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The World is On Fire is Collier’s observation journal reflecting on the tumultuous period from before the pandemic to the present day. The title itself wields his lens on vile acts committed by those in power addressing themes of economic upheaval, systemic racism, and the relentless fight for justice. The album is the final body of work with his quartet, The Chosen Few, marking the closing chapter of the group’s 8-year journey. The World is On Fire is Collier’s observation journal reflecting on the tumultuous period from before the pandemic to the present day. The title itself wields his lens on vile acts committed by those in power addressing themes of economic upheaval, systemic racism, and the relentless fight for justice. The potency of Collier’s compositions is reinforced by utilizing harrowing real-life news clips throughout the album that radiate the urgency, somberness, and turmoil during this time in history as the album as a whole serves as a requiem for countless lives lost and injustices that remain unacknowledged. The World Is On Fire showcases Collier’s fiery approach as a bandleader with tightly focused solos on both Alto and Tenor Saxophone, that are interwoven with the other musicians. As The Chosen Few prepare for their curtain call, The World is On Fire is a final offering that is more than a collection of songs—it’s a passionate plea for awareness, understanding, and change. Through the journey of sound and reflection, Collier urges us all to play a role in crafting a more just and equitable world.

Clothilde’s new album sounds like a constant departure from almost everything. Up until now, her music pieces seemed uncontrolled, a total commitment to the machines. She was, somehow, in between us - listener, audience - and the idea of a machine producing sounds she doesn’t seem to control. Of course, none of this was entirely true, she was mostly in control, but the fantasy, the orchestration of it was beautiful. It was sci-fi-ish, Metropolis-magnificent.

In “Cross Sections” everything is purposely under control. We feel, without being told, that Clothilde is directing the narrative, inviting us to partake of this raw and austere electronic sound, forcing us to learn to enjoy it. This is new. Whereas before she would expect you to stay put and listen, eventually you would understand and give in. Or your body would. Now she is telling you to be there, she doesn’t want to be alone, she wants us to feel this subterranean urgency at all costs.

The real eureka moment comes with “Medullary Rays”, when we start cohabiting with the sounds, when they feel familiar. The darkness becomes real; it is palpable how she is stretching each sound and making them come to life at every moment. It is violent, brutal. Like every track, it's a relief when it ends, it's like coming out of a car crash alive. Much of the A side of is Clothilde pushing the boundaries of her sound. She is not testing but finding new ground and sharing it with us. She is exorcising, demolishing and building over and over again, she is crying and screaming, dozing off with the demential levels of bass, making us constantly listen to alarm bells. She is scaring the shit out of us.

The B side keeps the levels of anxiety high up, especially on the 13-minute “Ring”. Surrealistic drones come and go, every second sounds like the end of something, the accumulation of tension is torrential and it never, never stops. We hope there is a conclusion to this. But there is not. “Cross Sections” builds and feeds on this darkness but, in a way, it is self-contained. Never explodes, never releases itself from itself. It is a continuous process of catharsis that it is never over. It never aims to be. Like, you know, life itself.

We've all been there. It feels familiar. Now it has a sound, or sounds. It can be heard and it is outer dimensional. “Cross Sections” is a tremendous effort from an artist trying to survive something. You never know what is. You don’t need to know what it is. It is just there. Cliché but it has to be said: highest possible volume on this one.

Born Xavier Amin Dphrepaulezz, by now much has been made of Fantastic Negrito's own unique story--his early years growing up in an orthodox Muslim household, the doomed major label deal that turned him off of the music industry altogether, the near-fatal car crash that permanently damaged his guitar playing hand--as well as the remarkable redemption arc that began in 2015, when he won the first ever NPR Tiny Desk Contest. In the years that followed, Negrito would go on to take home three consecutive GRAMMY Awards for Best Contemporary Blues Album, tour with everyone from Sturgill Simpson to Chris Cornell to Bruce Springsteen, collaborate in the studio with the likes of Sting and E-40, launch his own Storefront Records label, perform at Lollapalooza, WOMAD, Glastonbury, Newport Folk, Byron Bay Blues, and nearly every other major festival on the map, and found the Revolution Plantation, an urban farm aimed at youth education and empowerment. Son of a Broken Man sees Fantastic Negrito encapsulating the inimitable elements of his celebrated body of work to date, from hard-hitting distorted guitar riffs to melodic and expressive ballads, all fueled by the unexpected twists that have become his trademark. The album stands as perhaps Fantastic Negrito's most personal thus far, exploring family, deception, and the human desire to hide the true self as he dives deep into one of the oldest conflicts in human history, the struggle between father and son. Beginning at a young age, Negrito was served untruths by his father. A made-up last name, a fabricated ancestry, and a fake Somali accent. Why lie? Why create this false narrative? Those are the questions Negrito had to ask himself and the questions that lie at the heart of Son of a Broken Man.

Plastic Crimewave Syndicate returns with one collective foot in overdriven space-biker scuzz rock, but the other bigfoot kicking upward into new galaxies of synth punk, no-prog, and freek funk. Yes, dare we say it, the new PCWS LP, Tales From the Golden Skull, GROOVES--but from the perspective of the Japan n' Kraut/Eurorock undergrounds, coated in some nasty Windy City grime. Aided by the Chicago Cosmonaut Couriers Crew, ala famed renaissance man Mac Blackout (synths/horns/electronics), Przemyslaw Krys Drazek (trumpet) of longtime zone-jammers Drazek Fuscaldo/Mako Sica, Will MacLean on Moog keytar (!-- of local Silver vocoder-ed Apples lovin' treasures Protovulcan), plus the oldest-school synthlord Bil Vermette, who's been modulating since the 70s. We'll call Tales From the Golden Skull a near-concept lp (aren't they always?) that looks back at fallen friends and collaborators, and then into the unwritten golden future (as PCW himself hit the golden 50). The sonic journey dips into dark textural valleys, and chugging riffs rising to thee fiery heavens, as the thundering-but-subtle rhythm section of Jose "Beast but Best" Bernal and Rob "Dead Feathers" Rodak know when to crash and when to burn (one). Sir PCW lays down his trademark big muff-blastage and echo-cries, to channel the despair and feral bark of the mighty Vega/Hammill/Iggy/Dickie P/Haino/Mojo-Risin/Mizutani, but also knows when to shut up for some layered instrumental Embryo/Harvester/Fausty trance rock and dabbed/dubbed out "not-quite-shoegazin" calmness in the eye of the Ur-storm. This might be the most expansive, detailed yet furious PCWS LP yet, recorded at Rec Room studios with Eric Block, who has done all from a band with Sonic Youth's Steve Shelley to recorded Rhys Chatham 100+-peeps guitar orchestras. So strap the headphones on and absorb the tales of this spaced ritual-rock opus. Artwork - Steve Krakow

