Search:blade attack

Luke Lund is a self-taught producer and sound artist from Finland. Over the past eighteen years, his work has absorbed influences ranging from the darkest fringes of club culture and the most caustic strains of industrial noise, to the subtlety of musique concrète and the rawness of rock.

It all started when he discovered that abstract sound design could stand as music in its own right, a revelation that ignited his enduring commitment to noise, sound art, dub techniques, and experimentation.

“Peel the Scab” emerges from this premise as a visceral and frenetic immersion into his “lo tech” facet, a term the artist himself employs to define the album’s style.

Allergic to programming, these are pure dub-blooded sessions pushed straight to tape, twisted until they yield under their own weight. It is a work constructed upon dense, disjointed rhythms: brutalist grime infused with a suffocating mutation of dub.

Forest Green Vinyl

Seafood Sam is a futuristic artifact. If that description might sound confusing at first, it matches the eclectic dualities found in true originals. With his effortless cool and timeless style, the North Long Beach native defies convention and exact comparison. He's a virtuosic rapper, a stop-you-in-your tracks singer, and a symphonic producer. Welcome to the lavish life of a laid-back transcontinental man of mystery, rolling in old school Cadillacs, eating caviar with a blade in his pocket, and making plays in vintage Pelle Pelle gear. A blaxploitation icon for the Instagram age, blessed with the bars of a `90s legend and 23rd century swagger. Seafood Sam is a true hero of modernity. On his full-length album debut for up-and-coming label drink sum wtr (Kari Faux, Deem Spencer, Aja Monet) debut, Standing on Giant Shoulders, Sam splits the difference between Snoop Dogg and D' Angelo, Curren$y and David Ruffin. The songs reveal a forward-thinking sensibility rooted in ancestral soul. He creates spiritual hymns for the streets that tap into universal ideals and irrepressible groove. In an era plagued by short-term thinking, his ambitions reveal a crate-digging depth of music history and a meticulous ear for detail. The giant shoulders in the album's title refer to James Brown, Bobby Brown, and Miles Davis - the holy trinity who inspired Sam's process. From the Godfather of Soul, Sam took a perfectionist's rigor and focus. The example of Bobby Brown lent an unshakeable confidence and self-belief. While the constant artistic left turns of the trumpeter that birthed Ccool offered an aspirational archetype. The story starts in the glory days of Long Beach hip-hop. As a young child, the G-Funk era soundtracked rides in Sam's father's car. Some of his earliest memories are trying to memorize Snoop's verse on "Nuthin' But a "G" Thang." Beyond gangsta rap, the LBC has historically doubled as a capital of lowrider soul and carwash oldies. At any intersection, you could hear Dogg Food or Brenton Wood, Warren G or Barbara Lynn. This too was absorbed via osmosis. It also just so happened that the art of performance was always in Sam's blood. So at family functions, he and his sister supplied entertainment by singing karaoke renditions of The Isley Brothers. While his Harlem Shake remains a thing of local lore. Long Beach is a culturally diverse mecca of skate parks and gang life, street fashion and tricky dance moves. This is the place that raised Sam on a diet of Wu-Tang and Nelly Furtado, Lil Bow Wow and Allen Iverson. He was the middle ground between his two older brothers: one who gangbanged, the other who graduated with a master's degree from UC-Santa Barbara. But it wasn't until the end of high school that Sam started to take rap seriously. Alongside long-time collaborators like Huey Briss and Reaper Mook, Sam's name began to make waves on the northside of the city, but he was partially distracted by a modeling career that paid the bills and took him all to way to walk in Paris' fashion week. The first turning point arrived with 2018's "Ramsey," a self-produced, slick-talk anthem with over 10,000,000 streams across all platforms. With each subsequent release, Sam showcased his peerless consistency, building buzz both online and in the city streets. Spin hailed his "smooth and unhurried cadences and understated lyricism_ that sounds like nothing else in Long Beach." Clash raved about Sam's "evolution as an artist, cruising through nostalgic production with slick, witty rhymes." The culmination arrives with Standing on Giant Shoulders. It's the evidence of a master, a young sensei in the model of Quincy Jones. All rhymes, singing, production, and arrangements were handled by Sam - with an assist from his close Long Beach kinsman Tom Kendall from the group Soular System. It's hard-edged and lyrical enough for disciples of Larry June and Roc Marciano, but orchestral and melodic enough for fans of Anderson .Paak and H.E.R.

