The noisy Atlanta duo ‘68 released their third full-length studio album Give One Take One, out now via Cooking Vinyl. Across ten tracks, vocalist and guitarist Josh Scogin (The Chariot, Norma Jean) and drummer Nikko Yamada, display their boldest songwriting yet, laden with hooks without losing any of their raw, in-your-face approach. The duo balance blistering walls of sound with nuanced songwriting to keep the listener on their toes from beginning to end. Produced by Grammy-winner Nick Raskulinecz (Foo Fighters, Rush, Alice In Chains), Give One Take One is built on pure energy, a wild ride of ingenuity that still manages to be danceable and fun. In addition to the hand-drawn and animated music video for the single “Bad Bite”, Scogin also created a documentary around the making of the album, only viewable to those who pre-ordered the record. Watch a teaser for the documentary here and listen to the album here.
Speaking on the album release, Scogin said: “This album has been a long time coming. We recorded in the summer of 2019 and had to sit on them until now, the next step in to see these songs fulfilled live. I’m hoping that comes sooner than later.”
He further commented on the creation of the documentary: “While we sat in limbo during the 2020 shutdown, I gathered all the footage that I had and created a documentary. It was mostly done for fun, to keep me from losing my mind because I’m not good at sitting idle. The end product shows a small glimpse into the world of ‘68 and how winging it by the seat of your pants can be a real adventurous way to live.”
How much noise can two people make? ‘68 is the sound of simultaneous implosion and explosion, of destruction and creation unbound. These are songs that could almost fall apart at any moment, yet never do, devilishly dancing between life and death. It’s a primitive impulse delivered with postmodern purpose; a blacksmith’s resolve with an arsenal of electric distortion and raw nerve.
Josh Scogin kickstarted his small band with the big sound in 2013, naming the two-man outfit he modestly undersells as “a little rock, a little blues, a little hardcore” after his father’s old Camaro. And there’s a muscle car-sized rumble beneath the hood of what the Atlanta, Georgia native and his percussive partner-in-crime, Nikko Yamada, unleash with an array of guitar, bass, drums, keys, and pedals, careening between swinging barnburners, wild haymakers, and moody atmosphere.
The ’68 roadshow has taken them from Moscow to Tel Aviv, across Europe and Australia and all-over North America, often splitting up 20-hour drives between the two guys. The passion, the hunger, the good humor, it all connects with diverse crowds. Deliciously stripped down and vibrant, ’68 excels in intimate environments, to be sure, but is no less unignorable on giant festival stages or on the road with Bring Me The Horizon, Stone Sour, Beartooth, Avatar, August Burns Red, The Amity Affliction, and Underoath, where they’ve earned new converts every day.
In Humor and Sadness, the first album by ’68, debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard New Artist Chart. Two Parts Viper followed in 2017. “[‘68] bring the noise in the most righteous ways, caring less about the scene they came up through, the bloodless drivel that passes as ‘indie’ and the boring earnestness currently permeating ‘punk,’” declared Alternative Press. “Two Parts Viper is the best record of the year. Throw a copy in my casket, because I’ll never be done listening to it.”
Grammy-winning producer Nick Raskulinecz (Foo Fighters, Rush, Alice In Chains) became a believer after just a few songs of a ’68 set. On Give One Take One, crafted with Raskulinecz in Nashville, the band’s high intensity bombast threatens but never swallows the underlying groove.
With the same spirit of scrappy “winging it” and punchy minimalism that powered the Flat Duo Jets and The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, ’68 push forward the pure rock traditions of audacity and disruption. Scogin gives everything to the microphone, as if singing to redeem his soul. He wields his guitar and keys like weapons, pulverizing away any false pretenses. It’s about the riff and the kick. It’s immediate. It’s alive. And it’s fun. Sweaty catharsis, cutting missives, surrendered by ’68 as if the world depends on them. Because in ’68, less is more. Oh, so much more.