This self-titled LP marks the fifth release of Scottish artist Murray Collier’s Dip Friso project, his longest running alias and the solitary vanguard of his own Real Landscape imprint. Across the six tracks he delivers another collection of warped percussive loops, heavily manipulated guitar work and psychedelic sound experiments that drift between popular music forms ('I’ll Get to Hiding') and whittled down takes on electric blues and shoegaze ('Another Country’). The former features the instantly recognisable croon of Still House Plants vocalist Jess HK embellishing a backdrop of tape loop alchemy, an inspired pairing given the shared history of Glasgow dwelling. ‘Thin Ayrshire’ (written with Hannan Jones) treads a similar path with Collier’s own beyond-unrecognisable voice featuring, broken suddenly by a brief flash of 12th Isle’s Loris S. Sarid & Innis Chonnel’s ‘Spalted Water Portal’ thanks to a recycled tape spool. ‘A Sorry Business’ takes on avant-jazz inspired puddle skronk, a stunted casio bleep propelling forward guitar dirge and cymbal crashes, whilst Australian minimal wave heroes The Systematics are paid homage via a farewell cover of their track ‘Midnight on Balancing Day’ (here ‘Midnight’).

All in, the album sees the project incorporating more instrumentation and a full use of vocalists, leaning less heavily on gauzy sample collage styles and providing a more introspective look at the hazy, dubwise world Collier has been building for the past half a decade.

Lemonheads’ seminal album ‘It’s A Shame About Ray’, lovingly reissued for it’s 30th Anniversary. The long overdue reissue includes a slew of extra material, including an unreleased ‘My Drug Buddy’ KCRW session track from 1992 featuring Juliana Hatfield, B-sides from singles ‘It’s A Shame About Ray’ and ‘Confetti’, a track from the ‘Mrs. Robinson/Being Round’ EP, alongside demos that will be released for the first time on vinyl. This reissue celebrates their prestigious fifth album, these deluxe bookback editions feature new liner notes and unseen photos.

Described by music journalist and author Everett True as “A 30-minute insight into what it’s like to live hard and fast and loose and happy with like-minded buddies, fuelled by a shared love for similar bands and drugs and booze and freedom.”. ‘It's A Shame About Ray’ had a considerable impact back in those heady, carefree days of '92, the record perfectly captures Dando’s ability to effortlessly encapsulate teenage longing and lust over the course of a two-minute pop song.

Singles such as 'My Drug Buddy' and the breezy perfect pop of the title track might stand out (plus the add-on of 'Mrs. Robinson' which later copies included), but the album's real strength lies in the tracks in-between; the truly fantastic 'Confetti' (written about Evan's parents' divorce), and the eye-wateringly casual acoustic cover of 'Frank Mills' (from the "hippie" musical Hair), a version that seems to resonate with every ounce of pathos and emotion felt for the lost 1960s generation. To hear Evan Dando sing lines like 'I love him/but it embarrasses me/To walk down the street with him/He lives in Brooklyn somewhere/And he wears his white crash helmet' is to truly appreciate how wonderful and tantalising pop music can be. Then, there's the rush of insurgency and brattishness on the wonderfully truncated 'Bit Part'; the topsy-turvy 'Ceiling Fan In My Spoon'... this was male teenage skinny-tie pop music on a level of brilliance with The Kinks, early Undertones, Wipers.

Shir Khan marks the 37th release on his infamous Black Jukebox imprint with an all-killer balearic house record courtesy of mysterious Cécille-affiliated Cabin Luv Affair hot on the heels of his debut album which has seen support from Fouk, Laurent Garnier, Jamie Jones, Mr. V and Archie Hamilton.

Here, the masked master lays out 4 convivial cuts that sit in a particular pocket between House and Disco; one that has historically been occupied by the likes of Pepe Bradock, Damiano Von Eckert and Andrés. A spot classically characterised by beautifully imperfect, sample-heavy productions that are shot through with palpable depth and soul.

The record sets sail with ’Te Siento’. Polyrhythmic percussion bubbles across the surface of a deep sonic pool that forms a bed for vivacious drums, romantic vocals and a spine-tingling strings riff. A hazy opening clears out before the backbone of recording shines through; an uplifting 90s piano motif that's later picked up by Xylophone tones while a tight, truncated bass line punches away at the track's core.

'Dance With Us' then rolls out a beautifully seductive mood. Softly shifting synth chords, a loose-limbed drum break and hedonic vocals whip up a hot and heavy vibe that shines with a distinctly Chicago-tinged elegance.

'Time Is Killing Us' follows up with an immaculately executed, 'last tune' House groove. A gentle but powerful euphoria is generated with swooning strings, more giddy piano riffs and another robust drum track that all gather momentum as progress rolls on. An ecstasy-crescendo forms before it crashes and fizzles before the lights go on.

'My Head Like Shibuya Crossing' then follows up with a tightly-knitted Deep House cut. Buttery melodies adorn an effortlessly kinetic bass groove before a delicate Japanese vocal bleeds into focus. As is the case with much of the record, the track graciously segues through its chapters with melody at the fore-front before bringing the record to a conclusion.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

***BACK IN STOCK ON ORANGE CREAM VINYL!!!

On Fire is widely recognized as the canonic pinnacle of Galaxie 500's career. The artwork conveys this, with a low-angle shot of the band, looking up towards an amber sky. This record marked the realization of their signature sound. Nowhere is it clearer than on the album opener, "Blue Thunder," the closest a song can come to waves crashing on a beach in song form. Lyrically inconsequential, with a chorus composed entirely of "la"s, the track's power lies in a systematic build and break of intensity that reaches a Spector-like climax. It is the quintessential Galaxie 500 song, encapsulating all that was great about the band. With the Boston trio once again utilizing the bizarre genius of producer Mark Kramer, On Fire sounds like anything but. The guitars are warm blankets enwrapping Dean Wareham's vocals, percolated by the open percussion of Damon Krukowski and anchored by the emotion-laden bass of Naomi Yang. Songs like "Snowstorm," "Strange," and "Decomposing Trees" have an endless quality, without beginnings or ends, but rather frozen somewhere on a spectrum of melancholy. For the first time since its original pressing, On Fire is available again on vinyl. Cut by vinyl ace Kevin Gray from a remaster by Kramer and Alan Douches, the album sounds more vibrant than ever, and Galaxie 500 exists again as one of the most enrapturing and glorious bands to emerge from the underground in the past 25 years.

SITW’s fourth studio album is a satirical celebration of mistakes. A joyous lambasting of everyone and everything that’s wrong in the world, against the real-time backdrop of global uncertainty, corruption and political unrest.

