THE FRONT ROW

There’s no pretending here – Splitbox aren’t reinventing the wheel, and they’re not trying to. Instead, they’re greasing the wheels with beer-soaked melody, chunky guitar riffs and a heap of nostalgic honesty. Formed in 2023 by a trio of long-time mates and musicians from York and the East of England, the band’s latest run of singles – The Blanket Over My Grave, Let Go The Anchor and Everlasting Chains – feels like the real culmination of their second chapter.

Kicking off this unofficial EP is The Blanket Over My Grave, the most emotionally direct of the three. It’s not subtle, but then again, neither were The Ataris or Face to Face in their heyday. With lines like “You’ll be the blanket over my grave / Forever you’ll listen for my heartbeat,” it wears its heart firmly on a tattered flannel sleeve. The track’s mid-tempo stomp and melodic edge recall early Alkaline Trio with a touch of Hot Water Music’s introspection – all underpinned by Paul’s gravelly, sincere vocal delivery. There’s regret, there’s yearning, and there’s just enough grit to stop it tipping into full-blown sentimentality.

Next up is Let Go The Anchor, the catchiest of the bunch and the one most likely to lodge in your brain like a pint glass to the forehead at a punk gig. This is Splitbox in full late-90s shout-along mode – Less Than Jake without the brass section, a bit of Pennywise-style pacing, and some proper big choruses. “This circle’s turned / Let go the anchor” might not change your worldview, but it will make you want to bounce around your living room or down a pint with your arm round a mate. The band’s tight musicianship shows here, with sharp drumming and driving bass pushing everything forward like a battered Vauxhall Astra down the A64.

Rounding it off is the newly released Everlasting Chains, their heaviest and darkest moment to date. With references to religion, shame, and “the son of the breaking dawn,” it leans into post-hardcore territory in both theme and tone. The vocals get rawer, the riffs sharper, and the lyrical imagery more dramatic: “Feel the guilt run through your veins / Start dancing on your own grave” is about as subtle as a boot to the chest – and all the better for it. There’s something cathartic about its chaos, echoing the grizzled urgency of bands like Strike Anywhere or early AFI.

None of these songs are polished to perfection, and they’re not meant to be. What you’re hearing is three guys who’ve been through the scene, found the fun again, and have no interest in chasing trends. The production is raw, the structures are tight, and the passion bleeds through every chorus, crash and lyric.

Splitbox aren’t looking for a record deal – they’re looking for a crowd, a pub, and a reason to turn it up loud. This trilogy of tracks is a testament to punk’s staying power and the joy of plugging in and shouting at the ceiling, no matter how many years you’ve been at it.

Put simply: it’s honest, scrappy, singalong punk with a purpose – and that purpose is to have a damn good time.