Suffering Jukebox

This morning's episode features two interviews, with two highly unique, experimental guitarists. The first, with Shane Parish and the second with Marisa Anderson.

Shane Parish is about to release his new album, Autechre Guitar, via Bill Orcutt's Palilalia Records. It will be released this coming Friday, February 27th. You can find out more about Shane (and purchase his music) here; https://shaneparish.bandcamp.com/

Marisa Anderson just announced her latest album, The Anthology of UnAmerican Folk Music, which is a collection of songs performed in Marisa's own style, from countries and regions impacted over the years by US foreign policy and intervention. The Anthology of UnAmerican Folk Music will be released by Thrill Jockey on Friday May 22nd and she plays The Junk Bar this Saturday, 28th February, alongside Andrew Tuttle. You can find out more about Marisa (and purchase her music) here; https://marisaanderson.bandcamp.com/music

Nick's Pick of the Week is Craning's Distress Tolerance, which was released on Friday February 20th. You can hear it in all the usual places, or purchase it here; https://craning.bandcamp.com/album/distress-tolerance and my review can be read below.

 

Craning: Distress Tolerance (Self-Released)

Released 20th February 2026

“Please don’t move to Melbourne” implores a surprisingly popular —yet irritatingly repetitive— song that makes light of a well-known right of passage for many Meanjin creatives. The urge to leave the “large country town” in the north for the “big smoke” of the south is strong for many artists and musicians seeking greater opportunities and more liberal-minded communities. Try as Brisbane might, in the eyes of many, it still can’t shake the cultural backwater reputation it gained throughout the Joh Bjelke-Peterson era and —to be blunt— under the watch of the current state government, it may be headed that way again.

So it goes, local noise-rock/industrial-core outfit Craning played their final show as a Brisbane band and released their debut album, Distress Tolerance, on the same day —February 20, 2026. Having spent the better part of the last three (or so) years building a reputation as one of Meanjin’s most exciting, visceral and unpredictable rock bands, Craning’s small, but dedicated fanbase finally got to hear the fruits of the group’s labour in the form of five tracks of disturbingly brilliant and immensely challenging music.

Comprised of Amaya Dedes (musical lineage unknown) on bass, James Dimick formerly of Super Death and currently of Twine) on drums, James Eyre-Walker (formerly of Plainer, Requin and Verity Whisper) on guitar and Isobel Tait (formerly of Doggie Heaven) on vocals; although, since recording Amaya has been replaced on bass by Josh Strange, a former Brisbane boy —now based in Melbourne— and a veteran of bands as diverse as Quiet Steps, To The North, Nature Trails, Jazz Tiger and Gil Cerrone. Craning are a super-group of construction site sized proportions, designed to make you feel uncomfortable and purpose-built to scare the living shit out of you. Early shows featured masks, metallic objects, flashing lights and controlled destruction, whilst more recent shows tend to emphasise the music above theatrics, the band has lost none of their edge; nor an iota of their intensity.

Distress Tolerance begins with Start Pregnant and ends with Metro North Access Line. Across its almost half-hour runtime it ushers the listener through a litany of trials, tribulations and traumas that —were they not so downright exhilarating— would be nothing short of devastating. Jawmax, the album’s advance single, is all abrasive dissonance, shouted vocals and growling, grumbling bass lines. It gives way to the —far more experimental— Born With It, recorded at a house show in Indooroopilly in 2024, before disintegrating into the gleefully maniacal Clings. Saving the best for last, Metro North Access Line is far more dynamically diverse than anything that precedes it. Full of abrupt stops and starts and loud and quiet juxtapositions, by the time it ends one cannot help but feel relief, whilst fighting the urge to skip right back to track one and start again.

With Distress Tolerance, Craning have cemented their reputation with an epic debut that is equally shocking and exciting. This is an album of deeply unsettling music that manages to feel both world weary and naive —like a finding a discarded doll in an abandoned building. How do they do it? Who knows and who the fuck cares, as long as they keep doing what they’re doing. Brisbane may be about to mourn their loss, but Melbourne sure as hell ain’t aware of what’s about to hit it. 

Nick Stephan