A London Charivari. Rough Music. A gleeful old-fashioned cancelling. A Chaunter’s delight. 14th Century recording demons collecting mistakes in a sack. Women mugging rich merchants. Nettles being pissed on. Shit food at Lent. A terrible plan. An undoing. The aftermath of a car crash. Catching people doing something they shouldn’t. Nursery rhymes reimagined as death threats. Behind the sarcastic acerbic delivery, Nicola Kearey and Ian Carter convey thoughtful, essential interpretations encouraging us all to check ourselves, through the multi-layered music of cities through time.

This is about as far away from pastoral folk music as you can get.

In their typical wry city-weary style, a beady eye is cast over those committing wrongs in plain sight, with Kearey narrating a series of tales of people fucking up, or being fucked up, with some brief respite in Lavender - one of London’s oldest street melodies - the album being named after the 14th Century story of Tittivilus, the recording demon, who collects scribes’ mistakes (pokes) and the idle chatter of the “liars with their hairy tongues” congregation.

Despite this seriousness, the album’s working-class dry gallows humour carries a stoic “if you don’t laugh you’ll cry” feeling amongst the corruption, scandals and barefaced lies we all observe on a daily basis, with a warning that “only you can fix your deficits” and “it’s your words and deeds that matter…and let me tell you, they speak volumes”.

The core of the record imagines a sound of traditional London music, where the musical continuum is unbroken by the population decimated by the world wars, or by gentrification and social cleansing that has forced communities apart, and yet absorbs all the influences of all the communities that call London their home.

Carter and Kearey attempted sessions at The George Tavern, Whitechapel, and in Spitalfields, at Denis Severs’ House, and a restored weaver’s townhouse, carrying the aesthetic of the record in their heads as they moved from location to location, before settling into an old factory building and their own workshop. The resulting sparse and economical sound is harsher, more present, more essentially them. It is a mighty haranguing that demands your attention.

The deluxe edition of Ministry's "Twitch" highlights their early industrial sound with tracks like "Just Like You" and "Over The Shoulder." It includes remixes and extended versions such as "All Day Remix" and "Over The Shoulder (12” Version)." This edition offers a deeper dive into the band's innovative and brooding style.

Aufgepasst, hier kommt nicht einfach "nur" ein neues Album, sondern eine Hommage an den wilden 80er Oi! und Streetpunk-Underground der etwas anderen Art: Sunny Bastards proudly presents: "BELIN EI PIAZII" der legendären, italienischen Kultband KLASSE KRIMINALE! 1980 von Marco Belestrino gegründet, haben sich die Italiener genau mit dieser Ära und den Wurzeln der italienisch-europäischen Skinhead- und Punkbewegung auf ihrer neuen Scheibe befasst und 15 "lost songs" von berühmt-berüchtigten oder heute nur noch wenigen geläufigen Bands neu eingespielt: Rohe Diamanten, Spaß, kämpferische Rebellion- und Hass-Hymnen sowie obskure Beiträge von Bands, wie den Herberts, Total Crash, Gangland oder Shellshock, die zusammen mit Klasse Kriminale damals die Strassen unsicher gemacht haben und im Proberaum oder auf DIY-Konzerten schnell zum Soundtrack einer rebellischen Jugend wurden. Klasse Kriminale hat diese bislang nie veröffentlichten Songs ganz im Spirit und Stil dieser Anfangstage aufgenommen und verbinden mit dieser Zeit jede Menge Erinnerungen, die auf 4 Seiten im Inlay-Sheet in englisch und italienisch auch sehr persönlich beschrieben werden! Und wenn vom Plattenteller dazu noch Lieder wie "Ziga Zaga Oi! Oi! Oi!" oder "Skin della Lanterna" die Boxen beschallen, kann man nicht nur erahnen, wie es damals war...großartige Konzeptscheibe, inkl einem neu eingespielten eigenen Song "Keep the Faith", der uns wieder ins Jetzt und Hier beamt und ein würdiger Abschluss des Albums ist! Vinyl klassich schwarz oder clear mit der italienischen Tricolore als Splatter plus zwei Inserts

Aufgepasst, hier kommt nicht einfach "nur" ein neues Album, sondern eine Hommage an den wilden 80er Oi! und Streetpunk-Underground der etwas anderen Art: Sunny Bastards proudly presents: "BELIN EI PIAZII" der legendären, italienischen Kultband KLASSE KRIMINALE! 1980 von Marco Belestrino gegründet, haben sich die Italiener genau mit dieser Ära und den Wurzeln der italienisch-europäischen Skinhead- und Punkbewegung auf ihrer neuen Scheibe befasst und 15 "lost songs" von berühmt-berüchtigten oder heute nur noch wenigen geläufigen Bands neu eingespielt: Rohe Diamanten, Spaß, kämpferische Rebellion- und Hass-Hymnen sowie obskure Beiträge von Bands, wie den Herberts, Total Crash, Gangland oder Shellshock, die zusammen mit Klasse Kriminale damals die Strassen unsicher gemacht haben und im Proberaum oder auf DIY-Konzerten schnell zum Soundtrack einer rebellischen Jugend wurden. Klasse Kriminale hat diese bislang nie veröffentlichten Songs ganz im Spirit und Stil dieser Anfangstage aufgenommen und verbinden mit dieser Zeit jede Menge Erinnerungen, die auf 4 Seiten im Inlay-Sheet in englisch und italienisch auch sehr persönlich beschrieben werden! Und wenn vom Plattenteller dazu noch Lieder wie "Ziga Zaga Oi! Oi! Oi!" oder "Skin della Lanterna" die Boxen beschallen, kann man nicht nur erahnen, wie es damals war...großartige Konzeptscheibe, inkl einem neu eingespielten eigenen Song "Keep the Faith", der uns wieder ins Jetzt und Hier beamt und ein würdiger Abschluss des Albums ist! Vinyl klassich schwarz oder clear mit der italienischen Tricolore als Splatter plus zwei Inserts

Die schwedischen Groove-Metal-Legenden Transport League melden sich ihrem explosiven neuen Album 'We Are Satan's People' zurück! Auf ihrem 11. Studioalbum besinnen sie sich tief auf ihre Wurzeln und entfesseln einen Sound, der sowohl nostalgisch als auch ungemein modern ist. 'We Are Satan's People' ist absolutes Must Have für alle Fans von Pantera, Clutch, COC, Mustasch, White Zombie oder Prong.

Die schwedischen Groove-Metal-Legenden Transport League melden sich ihrem explosiven neuen Album 'We Are Satan's People' zurück! Auf ihrem 11. Studioalbum besinnen sie sich tief auf ihre Wurzeln und entfesseln einen Sound, der sowohl nostalgisch als auch ungemein modern ist. 'We Are Satan's People' ist absolutes Must Have für alle Fans von Pantera, Clutch, COC, Mustasch, White Zombie oder Prong.

