Stratford Rise - Stratford Rise EP (2025) Hi-Res

It feels as though the winds are finally shifting in Noise Rock’s favour. It’s been a good few years for the genre, especially in Ireland. Following the pioneering work of Gilla Band, a host of young artists have been exploring decibel destruction with the same fervor and intensity as the New York no-wavers and the Chicago Touch and Go scene. Just as equally, from New York, a new wave of experiential fairs seems to be emerging. In both cases, these bands’ music elicits a simple reaction: ‘How do you even make a guitar sound like that?’. Both camps have worthy contenders; Model/Actriz, Chalk, Enola Gay, YHWH Nailgun, and even a few English acts like Bathing Suits and Child3 show a remarkable sonic spark. Yet even among such prodigies, Stratford Rise seem to tower above. There are various reasons why they seem to outpace their admittedly excellent contemporaries. They’re technically proficient, raw and visceral, forward-thinking yet reminiscent of the Albini-produced greats of the genre. But above any other metric no band elicits that core reaction as much as Stratford Rise. At least once minute on their debut EP I was left asking that question ‘How the fuck do you even make a guitar sound like that?’

The immediate answer is with rigorous practice and proficiency. Stratford Rise isn’t merely an exciting young band but an incredibly efficient one. Their setup of two guitarists, a bassist and a drummer keeps things direct. This is an experimental rock with a strong emphasis on the rock element. The skittering guitars, shotgun blast bass, and industrial drums that have torn through gigs across Glasgow are here and in shining form. It’s a tried and true setup for sonic mutilation yet what makes Stratford Rise so impressive is their ability to surprise despite that seeming familiarity. The opener ‘Gunshow’ is an affair of razorblade shellac riffs and hawkish new-wave vocals. It might mislead a listener into expecting simply a more eccentric take on 90s post-hardcore, but it quickly evolves into spacey math rock riffery and an ear-bursting climax. Each track that follows quickly pushes the envelope further and further. ‘Prone’ begins with a glittering swirl of notes only to turn into a nightmarish no-wave sea shanty as guitarist Orion Courtney-Lee barks out garbled lyrics with the ferocity of The Fall’s Mark E. Smith. It sounds like The Jesus Lizard’s ‘Seasick’ processed and metamorphosed into pure data gore by a virus-ridden supercomputer.

There’s a sense across the EP of these songs having some previous touchstone. An indication that the band knows bands and knows what to ape. Yet while a bassline might resemble early Sonic Youth, or a brief guitar riff might call back to XTC, the context they’re placed in is always far from the source. ‘Snowsports‘ steely reverberating riffs may bring to mind the guitar work of Palm, but the way they’re used to contrast the crushing industrial breakdowns that make up the track’s chorus is a world away from Palm’s neo-psych mania. While the influences are obvious it never feels like Stratford Rise is attempting to reconstruct what came before. Rather like the best and brightest young artists, their intense listening habits have granted them an incredibly unique sonic arsenal. A sort of bleary funhouse psychedelia where styles treated less like creeds and more as tools to deliver increasingly crushing riffs.

It’s always a risk with bands with high ambitions that their eyes may end up bigger than their stomachs but Stratford Rise’s appetite is near ravenous. Their honed chemistry and proficiency is the sort of chaos magick that can only really be born out of the live circuit, but it allows their compositions to remain punchy and efficient even at their most experimental. Closer ‘Machine To Water’ is a miniature epic bringing together bizarre no-wave circus rhythms with math rock pondering into a roaring rampage of post-hardcore destruction. Tom Martins’s bass lassos the chaos as Orion and Rory Kinghans guitars turn into a shredding infinity in rhythms with the industrial clang of Ruben Carver’s drums. It’s excellent stuff done with such raw intensity that, even though they manage to nail the whole drifting away on a sad bit of slowcore ending, you feel desperate to be stuck in its grinding sounds forever. That’s what makes Stratford Rise so good. While they may wear their influences a little too heavily on their sleeves the deeper you get into them the less you care how they made those sounds and the more you want to live in them. It’s not just abrasive noise chaos but infectious and tempting noise chaos. The sort you desire it as much as it repulses you.