With "Una Lama D'Argento", TENEBRO take their most extreme and visionary step yet: an entire album conceived as a tribute to Dario Argento, the undisputed master of horror, giallo, and thriller cinema. Eleven tracks that are not just songs, but episodes of a single nightmare, a journey through the dark and obsessive atmospheres of the films that shaped cinema history: Deep Red (1975), Suspiria (1977), Inferno (1980), Tenebre (1982), Phenomena (1985), and Opera (1987). TENEBRO translate Argento's universe into sound: riffs sharp as blades, guttural vocals emerging from the darkness, relentless drumming, and atmospheres shifting between pure violence and suffocating tension. Iconic scenes such as the mirror revealing the killer in Deep Red, the brutal mutilation in Tenebre, or the larva-filled bathtub finale in Phenomena are transformed into brutal, immersive sonic attacks, capturing the full horror and tension of the films. As with every album, TENEBRO continue to evolve, introducing new symphonies, styles, and melodies, while remaining distinctly separate from the wider underground scene. Their music explores new horizons without ever betraying the pulsating heart that has always defined their sound: extreme, theatrical, and viscerally horror-driven.

Yellow vinyl. With "Una Lama D'Argento", TENEBRO take their most extreme and visionary step yet: an entire album conceived as a tribute to Dario Argento, the undisputed master of horror, giallo, and thriller cinema. Eleven tracks that are not just songs, but episodes of a single nightmare, a journey through the dark and obsessive atmospheres of the films that shaped cinema history: Deep Red (1975), Suspiria (1977), Inferno (1980), Tenebre (1982), Phenomena (1985), and Opera (1987). TENEBRO translate Argento's universe into sound: riffs sharp as blades, guttural vocals emerging from the darkness, relentless drumming, and atmospheres shifting between pure violence and suffocating tension. Iconic scenes such as the mirror revealing the killer in Deep Red, the brutal mutilation in Tenebre, or the larva-filled bathtub finale in Phenomena are transformed into brutal, immersive sonic attacks, capturing the full horror and tension of the films. As with every album, TENEBRO continue to evolve, introducing new symphonies, styles, and melodies, while remaining distinctly separate from the wider underground scene. Their music explores new horizons without ever betraying the pulsating heart that has always defined their sound: extreme, theatrical, and viscerally horror-driven.

Eight years since the breathtaking Somewhere Anywhere EP, The Mad Walls return to re-ignite psych rock with this gorgeous, floatily heavy, effortlessly groovy and sublimely sinuous debut LP. Driven by bone shaking acoustic guitar, visceral drums, wonderfully trippy basslines and the throwaway perfection of Christopher Mercado’s spooked vocals. Pure rock n’ roll yet devoid of cliché. Informed by, but no way in hock to, early MC5, Skip Spence, Sonic Youth, Syd Barrett and Jefferson Airplane when they still all lived together.
Recorded on tape in Mercado’s garage, there’s a DIY heart with epic results across sixteen songs. Only one track over three minutes and some under thirty seconds. “It’s just chatter about life and human feelings. Stylized human expression”. - Is Christopher's self effacing explanation of his mind bending, playful, storytelling. It opens with the walloping drum canter/bass attack of WHO WANTS TO DIE FOR RELIGION. Passes through the furious distorted acoustic guitar solo on I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL. The woozy, elastic time-stretching of COOL TRIPPER. The brief, funky lurch of IN YOUR DREAM YOU ARE NO ONE. The almost lush, cinematic SEVEN DAYS which conjures Serge Gainsbourg by way of Moby Grape. HIP COMMA’s floaty strut and the groovy raga of MAKA THE NATIVE, which has not one but two ‘breath solos’. CLOUDS OF DUST is a skeletal Krautrock fragment and THERE ONLY IS a luminous psych-pop single. Final track APPLES ends the album with a sinewy twelve bar blues and a killer psych guitar break. Bliss.
Somehow the MAD WALLS manage woozily florid and sharp as a blade. Studiedly detailed but effortless. Whip smart and dumb. And as we said at the start - just gorgeous…