The sophomore effort from Gray/Smith refines their petroleum-based, hard-lullaby sound with a decidedly dusty precision. To call this pair's brand of country-rock détournement "cosmic" would be too breezy: L. Gray and Rob Smith prefer to stare into sunken depths, channeling their recondite affections for lay-by mauve zones and red-dirt guitar wanderings. Formed in the outer-edges of Kings and Richmond counties circa 2020, Gray/Smith is something of an East-Coast involution. L. Gray (guitar and vocals) and Rob Smith (drums, guitar and vocals) are both trusty veterans of "band's bands" like Pigeons (Soft Abuse), No-Neck Blues Band (Revenant, Locust), Rhyton (Thrill Jockey), and The Suntanama (Drag City), freewheeling groups known for mining from polyglot sources: rough-hewn folk and the spiritual avant-garde, bargain-bin hard rock and and collector's-choice psychedelia alike. On their first, self-released LP Gray/Smith, serendipitously recorded at Gary's Electric at the top of 2021, the pair trained their assured chops onto the great American song-form, honing a murky but tight approach that variously cribs "urban cowboy" and finger-picked primitivism. A string of cryptic appearances soon followed, including a short-lived residency at a now-shuttered vodka dive; a micro-tour with Coloradan songstress Josephine Foster; and a series of backyard and barroom gigs sharing stages with compatriots like Stella Kola, Blues Ambush, Samara Lubelski, and Wednesday Knudsen. Heels in the Aisle is the slipshod, burnt-out, mid-'70s unter-prog comedown to their debut's backwoods, bushy-tailed, early-'70s, country-rock meanderings_expect more unrestrained riffs, artful studio wizardry, and worn-down introspection. Joining the ranks of bloodshot-eyed, blues-rock medleys à la Canned Heat's "Parthenogenesis" and Grand Funk's "Into The Sun," "The SDSPS" is the nearly side-length opening cut, an expanded song-cycle condensing and riffing on the themes of their debut. "Help Me" ventriloquizes Pomona College outlaw Kris Kristofferson's slow-roaring ballad of libidinal woe. On the flip side, "Verrazano Tile" and the title track pay heed to lower bays of Staten Island, while their arrangement of the traditional Zimbabwean tune "Guabi Guabi" is a bright Dead/Feat-like jaunt with blissed-out wah-wah pay-off. "Gaslight Boulevard" is lean, mean, and eight-beers-in space rock, and the closing track "Kekule's Ring" is a slack-jawed, wistful crash back down to earth. All this, packaged in a luxe, expertly-printed sleeve photographed by downtown artist Lary 7 and designed by Eric Wrenn (Sophie's Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides).

France-based, prog-rock power trio LIZZARD are out to reclaim the creative, collaborative energy that has fueled them for over a decade. On `Mesh', the band's fifth full length album, LIZZARD capture the energetic, lightning-in-a-bottle optimism of the late `90s post-punk/art-rock scene and reinvigorate it as something empowering, inspiring and simmering with potential. Recorded by the band in the abandoned factory they use as their creative base and produced again by now long-time friend and collaborator Peter Junge, `Mesh' is LIZZARD unleashing the raw, spontaneous might of their pent up live sound through the production precision of their studio experience. As such, themes of duality and control, whether it's regaining it or letting it go, run right through the album. Resounding with Elwell's inimitable, thundering drums and a barrage of colossal riffs, `Black Sheep' explores the dichotomy of body and mind, of black and white, that we all wrestle with on a daily basis whilst the mellow polyrhythms and plaintive melodies of `Mad Hatters' ask pressing questions of the people who are supposedly in charge of society. Epic album closer `The Beholder' captures the reinvigorated LIZZARD at their bracing best; bittersweet guitar refrains are bolstered by Will Knox's signature driving basslines and crashing half-time grooves as frontman Ricou considers the great cycle of life from his own perspective. Testament to the band's formidable compositional prowess, `The Beholder' ends as it starts, a closed loop. With only Ricou's playful, pithy refrain of "What goes around, comes around" left ringing in our ears, LIZZARD masterfully frame `Mesh' as both a poignant conclusion to the last chapter and as a bright new beginning.

France-based, prog-rock power trio LIZZARD are out to reclaim the creative, collaborative energy that has fueled them for over a decade. On `Mesh', the band's fifth full length album, LIZZARD capture the energetic, lightning-in-a-bottle optimism of the late `90s post-punk/art-rock scene and reinvigorate it as something empowering, inspiring and simmering with potential. Recorded by the band in the abandoned factory they use as their creative base and produced again by now long-time friend and collaborator Peter Junge, `Mesh' is LIZZARD unleashing the raw, spontaneous might of their pent up live sound through the production precision of their studio experience. As such, themes of duality and control, whether it's regaining it or letting it go, run right through the album. Resounding with Elwell's inimitable, thundering drums and a barrage of colossal riffs, `Black Sheep' explores the dichotomy of body and mind, of black and white, that we all wrestle with on a daily basis whilst the mellow polyrhythms and plaintive melodies of `Mad Hatters' ask pressing questions of the people who are supposedly in charge of society. Epic album closer `The Beholder' captures the reinvigorated LIZZARD at their bracing best; bittersweet guitar refrains are bolstered by Will Knox's signature driving basslines and crashing half-time grooves as frontman Ricou considers the great cycle of life from his own perspective. Testament to the band's formidable compositional prowess, `The Beholder' ends as it starts, a closed loop. With only Ricou's playful, pithy refrain of "What goes around, comes around" left ringing in our ears, LIZZARD masterfully frame `Mesh' as both a poignant conclusion to the last chapter and as a bright new beginning.

Die umjubelelten, schrill-bunten Rockerinnen von The Hot Damn! sind mit einem Paukenschlag zurück und veröffentlichen ihre elektrisierende neue Single Can You Hear Me Now? zusammen mit der Ankündigung ihres mit Spannung erwarteten Debütalbums Dancing on the Milky Way, das am Freitag, den 27. September 2024, über Fat Earth Records erscheinen wird. Die vierköpfige britische Rockband wird als das ,farbenfrohe Chaos" des Rock bezeichnet und bringt mit jedem Song, jedem Video und einer energischen Live-Show nach der anderen wieder Farbe in die Musikszene. Mit knackigen Riffs und wilden Harmonien bringen The Hot Damn! dich zum Tanzen, bevor du es merkst. Die vier temperamentvollen Damen, die unter anderem von Kerrang!, Planet Rock und BBC Radio 2, BBC Radio 6 und Radio BOB gelobt wurden, sind keine Unbekannten in der Musikszene. entstand die Band u.a. aus der Asche von The Amorettes und Tequila Mockingbyrd und besteht aus den Talenten von Gill Montgomery (The Amorettes), Josie O'Toole (Tequila Mockingbyrd), Laurie Buchanan (Aaron Buchanan and the Cult Classics) und Lzi Hayes (New Device/Sophie Lloyd Band).The Hot Damn! aus Marlow, Buckinghamshire, mögen es laut, aber sie machen nicht nur mit ihrer Musik auf sich aufmerksam, sondern auch auf ein Thema, das ihnen am Herzen liegt - den Gehörschutz. Da die Band erkannt hat, wie wichtig die Gesundheit des Gehörs sowohl für das Publikum als auch für die Musiker ist, hat sie sich dazu verpflichtet, bei all ihren Konzerten Einweg-Ohrstöpsel anzubieten. Neben einzelnen Headline-Gigs reisen The Hot Damn! im November 2024 als Support von D-A-D durch Deutschland um ihr hart rockendes Werk zu präsentieren. CD mit zwei Akustik-Bonustracks, LP als Sunshine Yellow Vinyl!

