Opening with "Weirdos in Basements," the band establishes their sonic coordinates immediately: this is punk rock that wears its influences without apology, channeling the sardonic energy of early Descendents whilst maintaining a distinctly modern self-awareness. The production—handled by the band themselves—favours urgency over polish, capturing the kind of live-room intensity that makes you feel the spit hitting the microphone. It's the sound of four people in a room who understand implicitly that overthinking is the enemy of momentum.
"Fare Inspector" pivots into darker territory, both lyrically and musically. Here, The Bare Minimum demonstrate that their apparent simplicity masks a genuine knack for dynamics. The guitar work from Mick Hutchinson refuses to merely bash away at power chords, instead weaving melodic lines that provide genuine counterpoint to Cam Gray's ragged vocals. When the chorus arrives—a gang-shouted affair that could have been lifted from a Propagandhi B-side—it feels earned rather than formulaic.
The title track occupies the album's emotional centre, and it's here that the band's conceptual ambitions come into sharpest focus. "Doomed City" isn't merely a catchy phrase; it represents a meditation on urban alienation filtered through the lens of trash-punk aesthetics. The lyrics, delivered with Gray's characteristic sneer, catalogue the small indignities of modern life without tipping into either sentimentality or cynicism. It's observational punk rock that trusts its audience to connect the dots, refusing to underline its points with unnecessary emphasis.
Closer "We Can't Bring Drums" serves as both punchline and mission statement. The track—presumably recorded without the percussive contributions of Chris Nikolaidis—demonstrates the band's willingness to subvert expectations even within the confines of a seventeen-minute EP. It's cheeky without being precious, experimental without becoming unlistenable, and it leaves you wanting more even as you question whether more would dilute the impact.
The comparisons to PUP that pepper their Bandcamp page aren't entirely unwarranted, but they risk obscuring what makes The Bare Minimum compelling on their own terms. Where PUP have increasingly embraced studio sheen and architectural ambition, The Bare Minimum remain committed to a kind of deliberate roughness that feels authentic rather than affected. This is music made by people who understand that punk rock's power lies not in technical proficiency but in emotional directness.
The mixing by Devon Lougheed at SuperBONBON Sound deserves particular mention for capturing the band's live energy without sacrificing clarity. Each instrument occupies its own space in the mix, allowing the interplay between Donnie Hopper's bass and Hutchinson's guitar to breathe properly. When the backing vocals kick in—particularly on the aforementioned gang-shout moments—they hit with the force of genuine conviction rather than studio trickery.
Ultimately, *Doomed City* confirms The Bare Minimum as torchbearers for a particular strain of intelligent trash-punk that values wit and energy in equal measure. They're not reinventing the wheel, nor do they seem particularly interested in doing so. Instead, they're content to make the wheel spin faster, adding just enough wobble to keep things interesting. For a band whose very name suggests lowered expectations, they're doing considerably more than the minimum required. Whether that irony is intentional or accidental matters less than the fact that these four tracks absolutely rip.