Eight years since the breathtaking Somewhere Anywhere EP, The Mad Walls return to re-ignite psych rock with this gorgeous, floatily heavy, effortlessly groovy and sublimely sinuous debut LP. Driven by bone shaking acoustic guitar, visceral drums, wonderfully trippy basslines and the throwaway perfection of Christopher Mercado’s spooked vocals. Pure rock n’ roll yet devoid of cliché. Informed by, but no way in hock to, early MC5, Skip Spence, Sonic Youth, Syd Barrett and Jefferson Airplane when they still all lived together.
Recorded on tape in Mercado’s garage, there’s a DIY heart with epic results across sixteen songs. Only one track over three minutes and some under thirty seconds. “It’s just chatter about life and human feelings. Stylized human expression”. - Is Christopher's self effacing explanation of his mind bending, playful, storytelling. It opens with the walloping drum canter/bass attack of WHO WANTS TO DIE FOR RELIGION. Passes through the furious distorted acoustic guitar solo on I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL. The woozy, elastic time-stretching of COOL TRIPPER. The brief, funky lurch of IN YOUR DREAM YOU ARE NO ONE. The almost lush, cinematic SEVEN DAYS which conjures Serge Gainsbourg by way of Moby Grape. HIP COMMA’s floaty strut and the groovy raga of MAKA THE NATIVE, which has not one but two ‘breath solos’. CLOUDS OF DUST is a skeletal Krautrock fragment and THERE ONLY IS a luminous psych-pop single. Final track APPLES ends the album with a sinewy twelve bar blues and a killer psych guitar break. Bliss.
Somehow the MAD WALLS manage woozily florid and sharp as a blade. Studiedly detailed but effortless. Whip smart and dumb. And as we said at the start - just gorgeous…

Seafood Sam is a futuristic artifact. If that description might sound confusing at first, it matches the eclectic dualities found in true originals. With his effortless cool and timeless style, the North Long Beach native defies convention and exact comparison. He's a virtuosic rapper, a stop-you-in-your tracks singer, and a symphonic producer. Welcome to the lavish life of a laid-back transcontinental man of mystery, rolling in old school Cadillacs, eating caviar with a blade in his pocket, and making plays in vintage Pelle Pelle gear. A blaxploitation icon for the Instagram age, blessed with the bars of a `90s legend and 23rd century swagger. Seafood Sam is a true hero of modernity. On his full-length album debut for up-and-coming label drink sum wtr (Kari Faux, Deem Spencer, Aja Monet) debut, Standing on Giant Shoulders, Sam splits the difference between Snoop Dogg and D' Angelo, Curren$y and David Ruffin. The songs reveal a forward-thinking sensibility rooted in ancestral soul. He creates spiritual hymns for the streets that tap into universal ideals and irrepressible groove. In an era plagued by short-term thinking, his ambitions reveal a crate-digging depth of music history and a meticulous ear for detail. The giant shoulders in the album's title refer to James Brown, Bobby Brown, and Miles Davis - the holy trinity who inspired Sam's process. From the Godfather of Soul, Sam took a perfectionist's rigor and focus. The example of Bobby Brown lent an unshakeable confidence and self-belief. While the constant artistic left turns of the trumpeter that birthed Ccool offered an aspirational archetype. The story starts in the glory days of Long Beach hip-hop. As a young child, the G-Funk era soundtracked rides in Sam's father's car. Some of his earliest memories are trying to memorize Snoop's verse on "Nuthin' But a "G" Thang." Beyond gangsta rap, the LBC has historically doubled as a capital of lowrider soul and carwash oldies. At any intersection, you could hear Dogg Food or Brenton Wood, Warren G or Barbara Lynn. This too was absorbed via osmosis. It also just so happened that the art of performance was always in Sam's blood. So at family functions, he and his sister supplied entertainment by singing karaoke renditions of The Isley Brothers. While his Harlem Shake remains a thing of local lore. Long Beach is a culturally diverse mecca of skate parks and gang life, street fashion and tricky dance moves. This is the place that raised Sam on a diet of Wu-Tang and Nelly Furtado, Lil Bow Wow and Allen Iverson. He was the middle ground between his two older brothers: one who gangbanged, the other who graduated with a master's degree from UC-Santa Barbara. But it wasn't until the end of high school that Sam started to take rap seriously. Alongside long-time collaborators like Huey Briss and Reaper Mook, Sam's name began to make waves on the northside of the city, but he was partially distracted by a modeling career that paid the bills and took him all to way to walk in Paris' fashion week. The first turning point arrived with 2018's "Ramsey," a self-produced, slick-talk anthem with over 10,000,000 streams across all platforms. With each subsequent release, Sam showcased his peerless consistency, building buzz both online and in the city streets. Spin hailed his "smooth and unhurried cadences and understated lyricism_ that sounds like nothing else in Long Beach." Clash raved about Sam's "evolution as an artist, cruising through nostalgic production with slick, witty rhymes." The culmination arrives with Standing on Giant Shoulders. It's the evidence of a master, a young sensei in the model of Quincy Jones. All rhymes, singing, production, and arrangements were handled by Sam - with an assist from his close Long Beach kinsman Tom Kendall from the group Soular System. It's hard-edged and lyrical enough for disciples of Larry June and Roc Marciano, but orchestral and melodic enough for fans of Anderson .Paak and H.E.R.

