EP REVIEW: SIMULACRA BY BAD JUJU

Reviewed by Mz Terra

Melbourne’s Bad Juju aren’t just levelling up — they’re blowing up the basement. Simulacra lands as their darkest, most polished release yet, all bite and distortion with a pulse you can feel in your teeth. Out through Thirty Two Records, it’s produced by Jack Newlyn (Between You & Me, Belle Haven) and mixed by Sam Bassal (Ocean Grove), and you can tell. Every sound’s got that thick, modern crunch, all while the band digs deep into the grime of 90s grunge, 00s nu-metal, and the sharper edges of modern hardcore.

Frontman Russell Holland spits and soars his way through the title track ‘Simulacra’, a warped mirror of identity in a world full of fake filters. The riffs from Abe Miller (guitar) and Armarin Saengsri (guitar) slam down with industrial precision, while Matthew John (bass) and Drue Herring (drums) drive it like a runaway machine. It’s big, cinematic, and uncomfortably human. It’s the sound of someone clawing through the static to find something real.

‘Unwind’ is an anthemic banger that’s an easy listen and will incite singalongs live. It’s got all the things. The punk attitude, neon tones, an emo heart held together with determined resilience.

Then comes ‘Incision (Cut You Out)’, and it’s pure release. A cathartic purge, a clean cut from whatever’s been festering. There’s ache under the aggression. Another killer bridge. An outro that slices then stabs like the lyrics that paint a raw, vindictive and emotionally charged picture of betrayal and confrontation. It totally reeks of Bad Juju defiance that’s becoming their signature sonic ‘tude.

‘Honey’ kicks the door clean off its hinges. Emmy Mack nailed it on triple j Unearthed when she said it “goes off like a Capilano jar filled with napalm.” It’s chaos in a bottle. It’s grungy as hell, sweet on the surface, explosive underneath. The bridge is immense and the hook’s begging for a live scream-along, all flashing lights and sweaty bodies in motion. The 00s came knocking.

‘Sunny Disposition’ follows, the name teasing warmth but the mood dripping cold. There’s this uneasy calm in the lyrical confrontation. The instrumentation makes me feel like I’m standing in sunlight that doesn’t feel right, and low key solo morphs like an acid trip. It’s a moment of relational reflection, a heartbeat of realisation between the flood of chaos. This one is showing how far the band’s come in mastering dynamics and tension.

Closer ‘Sugarcoat’ softens the landing just enough to catch your breath. It’s rocky but smoother, like the last flicker of light before everything fades back to grey. After all that crunch and chaos of the track prior, this one feels like stepping outside post-gig. Your ears left ringing, chest thumping, the night air somehow heavier than before. It’s slick and I reckon while it’s not the strongest on the album it’ll be the slinky ear worm that keeps it on your playlist with the others.

Lyrically, Simulacra dives into the distortion of reality, how everything online feels a little too polished, a little too fake and how hard it is to hold onto something authentic in the middle of it all. Sonically, it’s Bad Juju pushing every dial into the red and still finding melody in the wreckage.

It’s cohesive, sometimes too cohesive, but it hits. Live, these songs are going to absolutely crush. I’ll put my money where my mouth is on that statement. The EP’s a mirror cracked wide open, and we’re all staring into the reflection.