day In BNE festivals. Find out more about Team Glasses Records here; https://teamglasses.bandcamp.com/music Vestiges here; https://vestigesbne.bandcamp.com/ and stay tuned for some recordings from Raw Impact in the very near future.

Following today's show, I will be overseas in Europe, returning on Monday 27th October. I have lined up a stellar cast of guest announcers to take care of Suffering Jukebox while I am away. The schedule for the next five weeks is as follows:

• 22nd September - Max and Issy (Know Idea)
• 29th September - Owen/DJ Ozzz (Randomizzzed)
• 6th October - Cass (Goo)
• 13th October - Ben/Orlando Furious (Wildcard)
• 20th October - Tristan (The Lobster Trick)

Nick's Pick of the Week is Leaker's Happyhour, which was released last Friday, August 29th. You can hear it in all the usual places, or purchase it here; https://leaker.bandcamp.com/album/happyhour and my review can be read below.

Leaker: Happy Hour (Self-Released)

Released 12th September 2025

There are a few lines scattered throughout the eleven songs and forty-three minutes of Happyhour that give you an indication of Leaker’s bleakly humorous world view. “Well I know what kind of a man you are: just another crab in the bucket” on Powderfinger, “It isn't a tragedy that Steve Irwin was killed doing what he loved,” on Eyes and “It doesn’t get better / It’s not getting better / It’s never getting better” on Old Dog. In essence: I’m not, you’re not, we’re all not special, death isn’t the worst fate that can befall a person and —in the end— we’re all fucked and destined to wallow in the collective mess that we’ve created. All that aside, Happyhour is a revitalising blast of discordant noise-rock (influenced by everything from Korn to The Jesus Lizard) that, despite its nihilistic tendencies, is a goddamn enjoyable listen.

Trying to make sense of the collective sum of Leaker’s parts wouldn’t yield a particularly cohesive result. its members have played in bands as diverse as Quiet Steps, Nature Trails and Old Love, The Perineum Sun House Band and The Arturos. There are very few clues as to core of Leaker’s sound to be found in the past discographies of Liam Anderson (vocals), Danyn Andrews (drums) and Leon Perkin (guitar) and Robb Perkin (bass) other than their collective interest in a vast array of musical styles; incorporating aspects of thrash and groove metal, to discordant atonality and the metallic thud of the late 80s/early 90s Touch And Go roster.

Wrong commences with the click/tsch sound of a beer can being opened, before Anderson advises the us —rather intensely— that,“Something’s wrong!” It goes without saying that the band doesn’t really let up for the duration of Happyhour, pummelling the listener into submission for a good three quarters of an hour until the final track, Piss Bucket Escape Room, grinds to a halt in a squall of feedback and distortion.  

In terms of highlights, Eyes and Enshittification are two standouts from the record’s first half, with Eyes in particular leaning far more in to the metallic noise of acts like Big Black and The Mark Of Cain. Like those artists —and for any guitar nerds playing at home— Leon utilises an all aluminium Electrical Guitar Company Jazzmaster whilst Robb plays a late 70s Travis Bean TB3000, instruments known for imparting a biting, buzzing tone. At just over five minutes, Old Dog is one of the album’s longer tracks and perhaps the truest embodiment of Leaker’s sound. Old Dog starts slow, then speeds up, before abruptly slowing down (again); tightening (and loosening) the screw, like a malicious cat toying with an injured mouse, it never lets its prey (the listener) forget its place. 

Anyone who has witnessed Leaker perform live in the two or so years since their formation will know that they their own space within Meanjin/Brisbane’s heavy music scene. Outliers and outsiders, they occupy a place all to their own, content to carve their own niche into the soft underbelly of the local music scene. Happyhour cements their place as a band to take a note of, a concrete slab of brutally intense music that curries no favours and takes no prisoners.

Nick Stephan