Dire Straits' arresting self-titled debut arrived in the midst of punk's reign but couldn't have been further removed from the era's slash-and-burn style. Recorded in West London in February 1978, the band's tasteful, jazz-inflected set embraces folk, blues, and pub rock while also tracing a direct line back to the beat-oriented sound of early rock n' roll. Country and roots accents further distinguish the British quartet's stripped-down music from any 1970s peers, as does the transparent production, which has remained revered among audiophiles the world over – and which has never been better than on this meticulous pressing.

Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI, Mobile Fidelity's 180g 45RPM 2LP version of Dire Straits features natural tonalities, superb balances, you-are-there imaging, deep-black backgrounds, and pristine clarity. Even if you've heard this album hundreds of times before, you've never experienced it with such lifelike sonics and premium richness. This numbered-edition collector's set immerses you within the smoky, laidback atmospherics of every song. This is how all vinyl should sound.

Crucial to every arrangement, Mark Knopfler's winding guitar lines emerge with supreme transparency and multi-hued textural detail. His intricate playing comes across as if it's being transmitted via his 60s-era Fender Vibrolux amplifier placed right before you. The cleanliness, dimensions, and live feel are that good. His bandmates, too, benefit from the extra groove space afforded by this 45RPM edition. Rhythms skate and swirl; percussive effects resonate with crispness and attack; the leading edges of notes naturally decay.

Dire Straits' strong, well-edited batch of original material further enhances the overall enjoyment and makes the record one whose pleasures go far beyond the organic sonics. Just as Knopfler's narratives pour forth with poetic and surrealist texts, the musical settings – an intoxicating combination of easygoing shuffles, back-hall boogies, and pop-honed ballads – mirror the old-fashioned soulfulness inherent in the classic recordings of the late 50s and early 60s. The lyrics are equally captivating.

Drawing from his time as a youth in Newcastle, Leeds, and London, Knopfler invests tunes with an autobiographical slant and emotional connectivity that become obvious the moment he opens his mouth to sing. "Down to the Waterline," "Wild West End," and "Lions" all feature colloquial touches that add to their reach. By extension, "In the Gallery" functions as a tribute to Leeds sculptor Harry Phillips (father of future Knoplfer collaborator, Steve Phillips) while the record's breakout smash, "Sultans of Swing," pays homage to struggling bar bands.


Through it all, Dire Straits performs with a subtle cool and clever poise that no band ever matched. Just how good is the chemistry? Bob Dylan heard the quartet and invited Knopfler and drummer Pick Withers to play on Slow Train Coming. But even Dylan himself didn't hear Dire Straits sound this magnetic back in its original heyday. Now, everyone can.

Farron enters faster territories on this record, telling the story of the hunt after the mysterious jade antique that is hidden in the infamous 'House Of Traps'.

After entering the house, one already feels the oppressive atmosphere. The ubiquitous feeling of not being welcome here is obvious when the golden walls invert and you come to face countless swordsmen ready to attack. The vigorous atmosphere of 'Penny At The Chain' boosts up your confidence for what is about to come.

But what if the intruder is skilled in kung-fu? The mob retreats automatically and bars of iron come down to confine you. 'Wilshire 1015' and its driving bassline, warm pads and whirling breaks will calm you down a bit. But what's next?

In the twinkling of an eye, a field of razor-sharp nails come through the floor that you are standing on, and the escape route up the stairway becomes perilous as the stairs suddenly form into an array of sharp blades. 'Hiatus Phase' keeps you focused and light-footed, so you can manage the jump up to the next floor.

However the next stirring event quickly follows. The moment you feel safe, a giant golden net unexpectedly launches from every direction and traps you in the middle of the room, hung over the floor. As if this wasn't enough, the mob is rushing back again - armed with bows and arrows. But the varied atmosphere of 'All In CST', its floating pads and filtered breaks energize you, and so you are able to make a getaway from the most lethal attack.