Perhaps best described as a pioneer of the underground experimental scene, the signature of Jørgen Teller on the musical landscape of Denmark traces back to the late 1970’s. Sprung out of a whirlpool of post-punk and art school ideas, Teller has relentlessly been chiseling away on the constrictions of music in various bands, collaborations and solo projects ever since. Searching out its farthest outposts - be it free jazz, noise or acousmatic music - Teller has strived towards an approach to music without rules, often by way of improvisation and usually with the aid of electric guitar.

This album is based on a live performance held at the Inter Arts Center in Malmö in early 2022, where Teller performed a semi-improvised piece in homage to the poet Poul Borum, whom he had worked with in the mid-90’s closely before Borum’s death in 1996.

As a composer, Teller relies on a set of “basic choices” that becomes a “precise point of departure” - where he can then go against his “good knowing” of the science, trends and different schools of music and go straight into his own instincts as a performer. For this performance, he used pre- recorded material of three rhythm boxes (all out of sync), timbales and sessions on Erica synths.

In dialogue with the label, Teller has focused on extracting the recording of the rhythm boxes and timbales alone, emphasizing the tension between the rhythms. With minimalist drum sequences that could easily be placed in a proto-techno context, and the whooshing of what might be an ancient rhombus instrument, there is a feeling of a primitive presence to Teller’s rhythmic excursions. A throwback to the spiritual realms of a wordless society fighting the demons of chance.

Occasionally pierced by stark industrial drum crashes and rattling post-punk percussion, it also conjures echoes from the darker side of the 1980s. In citing Borum as its inspiration, Teller shares that he channels the poet’s energy and their shared love of “noisy stuff and darkness”.
But the pace can also go somewhere close to breakbeat on track B2, where a whirlwind of rhythmic elements clash into a deranged deconstructed club tune.

The album also features a remix by a fellow colleague of the acousmatic community; the composer Jacob Riis. On the closing track B3, Riis quietly manipulates and balances the elements of Teller’s recordings and gently releases them into a contemplative pool of static.

"A Music from the Netflix Film THE DIRT A 14 Classics + 4 New Songs recorded for the Soundtrack A Including “The Dirt (Est. 1981)” Featuring Machine Gun Kelly

2LP Gatefold Jacket on Black Vinyl"

REISSUED!!! Received an 8.1 rating from Pitchfork. "Sadly, many will hear Chris Corsano & Bill Orcutt's latest LP, Made Out of Sound, as 'not-jazz,' though it would be more aptly described as 'not-not-jazz.' In a better world, it would warrant above-the-fold reviews in Downbeat, or an appearance on David Sanborn's late-night show (if someone would only give it back to him). More likely, we can hope for a haiku review on Byron Coley's Twitter timeline to sufficiently connect the various improvised terrains trodden by this long-time duo—but if you've been able to listen past the overmodulated icepick fidelity of Harry Pussy, it should surprise you not an iota that Orcutt's style is rooted as much in the fractal melodies of Trane and Taylor as it is in Delta syrup or Tin Pan Alley glitz. As for Corsano, well, it may seem daft to call this particular record 'jazz' (because duh, it has a drummer), but to me Corsano is beyond jazz, almost beyond music, his ambidextrous, octopoid technique grappling many stylistic levers and spraying a torrent of light from every direction. Corsano's ferocity has elevated many 'mere' improv records to transcendence, but here he's crafted his polyrhythms within more narrative channels, bringing to mind his 'mannered' playing in the lamented Flower-Corsano duo. It's not 'groove' playing precisely, but it follows many grooves simultaneously, much like Orcutt's own melodic musings—which is why they're so naturally lock-in-key here. Which maybe makes it all the more surprising that Made Out of Sound was in fact recorded in different rooms on different coasts at different times, and stitched together by Orcutt on his desktop. Corsano recorded the drums in Ithaca, NY, and (as Orcutt states), 'I didn't edit them at all. I overdubbed two guitar tracks, panned left/right. I'd listen to the drums a couple times, pick a tuning, then improvise a part, thinking of the first track as backing and the second as the 'lead', though those are pretty fluid terms. I was watching the waveforms as I was recording, so I could see when a crescendo was coming or when to bring it down.' Fluidity ties the tracks together. With a little more groove and a little less around-the-beat maneuvering, one could almost hear the boiling harmonic layers as Miles-oid in 'Man Carrying Thing,' but with new-found Sharrockian modalities, Corsano accentuating the tumbling nature of the falling notes. The Sharrock vein continues with 'How to Cook a Wolf,' its Blind Willie-esque melodic simplicity and repetition extrapolated 360-style in a repetitive descending riff that falls into Cippolina-isms (by way of Verlaine ) until the end crashes upon the shore. Much like Orcutt's last solo album, Odds Against Tomorrow, there's a gentler, almost pastoral flow to some tracks ('Some Tennessee Jar,' 'A Port in Air,' 'Thirteen Ways of Looking') that calls to mind the mixolydian swamplands of Lonnie Liston Smith—but unlike Odds , other tracks ('The Thing Itself') smash that same lyricism into overdriven, multi-dimensional melodic clumps that push several vector envelopes at once in an Interstellar Space vein. With the help of Corsano, Orcutt has managed to slither even further out of the noise/improv pigeonhole lazy listeners/writers keep trying to shove him into. Looking at the back cover of Made Out of Sound , we should not see Orcutt hurling a guitar into the air with post-punk bravado, Corsano toiling behind him in the engine room—we should witness an instrument levitating from his hands, rising on invisible major-key tendrils of melody, fired by percussion, spiraling into an invisible event horizon..."—Tom Carter

Hassan Abou Alam is next to step up to the unconventional Nerve Collect label with six tracks of futuristic club-ready chaos. The finely crafted EP arrives in August and comes on 12" vinyl and via all digital platforms.

