Regulate - Regulate (LP) - SIlver Vinyl

Long Island hardcore has a knack for turning grit into groove, and Regulate’s self-titled record from 2022 is a sharp example of that tradition getting a fresh coat of paint. Released through Flatspot Records, it’s the kind of album that hits with immediate, pit-ready energy yet slips in detail and personality that sticks around long after the feedback fades.

Regulate have always had bounce in their step, but here the rhythm section really leads the charge. The drums ride a pocket that feels built for moving bodies, then the guitars cut in with riffs that jab and pull without ever getting clumsy. It is a tight record, and it sounds modern without sanding off the attack that makes hardcore tick. You get big, breathless build-ups, sudden half-time drops, and those quick-flick turnarounds that have long been a calling card for New York and Long Island bands. It all lands with clarity, so when the band pivots from a snarling verse into a fluid, almost melodic passage, it feels earned.

Sebastian Paba’s vocals thread it together. He spits in clipped lines, then opens up to something closer to a chant, and every shift carries purpose. His delivery holds a conversational bite that suits the lyrics, which lean into self-reflection and community as much as they rail against the usual villains. Regulate have never been about shock for shock’s sake. There is heart tucked inside the bark, and you can feel it in the way the choruses invite a room to shout back rather than just stand and watch.

“In the Moment” remains a standout and a minor statement of intent. It snaps into gear with a riff that feels built for the first two rows, then stretches into a hook that lodges in your head on the walk home. The song is blunt about presence and purpose, but it never gets preachy. That balance runs through the album. There is muscle, but there is also movement, and the band are happy to flirt with cleaner guitar figures and little rhythmic feints that keep the songs from blurring together. By the time you flip the record and settle into the back half, the pacing has done its job. Peaks and valleys, no dead air.

Context matters with a band like this. Regulate cut their teeth in rooms where you can smell the plywood, and the writing reflects that lived reality. Breakdowns feel functional, not fashionable. The admiration for 90s NYHC is obvious, yet the band sidestep nostalgia by letting more elastic influences creep in. There are flashes of alt-rock swing and even a touch of funk in the bass runs. Nothing that breaks the spell, just enough to suggest a group that cares about groove as much as grit. It makes the record a good entry point for newcomers who found hardcore through festival crossovers, while still rewarding the lifers who want that snap in the snare and a frontperson who looks you dead in the eye.

Sonically the album lands clean, punchy, and loud without squashing dynamics. You can nudge the volume and it blooms rather than turns to mush, which is exactly what you want if you’ve grabbed the LP. The Regulate vinyl pressing on Flatspot has become a bit of a staple in hardcore sections, and with good reason. It is the rare modern hardcore record that suits both a quick needle drop before a show and a proper front-to-back listen when you have time to lean in. If you collect Regulate albums on vinyl, this one earns its spine space, and it plays well alongside labelmates on the shelf.

If you are chasing a copy, most Melbourne record store counters have clocked how quickly this one moves, and you can always buy Regulate records online if your local has sold out. Search for Regulate Regulate vinyl and you will usually find a few variants still floating around shops that specialise in vinyl records Australia wide. However you get it, put it on loud. The mix takes care of the rest.

What lingers after a few spins is the sense of purpose. Regulate sound like a band with an actual point of view, not just a bag of tricks. They make space for vulnerability without going soft, they flirt with melody without losing their snap, and they bring a room together without pandering. In a crowded field, that combination is rare. On this self-titled run they bottle it, and the result feels like the sort of hardcore record you keep within arm’s reach, ready for a midweek jolt or a Saturday clean-out of the lounge room. Call it utility, call it spirit, call it both. Either way, it hits.