As we have endeavored to diversify the breadth of timbres we cover here on our podcast over the past several episodes, our journey has led us across some engrossing terrains. A few weeks back, we rambled about the caustic effusions of harsh noise seeping from clipping.’s harrowing brand of horrorcore, we unhinged ourselves as we attempted to mimic the maniacal word slop spilling from Chat Pile’s Remove Your Skin Please, and we floated through the hypnotizing realm of electronics where science collides with spirits in Lemna’s Retrocausality. Now we approach another frontier. It’s one not wholly alien to us as it is imbued with flickers of noise rock. However, this outfit lovingly embraces a whirlwind of timbres, blending balmy gales of infectious hooks sideswiped by mathy clods of misshapen rambunctiousness to coalesce into an auditory experience that channels the fragrant stillness of a twilit evening in the dead of summer. This is Mammock and their debut album, Itch.

The concrete date of Mammock’s formation is not abundantly clear to us, but their earliest social media post suggests they may have congealed some time in 2018. Itch was recorded during February 2019 and it dropped on the first day of 2020 (our first podcast review for a record that came out this year! Day late and a dollar short, I suppose). In the album’s thirty-minute runtime, Mammock splays themselves aslant. Palatable riffs are abundant and often oscillate between grooving hooks and spams of feedback or off-kilter lunacy. Junctures of giddy—and sometimes cheeky—bliss burgeon amidst the warm atmospheric resonance radiating from their strings. Further yet, they achieve a smattering of ephemeral highs by way of slow-burn melodies, some of which stir elation and some of which dredge a soulful longing. Itch was quite a wonderful surprise for Connor to stumble upon. Though it’s not within our “traditional” fair, we had a slew of words to share over it. We sincerely hope you enjoy our exchange; thank you for tuning in.