After dodging the giant blades suddenly swinging in from each side, you are finally there. The golden cage and its arcane content. The warmth of 'Conback' and its sparkling pads slowly fill the room as you open up the cage. Another trap, or a bright future? Find out...

For the first time ever, here is the soundtrack from the 1983 post-apocalyptic flick directed by Joe D'Amato, Endgame - Bronx Lotta Finale. A compelling Carlo Maria Cordio's mighty Vangelis-meets-John Carpenter score. With hangovers from previous Giallo-based outings, Endgame's themes are more gentle and introspective than, say, Claudio Simonetti's muscular work for The New Barbarians and Hands of Steel but also, arguably, musically more diverse. In particular, the opening title track 'Atomic Contamination" is genuinely chilling when set against the stock footage of a nuclear bomb going off.

While liberally pinching the vibe of Blade Runner's more symphonic textures, Cordio's synthesizers also do bombast, melancholy and menace when required, whilst the pretty pieces for Lilith are like semi precious jewels shining out of the murk and machismo.

Formed in 1983, Hallows Eve was a thrash metal band hailing from Atlanta, GA, whose first brush with notoriety came via the inclusion of their song Metal Merchants” in the Metal Massacre, Vol. 6 compilation two years later. Duly signed by the collection’s parent label, Metal Blade, the group, comprised of vocalist Stacy Anderson, guitarists David Stuart and Steve “Skullator” Shoemaker, bassist Tommy Stewart, and drummer Ronny Appoldt, released their debut album, Tales of Terror, later the same year and then followed it with two more discs (1986′s Death & Insanity and 1988′s Monument).

Formed in 1983, Hallows Eve was a thrash metal band hailing from Atlanta, GA, whose first brush with notoriety came via the inclusion of their song Metal Merchants" in the Metal Massacre, Vol. 6 compilation two years later. Duly signed by the collection's parent label, Metal Blade, the group, comprised of vocalist Stacy Anderson, guitarists David Stuart and Steve "Skullator" Shoemaker, bassist Tommy Stewart, and drummer Ronny Appoldt, released their debut album, Tales of Terror, later the same year and then followed it with two more discs (1986's Death & Insanity and 1988's Monument). By 1989, the band had folded but eventually re-formed in 2004 with plans to record a new, as yet unreleased, effort. - Eduardo Rivadavia (All Music Guide)

One can’t overstate the size of the Fear Factory boot print on the neck of heavy metal. Unleashing influential albums with devastating anthems for over 30 years, Fear Factory is widely recognized as both crucial and innovative in extreme metal circles. Fear Factory manufactured, demanufactured, and remanufactured a sound that reverberates across several subgenres. They perfected an explosive blend of staccato paint-stripping riffs, industrial-tinged drums, electronic flourishes, and a scream/sing dichotomy, all of which became staples in heavy music, ever since the group first emerged in L.A.

Fear Factory headline major festivals; earned several awards from the international sales charts; toured with Black Sabbath, Slayer, Iron Maiden, and Metallica; and influenced generations of bands. But it’s the group’s commitment to unrelenting extremity and creative authenticity which ensured its place in heavy metal history, from the highly-revered Demanufacture to the similarly dominating Genexus. Songs like “Zero Signal,” “Shock,” and “Fear Campaign” are instantly recognizable anthems, as much a part of the musical DNA of modern metal subculture as the riffs and scream/sing style within them.

Fear Factory records are cinematic in scope; sonic landscapes, echoing the dystopian post-apocalyptic futures found in classic sci-fi literature and films, from Ray Bradbury to Blade Runner. Aggression Continuum, the tenth studio album, is the culmination of three decades of unforgettable songs, performances, and forward-thinking storytelling concepts, while simultaneously rebooting Fear Factory onto a brilliant and excitingly unpredictable new path. Like the liquid metal T-1000 in the Terminator franchise or the Academy-Award winning reboot of Mad Max, Aggression Continuum is a turning point where what “was” transforms into what will be. It’s Fear Factory’s own Fury Road.

Aggression Continuum boasts the definitive attack of songs like “Recode,” “Distruptor,” and “Purity.” The riffs, concepts, and passion remain strong, as Fear Factory celebrates its past, present, and future. Whatever may come, Fear Factory will be there, a soundtrack to humankind’s uncertain times ahead.

Second Album of Gaznevada originnally released in 1980...Disordine re-issue , 2019 official license from Italian Records.