Hassan Abou Alam has established himself as one of Egypt's most innovative underground musicians over the last 10+ years. His music is a meeting of disparate worlds - organic and synthetic designs, digital and analogue tools, the traditional and the futuristic, and it has come on the likes of YUKU, Rhythm Section, Banoffee Pies and Casa Voyager. His versatile sound pulls apart existing genres and reconstructs them as something entirely new.

Opener '3asabi' is a stylish sonic assault with thumping rhythms and trippy oscillations that will get any dance floor bouncing. It's fun yet functional, serious yet seductive and 'Basha' Ft. ZIAD ZAZA, Ismail Nosrat & Aly B is another kinetic fusion of hand claps and complex drum funk, Egyptian vocal gymnastics and punchy bass. 'Ghalat' has lurching drums and plunging bass driving on beneath mangled synths, odd vocalisations and percussive splatters drawn from a unique sound palette. The drilling low ends of 'Khalsana' Ft ZIAD ZAZA are offset by fluttering percussive details up top while spare but booming kicks shake every bone in your body and the bassline devastates.

There is no let up on 'Mesh Mafhoom' which is a ritualistic workout with moments of melancholic synth soul shining through the jumble of tin-pot percussion and crashing hits. Closer 'Zein' is more body-popping brilliance that channels ancient spirits into warped synths and rhythms so complex they melt the mind.
Hassan Abou Alam's blurring of the lines between the real and the imagined is second to none on this EP. It's a sub-heavy mix of the human voice, machine-made sounds and inventive rhythms that make for something new, weird and wonderful.

Jade Hairpins waste no time fulfilling their second album's titular demand. From its harmony-drenched opening note to its baroque-anthemic conclusion, Get Me the Good Stuff is positively loaded with musical ideas, an absurdist buffet of sound and aesthetic that comes with one hell of a floorshow as the Hairpins stack those ideas higher and higher, almost daring them to crash to the floor. Instead, those elements - punksploitation, power pop, baggy, funk, and Italo disco are just some touchstones - are not only held aloft, they defy gravity and convention. These pyrotechnics are, in true Jade Hairpins fashion, something of a sleight of hand. While the music swaggers and gallops, Get Me the Good Stuff grapples with anxiety and self-doubt, obfuscating pain and alienation with sparkling wit and some straight-up ravers. Get Me the Good Stuff opens with one of those, "Let It Be Me," in which Jonah Falco shouts lyrics about being alone with one's shortcomings against guitars, synths, and harmonized vocals that are on the verge of closing in. The song is just over 90 seconds long, hitting with the gnarled-barb ferocity of punk and the gleeful insanity of theatrical art rock. It is, in other words, overwhelming. Or it would be if Jade Hairpins - Jonah Falco and Mike Haliechuk - weren't remarkably nimble in their ability to bring unity to sounds by placing them in competition against each other. When those sounds are adjacent, like the glam and disco that saturate "Drifting Superstition," the thrill of those universes colliding in the heat of an absolutely filthy clavichord line turns its lyrics, about the habit of solving personal problems by ignoring them, into a winner's anthem on the order of Bowie or Hot Chocolate. Get Me the Good Stuff arcs towards unequivocal joy as Falco, Jade Hairpins' primary lyricist, breaks these cycles and attempts to run away with his dreams. The arc is roughly analogous to how the album came to fruition. Four years removed from Harmony Avenue, an album of material that proved too strong to be contained within the narrative universe of Fucked Up's Dose Your Dreams, Jade Hairpins have gelled as a live act - with Tamsin M. Leach and Jack Goldstein centering them on stage - and planted their flag in the UK punk scene in which Falco has embedded himself. Working out new material live, Falco noticed that crowds were digging into his unfinished lyrics, and the album tightened around the anxieties of being in the spotlight, of being worthy of attention. At times, those songs are eager to please, like the album's title track in which a winking self-deprecation rubs up against the self-congratulatory bombast of Freddie Mercury, Falco simultaneously turning heads as a shooting star and a burning car. Elsewhere, as in "Better Here Than in Love," Jade Hairpins pitch themselves towards creating gorgeous soundscapes that exist nowhere else, channeling postpunk through the glimmering haze of '80s Japanese electronic music. Theatrical and personal, absurd and true-to-life, playful and serious, Get Me the Good Stuff is album of tremendous personal and artistic growth that signposts towards dozens of potential futures to come. It's not only worth the attention, it continuously rewards it.

FOR FANS OF: Soundgarden, Foo Fighters, Queens Of The Stone Age, Silverchair, Black Sabbath
Wie sie selbst zugeben, gab es eine Zeit, in der es unwahrscheinlich schien, dass Torus überhaupt hier stehen würden, um der Welt ihr Debütalbum
vorzustellen. Das ist an sich schon eine überraschende erste Aussage, die aus dem Mund von Frontmann und Band-Mastermind Alfie Glass kommt,
während er und seine Bandkollegen im Wohnzimmer seines Hauses außerhalb von Milton Keynes sitzen. Jeder Schritt, den Torus bisher
unternommen haben, wurde mit Interesse und Beifall bedacht - bereits vor der von der Kritik gelobten Debüt-EP Sail" schwärmten die wichtigsten
Kritiker wie Kerrang! und Classic Rock von ihrer Marke des Null-Bullshit-Hardrocks", der gigantische Riffs und dicke, monströse Grooves" in der
Tradition von Rockgrößen wie Kyuss, Queens Of The Stone Age und Smashing Pumpkins bietet. Wenn Ihnen der Name Alfie Glass noch vertrauter
vorkommt, liegt das wahrscheinlich daran, dass Black Sabbath-Gitarrenlegende Tony Iommi die Fähigkeiten des Sechssaiters in der TV-Talentshow
Guitar Star lobte, als Glass gerade mal 12 Jahre alt war. Torus begann als Ein-Mann-Schlafzimmerprojekt, wurde aber schon bald durch den Bassisten
Harry Quinn (2020) und den Schlagzeuger Jack Orr (Anfang 2022) ergänzt. Trotz ihrer unterschiedlichen musikalischen Hintergründe und Einflüsse, die
von Wüstenrock über psychedelischen Prog bis hin zu Punk reichen, verbindet das Trio der gemeinsame Wunsch, Musik zu machen, die die Köpfe zum
Klingen bringt und die Füße bewegt. "Wir kommen alle aus verschiedenen Ecken, haben aber eine gemeinsame Vision für die Musik, die wir schreiben
wollen", nickt Orr.

