Rawberries’ A Ticket To The Unknown: Punk Rock That Punches You in the Ears (In a Good Way)
If you’re looking for an album that feels like it was recorded in a sweaty basement but mastered with enough finesse to make your ears perk up, Rawberries’ A Ticket To The Unknown is your golden ticket. Released back in 2006 on Pure & Simple Records, this Dutch punk rock gem doesn’t try too hard to be cool—it just is. And honestly? That’s what makes it so damn likable.
Let’s break it down. You’ve got Dick Gordijn holding down the basslines like he’s wrestling alligators, Mark Peterse pounding the drums as if his life depends on it, and guitar wizards Jens Ditters and Jeroen Haverkamp shredding their way into oblivion. Mastered by Alan Douches (you know, the guy who’s worked with everyone from Converge to Mastodon), the sound is raw yet polished—like a diamond found in a dumpster.
Now, onto the tracks. With twelve songs packed into this sucker, there’s plenty to chew on, but two tracks really stuck out to me like mismatched socks at a formal dinner: “Barrel Of A Gun” and “Midnight Ride.”
“Barrel Of A Gun” kicks things off with a riff so sharp it could slice bread. It’s fast, furious, and unapologetically pissed off—the kind of song that makes you wanna punch the air while simultaneously questioning all your life choices. The vocals are snarly, the energy is relentless, and halfway through, I swear my cat gave me a look like, “Are we under attack?” Spoiler alert: We weren’t. Just good ol’ punk vibes doing their thing.
Then there’s “Midnight Ride,” which flips the script slightly. This one has more groove than a disco ball covered in glitter. It’s still got that punk edge, but it leans into something almost anthemic, like a late-night joyride where everything feels both chaotic and perfect. By the time the chorus hits, you’ll find yourself shouting along even though you have no idea what you’re saying. Trust me; it’s cathartic.
Other highlights include “Tear It Apart,” which sounds like someone took anger management classes and failed spectacularly, and “City Tramps,” a gritty ode to urban chaos that somehow manages to feel nostalgic despite being about modern decay. Oh, and let’s not forget “Deja Vu,” because naming a punk song after a French phrase is peak irony.
What’s wild about this album is how it balances chaos with clarity. Sure, the production isn’t overly slick—you can practically hear the sweat dripping off the instruments—but that’s part of its charm. It’s real. No frills, no gimmicks, just four dudes from the Netherlands playing music like their lives depend on it.
So here’s the kicker: Listening to A Ticket To The Unknown made me realize something profound. Punk rock isn’t dead—it’s just hiding in places you wouldn’t expect, like behind a stack of old vinyl records or inside a poorly ventilated rehearsal space in Rotterdam. And hey, maybe that’s exactly where it belongs. After all, some things are better left untamed.
Final verdict? If you dig punk rock with heart, soul, and a side of Dutch irreverence, grab this album. Or don’t. But seriously, do. Because missing out would be like ordering fries and skipping the ketchup—a total rookie move.
