This will be the summer of Singaporean hardcore – in Europe, that is.
This June and July, three hardcore punk bands from the country will embark on tours of the UK and Europe – two of them for the very first time. The members of Sial, Fuse and Doldrey are friends, often sharing practice spaces and some even starting side projects together – but, in a particularly surprising coincidence given the smallness of Singapore’s underground scene, planned their tours completely independently of each other.
It’s an interesting time for hardcore music, post-‘Glow On’ and Turnstile’s three Grammy nominations – and, to zoom into Singapore, also an interesting time in the country’s independent music scene. DIY venues seem to have shorter shelf-lives than ever before, but countering the bleakness are fresh, exciting artists coming up and the younger, energetic fans coming out to shows post-pandemic. It’s new blood that will, with any luck, keep this scene going: “We’re just hoping that the new kids or new people that are coming in [to shows] can create something too,” says Fuse vocalist Dahliah Kamal.
Get a window into Singapore’s heavy underground by reading NME’s interviews with Sial, Fuse and Doldrey below – and, if you’re in the UK or Europe this summer, get yourself down to a show.
Sial
Sial are a force of nature. That soon becomes obvious to anyone who hears the band whether on record or at a live show, taking in Izzad Radzali Shah’s pummelling drums, the buzzsaw guitar-and-bass attack of Hafiz Shamsudin and Zafran Mohd, and most prominently, Siti Fatimah’s ferocious vocals, fuelled by fury and resentment at the injustice and oppression that Sial see in society today.
Across two full-length albums, two EPs and a two-track single, Sial have carved out a discography that has captivated listeners in Singapore and Southeast Asia – and thanks to the international punk community the band members are part of, as well as coverage in the likes of Stereogum and The Quietus, earned them fans in farther-flung places, too. Sitting in Surface Noise Records, the record shop and distributor run by Zafran, Hafiz recalls the 2016 formation of Sial and their desire, from the start, for a vocalist who sang in Malay. “English is boring,” he tells NME as Siti chuckles. “The English vocabulary is limited. Malay is more expressive.”
Chief lyricist Siti works with Izzad to imbue Sial’s music with social commentary, often through literary metaphor, about different layers of society, histories of colonisation, the experiences of the marginalised, and lightning-rod topics like capital punishment; the title of their latest EP ‘Sangkar’ means ‘cage’, and the title of their 2020 album ‘Tari Pemusnah Kuasa’ translates to ‘Dance of the Power Crusher’. Her current studies for a degree in Malay language and literature are how Siti started to “understand more about the power of words”, she shares. “Words can bring down the biggest empire, or they can lift up spirits.”
Writing in a more lyrical than colloquial register of Malay, using proverbs and taking inspiration from literary works, Siti relishes her lyrics’ contrast with the raw aggression of Sial’s music (not to mention their band name, which is a Malay expletive). “I like to explore how I can sing grittily, but the lyrics and language have to be romantic.” With the exception of the synth-heavy two-track ‘Zaman Edan’ – written while the band were homebound due to the pandemic – Sial’s music is hard, fast and loud, reflecting their ’80s hardcore inspirations.
“Words can bring down the biggest empire, or they can lift up spirits”
So it’s not surprising when Hafiz says Sial are looking forward to checking out primitive punk bands in Spain when they embark on their 10-date tour of the UK and Europe this week. The most seasoned group of the three NME’s profiling here, Sial have already toured the US, Europe and Southeast Asia. Hafiz quips that this first big trip out since Covid is something like Sial’s post-pandemic “touring revenge” – but with inflation affecting everything from plane tickets to shirt printing, it’s coming at a dearer price than their past outings.
After the UK and Europe, Sial plan to head to Japan in December – and perhaps at some point release the new music that they have in the tank. The band try to put out something new every year, but the consistency doesn’t necessarily mean the future of Sial is set in stone. The band would rather be a powerful, short-lived flame than one that slowly dims and sputters out. As Hafiz memorably puts it, “If the band breaks up, it’s OK. It’s not the end of the world. Fuck, just form another band!”
Fuse
It’s 2023 and Fuse have a new mascot: the butterfly. It’s been seven years since vocalist Dahliah Kamal, inspired by Bikini Kill and the riot grrrl movement, sent Instagram messages to acquaintances and asked if they wanted to form an all-female hardcore band – and six since their buzzy debut demo and three since their emphatic debut album, ‘This Segregation Will End’.
Fuse are embracing the butterfly, a symbol of change and metamorphosis, as they work on a new album that reflects their growth from the motley crew of five teens who wanted to be a youth crew band though they hardly knew how to play their own instruments. “Covid was a really good place for us to stop and chill,” Dahliah (who goes by Dahl) tells NME, “because now that we’ve come back, I feel like everyone grew in a lot of ways.” Adds guitarist Syafiqah Rashid, “We came back with a fresh perspective on how we want to sound like, and it changed our dynamic as a band.”
“This new record doesn’t sound like any other”
On ‘This Segregation Will End’, Fuse were looking outward to social ills, but their new record is more personal. “The songs we are writing now reflect on ourselves as individuals,” says Dahl. “Now we’re hitting the quarter life crisis, we have a lot to think about.” And what are Fuse reflecting on? “I’m trying to establish my own identity as a person, in hardcore and outside of hardcore,” says Syafiqah. “Now I’m more sure of who I am, and I’m grateful I’m able to be myself in the bands I play in.”