Jade Hairpins waste no time fulfilling their second album's titular demand. From its harmony-drenched opening note to its baroque-anthemic conclusion, Get Me the Good Stuff is positively loaded with musical ideas, an absurdist buffet of sound and aesthetic that comes with one hell of a floorshow as the Hairpins stack those ideas higher and higher, almost daring them to crash to the floor. Instead, those elements_punksploitation, power pop, baggy, funk, and Italo disco are just some touchstones_are not only held aloft, they defy gravity and convention. These pyrotechnics are, in true Jade Hairpins fashion, something of a sleight of hand. While the music swaggers and gallops, Get Me the Good Stuff grapples with anxiety and self-doubt, obfuscating pain and alienation with sparkling wit and some straight-up ravers. Get Me the Good Stuff opens with one of those, "Let It Be Me," in which Jonah Falco shouts lyrics about being alone with one's shortcomings against guitars, synths, and harmonized vocals that are on the verge of closing in. The song is just over 90 seconds long, hitting with the gnarled-barb ferocity of punk and the gleeful insanity of theatrical art rock. It is, in other words, overwhelming. Or it would be if Jade Hairpins_Jonah Falco and Mike Haliechuk_weren't remarkably nimble in their ability to bring unity to sounds by placing them in competition against each other. When those sounds are adjacent, like the glam and disco that saturate "Drifting Superstition," the thrill of those universes colliding in the heat of an absolutely filthy clavichord line turns its lyrics, about the habit of solving personal problems by ignoring them, into a winner's anthem on the order of Bowie or Hot Chocolate. Get Me the Good Stuff arcs towards unequivocal joy as Falco, Jade Hairpins' primary lyricist, breaks these cycles and attempts to run away with his dreams. The arc is roughly analogous to how the album came to fruition. Four years removed from Harmony Avenue, an album of material that proved too strong to be contained within the narrative universe of Fucked Up's Dose Your Dreams, Jade Hairpins have gelled as a live act_with Tamsin M. Leach and Jack Goldstein centering them on stage_and planted their flag in the UK punk scene in which Falco has embedded himself. Working out new material live, Falco noticed that crowds were digging into his unfinished lyrics, and the album tightened around the anxieties of being in the spotlight, of being worthy of attention. At times, those songs are eager to please, like the album's title track in which a winking self-deprecation rubs up against the self-congratulatory bombast of Freddie Mercury, Falco simultaneously turning heads as a shooting star and a burning car. Elsewhere, as in "Better Here Than in Love," Jade Hairpins pitch themselves towards creating gorgeous soundscapes that exist nowhere else, channeling postpunk through the glimmering haze of '80s Japanese electronic music. Theatrical and personal, absurd and true-to-life, playful and serious, Get Me the Good Stuff is album of tremendous personal and artistic growth that signposts towards dozens of potential futures to come. It's not only worth the attention, it continuously rewards it.

Lemonheads’ seminal album ‘It’s A Shame About Ray’, lovingly reissued for it’s 30th Anniversary. The long overdue reissue includes a slew of extra material, including an unreleased ‘My Drug Buddy’ KCRW session track from 1992 featuring Juliana Hatfield, B-sides from singles ‘It’s A Shame About Ray’ and ‘Confetti’, a track from the ‘Mrs. Robinson/Being Round’ EP, alongside demos that will be released for the first time on vinyl. This reissue celebrates their prestigious fifth album, these deluxe bookback editions feature new liner notes and unseen photos.

Described by music journalist and author Everett True as “A 30-minute insight into what it’s like to live hard and fast and loose and happy with like-minded buddies, fuelled by a shared love for similar bands and drugs and booze and freedom.”. ‘It's A Shame About Ray’ had a considerable impact back in those heady, carefree days of '92, the record perfectly captures Dando’s ability to effortlessly encapsulate teenage longing and lust over the course of a two-minute pop song.

Singles such as 'My Drug Buddy' and the breezy perfect pop of the title track might stand out (plus the add-on of 'Mrs. Robinson' which later copies included), but the album's real strength lies in the tracks in-between; the truly fantastic 'Confetti' (written about Evan's parents' divorce), and the eye-wateringly casual acoustic cover of 'Frank Mills' (from the "hippie" musical Hair), a version that seems to resonate with every ounce of pathos and emotion felt for the lost 1960s generation. To hear Evan Dando sing lines like 'I love him/but it embarrasses me/To walk down the street with him/He lives in Brooklyn somewhere/And he wears his white crash helmet' is to truly appreciate how wonderful and tantalising pop music can be. Then, there's the rush of insurgency and brattishness on the wonderfully truncated 'Bit Part'; the topsy-turvy 'Ceiling Fan In My Spoon'... this was male teenage skinny-tie pop music on a level of brilliance with The Kinks, early Undertones, Wipers.

Steve Moore returns to the library music fold and it's a total doozy: Cursed Objects is truly sensational prog-synth-wave. Featuring epic electronic explorations with chamber music and symphonic flourishes, it's our favourite thing Steve has ever done. In keeping with the horror heat of the music contained within, this vinyl release is frighteningly limited, with just 500 pressed for the world.

New York-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/film composer Steve Moore is probably best known for his synthesizer and bass guitar work as Zombi, together with Anthony Paterra. But he is also part of Miracle and Titan as well as being a prolific solo artist releasing music as Gianni Rossi, Lovelock and under his own name. Steve’s music has found a home across hallowed labels like Future Times, Mexican Summer, LIES, Static Caravan, Kompakt, Death Waltz, Ghost Box and, of course, Be With Records.

Steve released Cursed Objects for fresh library label Fold. Run by ex-KPM head Paul Sandell, it's a library with values we can all get behind. It's the first production music platform working exclusively with independent labels, publishers and artists to create a truly authentic artist-led sound, at production music rates. Here's what Steve had to say: "I had worked with Paul before, at KPM. After he left, he mentioned that he had started a new library - Fold - and I was very interested in being a part. And I happened to be working on a bunch of music at the time that I thought could fit." So here we are!

The LP opens by letting in "The Uninvited One". Calm and relaxed arpeggiated synths build around sweeping strings and plucked harp to create a mystical and hopeful feel. The title track sees dark synths merge and swell with a piano, string and harp melody that is dark, mysterious and brooding. "Evolutionary Steps" is an electro synthwave track that builds with epic strings and beats, offering an expansive and dreamy approach with a mystical and driving rhythm. Next up, "The Icarus Feather" is daring, pulsing and cinematic synthwave that builds with arpeggiated synths to a hopeful end. "Daily Affirmations" offers calm and meditative ambient synths with plucked harp and strings for a reflective, peaceful, daydreamy feel.

“Mesmer's Bauble” ushers in side two, its dark synth backing builds with plucked harp and strings building with a sense of unknown and dread; it's introspective and heartfelt. "Quiet Springs" is all mystical synths, harps and strings, building to an epic panoramic scope with a hopeful and poignant atmosphere. "Festival Of Samhain" presents a dark and brooding piano melody which builds with synths and strings to create a slow and desolate feel. "The Icarus Feather (Revisited)" is epic building synthwave with arpeggiated synths and strings and a driving rhythm - the beat builds with the strings entering a forceful and marching mood. To close, "Shard Of Medusa" rides a serious and dark piano melody and, in concert with harp and strings, it creates a suspenseful and solemn atmosphere.

