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As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

After already having taken forward-thinking extreme music to unprecedented heights over the course of their short but propulsive career, Richmond's INTER ARMA are back with another opus of epic proportions. Like the band's previous works, the new album Paradise Gallows is direct and foreboding while maintaining a nuanced, artful perspective. INTER ARMA's signature palette of dissonant high-end and abyssal low-end has been augmented with swathes of thick, impressionistic melody that lend Paradise Gallows a truly biblical sense of scale, both lyrically and in terms of the album's sonic content. Harsh and acoustic passages (including the band's first-ever foray into clean vocals) spar with complex rhythmic structures across nine sweeping tracks over 71 minutes of expansive, progressive heaviness. Dense, funereal, and richly evocative, Paradise Gallows is a vibrant blend of doom, post-metal, sludge, avant-garde, black and death metal, and is a singular and powerful new addition to the band's already monumental discography. Includes Digital Download

Jónsi releases his latest score, for the new Amazon Original movie Tom Clancy’s Without Remorse, starring Michael B. Jordan, Jodie Turner- Smith and Jamie Bell, directed by Stefano Sollima. The score is 23 tracks of pure action, adrenaline and anxiety.

“For one whole year Jónsi has devoted himself to finding the soul of Without Remorse,” says Sollima. The complexity, sophistication and elegance of his composition adds incredible depth to the story”.

John R. Miller is a true hyphenate artist: singer-songwriter-picker.
Every song on his thrilling debut solo album, ‘Depreciated’, is lush with
intricate wordplay and haunting imagery, as well as being backed by a band
that is on fire.
One of his biggest long-time fans is roots music favourite Tyler Childers, who
says he’s “a well-travelled wordsmith mapping out the world he’s seen, three
chords at a time.” Miller is somehow able to transport us to a shadowy honkytonk and get existential all in the same line with his tightly written compositions. Miller’s own guitar-playing is on fine display here along with vocals that
evoke the white-waters of the Potomac River rumbling below the high ridges
of his native Shenandoah Valley.
‘Depreciated’ is a collection of eleven gems that take us to John R. Miller’s
home place even while exploring the way we can’t go home again, no matter
how much we might ache for it. On the album, Miller says he was eager to combine elements of country, blues, and rock to make his own sound. He wanted
‘Depreciated’ to conjure references to recently lost heroes like Prine, Walker,
and Shaver without sounding derivative.
Miller has certainly achieved his own sound here with an album that is almost
novelistic in its journey not only to the complicated relationship Miller has with
the Shenandoah Valley but also into the mind of someone going through transitions. “I wrote most of these songs after finding myself single and without a
band for the first time in a long while,” Miller says. “I stumbled to Nashville and
started to figure things out, so a lot of these have the feel of closing a chapter.”