Unashamedly omnivorous in its inspirations – from Indonesian emo to pop to older New York hardcore – this new record reflects Fuse’s realisation that their differences are their strength. “We all have different perspectives and input,” Syafiqah says. “That’s the whole process for our new record we’re writing, because everyone’s contributing to the new songs. And this new record doesn’t sound like any other. We feel like we don’t sound like any other band.”
EU/UK JULY 2023
WITH DREGS ,💥❤️✈️🌎 pic.twitter.com/LkLYPdHlIQ— FUSE (@fusehc) March 5, 2023
It’s no wonder Sydney hardcore stars Speed, whom Fuse opened for in Singapore this March, called them “freshness overload”. Fuse will bring that freshness to Europe when they embark on their first-ever tour of the region with the band Dregs in July. Though two members of Fuse, Syafiqah and bassist Hafiza Baisyara, won’t be able to go on the tour, the band still decided to seize the opportunity to play to their fans overseas and to tour the UK, where their label Quality Control HQ is based.
Fuse are keen to tap into a global moment of greater accessibility to hardcore – thanks to live sets on YouTube and social media – and increased open-mindedness about what hardcore can be. “Globally, I think, especially in the US, Europe, UK, they’re more open to listening to bands from Asia,” says Syafiqah. And Fuse are particularly looking forward to expanding conceptions of Asian hardcore by representing Southeast Asia and Singapore. “When Western bands think about Asia, they mainly think just East Asia, like Japan,” says Dahl. “So we’re like, ‘OK, there’s more’.”
Fuse also advocate inclusivity in a bristly, male-dominated scene that can feel daunting to newcomers. “We feel the scene can be intimidating for not only women but also for people of other genders who are shy, or feel they don’t fit into the whole hardcore image,” says Syafiqah. “We like to think we represent all of them,” adds Dahl.
As Fuse see it, Singapore hardcore, after all, needs its people. “It’s definitely a self-run community,” Dahl says. “We rely heavily on people: the people who attend shows, people who have labels, organisers, bands, promoters. We all come hand in hand. Without one, we will fall.”
Doldrey
Aidil Iskandar could not be more different onstage and off. When he and the rest of Doldrey meet NME in a musty jamming studio, he’s all smiles, both reflective and eager to talk about the ‘deathpunk’ band he’s fronted for the past five years. But when he dons fingerless gloves and takes the stage, Aidil seems like a man possessed, growling into the mic when he’s not gleefully riling up the moshpit.
“The whole idea was to play a death metal style, but have our performances be a hardcore punk act,” he says. “All the energy that you get from hardcore punk, infused with the death metal riffs, gels very well.”
It’s a brutal blend that, upon Doldrey’s debut in 2018, didn’t go down so well with some “judgy” quarters of Singapore’s metal scene, recalls drummer Farhan Muhd. But over years of consistent output – not to mention fearsome live performances – Doldrey have earned some respect. “We did the hard work,” says Aidil. “We put out the records, so I guess they’ve got nothing to say.”
“The goal was never to be at the top – the biggest band in Singapore. We just want to be everywhere”
Emerging from the ashes of Zodd, another band with a name inspired by the anime Berserk, Doldrey was founded with the explicit aim of uniting different sounds and scenes. “There’s always different sub-scenes,” Aidil explains. “When there’s a hardcore show only hardcore kids come, punk shows only punk kids and metal shows only metal guys. The whole point of Doldrey is just to bring everyone together.”
It’s a wholesome goal that you wouldn’t necessarily get from Doldrey’s eldritch, devilish imagery nor the hell-for-leather, eardrum-pulverising sound that caught the attention of Iron Lung Records, the label run by the US powerviolence band of the same name. No one member of Doldrey is pushing this dark, destructive aesthetic, says bassist Danish Emran – the band are in “unspoken” agreement about these themes that are a natural consequence of the aggressive music. Aidil, who writes Doldrey’s lyrics, also sometimes treats the metaphorical violence and domination as a vehicle for frustrations with living in a “constricted” society.
Doldrey released their debut album, ‘Celestial Deconstruction’, in 2022 – a year the band pronounce as “humbling”. Between the pressure of putting out a full-length and some “tensions” during its creation, the record had not been easy to make – nor release, thanks to Covid and vinyl production delays.
But the positive reception from listeners at home and abroad was gratifying – especially a three-date tour of Indonesia last November where they met some seriously dedicated fans (like the guy who owned all of Doldrey’s records – and records by all the other bands Doldrey members had played in. They spent an hour signing everything).
So it’s no surprise that Doldrey want to keep touring. “The goal was never to be at the top – the biggest band in Singapore,” says Danish. “We just want to be everywhere.” In July they’ll hit the road in the UK, crossing over into Belgium, Germany and finally the Czech Republic, where they’ll play the final edition of the long-running Fluff Fest, alongside the likes of Scowl and A Place to Bury Strangers. Having supported Power Trip and Candy, among others, Doldrey are also keen to keep playing local shows with international bands they can forge connections and friendships with.
And – of course – Doldrey want to keep putting out music. After a fallow period, they’ve begun to write new material again. “We want to really push ourselves,” Aidil says. “We all have the same mindset of how to do this,” adds Farhan. And Danish has the last word: “We’re lucky enough that all of us are on the same page of wanting to level up every time.”