Steve recorded Cursed Objects, as always, at his home studio in Albany, NY. For synths, he mostly used his trusty Prophet 6, as well as his Moog Minitaur and lots of Korg Polysix too. But he also utilised a lot of virtual instruments - he doesn't have the budget for a full string section, or a harpist, alas.

The album’s cover was designed by Chris Stevenson. The artwork is a nod to first wave cyberpunk and in particular Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash and the idea of mind viruses and cursed data. Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis, and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at AIR Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. Far from being cursed, this is another future classic library LP.

Are you a mannequin in the eyes of your beloved? Does your partner compare your relationship to a factory that emits plumes of smoke? Are you in love with a seductive and destructive Credit Default Swap? Someone who sucks you in with skyrocketing short term erotic returns - only to ghost you until you crash so hard that you end up broke(n) in your own bed? Do you pay $300 an hour out of pocket to a psychiatrist who promises to help you strike a deal with a difcult parent - one that will produce more stable long term returns on your psychic investments? If so, then you, my friend, may be drowning in the sea of Love in the Time of Capital. It's where everyone would love to drown. It's a new album from John Davis of The Folk Implosion that fnds him backed with confdence by Eli Moore and Andrew Dorsett of the indie pop band Lake. It was recorded by Nich Wilbur at the Unknown, a cavernous recording studio in Anacortes, WA that has been a favorite destination for indie rockers around the nation. Ben Brodin recorded Megan Siebe playing strings on two tracks at his Hidden Branch studio in Omaha, and the album was mixed by Scott Solter in Durham NC. Arrangements are based on the classic power pop trio of drums, bass and electric guitar. Those elements are tastefully embellished with organs and pianos that call to mind records by classic rock bands like Tom Petty's Heartbreakers. That is, if the Heartbreakers were fltered through the Northwestern International Pop Underground tradition, and cast a critical eye on how commodity culture shapes the way we think of ourselves and our intimate relationships. The album also features four ballads, three drum and electric guitar free, for all you late night introspective heads.

Nach über 20 Jahren ist das zweite Album 'A Present For Everyone' der britischen Pop-Punk-Band Busted nun als limitierte blaue Vinyl wieder erhältlich!

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Blue Vinyl)

Eight no-nonsense tracks, straight to the point. Moroka delivers the goods in this raw, unpolished gem of a release. Constructed in a week at home in Loughborough Junction after a conversation with FG boss Alex - these cuts are all about the energy, no time wasted on refinement. The drums rumble and shuffle, crashing into each other with an unpredictable rhythm that keeps you on your toes. The narrative here is simple: Mo, his neighbourhood, and his gear.

Early support and plays from Shy One, Scratcha DVA, D Bridge & Mr Beatnick.

Photography by Charlie Birch, design by Alex Horne, tape covers riso printed at Terry Bleu, Amsterdam.

Repress!

Far Out Recordings proudly presents the first and only album from the mysterious Brazilian vocal sensation Dila (pronounced “Jee-la”). Having reportedly died in a car crash shortly after the album’s release in 1971, there is very little known about the woman behind the voice. But the joyous music Dila left behind, gives us a picture as good as any, of a powerful feminine soul at the top of her game.

The liner notes on the elusive original LP, written by composer Arnoldo Medeiros attest: “Friend, look out! Because when this girl starts to sing, you’re in trouble. Hold the railing so you don’t fall down the stairs, because she’s coming this way and shaking up everything.”

Arranged and produced by Durval Ferreira, alongside his studio band affectionately known as “Os Grillos” (The Crickets), Dila (1971) is a rare glimpse into the authentic soulful Samba sound of Rio’s favelas in the late sixties and early seventies.

A blast of funky, percussive Brazilian breaks, scorching hot brass and swing-laden piano, the music is as iconic as the album’s stark cover, as is clear on opener ‘Inez’, composed by The Crickets’ bassist Romildo. There’s a fantastic interpretation of the Ivan Lins classic ‘Madalena’ (made famous by Elis Regina), a moving version of the Tom Jobim and Vinicius De Moraes classic ‘O Morro Não Tem Vez’, and a number of sunny original compositions by Arnold Madeiros, who’s other writing credits include music for Marcos Valle, Wanderlea, Evinha and Dom Salvador.

With original LPs extremely hard to come by, this rare treasure of Brazilian soul, which fans of Gal Costa, Celia, Evinha and Elis Regina will love, gets a much-deserved official reissue: remastered and pressed to 180g vinyl.

Enjoy The Ride Records in conjunction with Morgan Creek proudly presents Stay Tuned (Music From the Original Motion Picture). Available on vinyl for the first time, Bruce Broughton's score to the 1992 cult classic comedy featuring John Ritter, Pam Dawber, Jeffrey Jones & Eugene Levy takes listeners on a musical adventure.

Saying Roy Knable loves television is an understatement. He's so hooked on it that his wife takes a baseball bat to the screen and shatters it. Mr. Spike soon appears at the Knable's door, selling Roy a Satellite dish with 666 channels that aren't available on regular cable (because Spike is sent from hell, and the Knables are about to become part of the Hellevision network lineup). The Knables have 24 hours to make their way through the channels (which are hilariously gory parodies of popular television shows and films of the era) to survive.

Stay Tuned (Music From the Original Motion Picture) is a 2xLP pressed at 45 RPM. It's housed in a gatefold jacket featuring original cover art by Drew Struzan, along with new gatefold and back cover art by Garreth Gibson. Pressing is limited to 1,000 copies.

Emerging once again from the unending waves crashing upon our fragile time-craft (adrift on the eternal ocean, and taking on water), Dirty Three are (a) back, (b) tangled in seaweed, rank with saltwater and possessed of three rather ominous thousand-mile stares (at least!), and (c) not wasting another minute – as nothing is guaranteed. For their first album in over a decade – yep, it’s been since 2012’s Toward the Low Sun – they flew in, got together and started playing. End of story. What else is there to say or do but that? Music’s their language, their true love; they never stop listening to that. And like the label says, Love Changes Everything.

The Dirty Three – Warren Ellis, Mick Turner and Jim White – formed up in Melbourne in 1992, to play with guitar drums and violin or viola, and within a couple years, they’d broken out – out of Australia, out of anything else they might have been inside of, to boot – and got worldwide. Over the next ten years, they toured over and over the planet, ceaseless like, and cut seven albums out along the way. After this, their unique style of play, fitted together like puzzle pieces, was decoupled, more often than not, and pieced together in many other, fruitful collaborations with many other esteemed talents. Over the past 20 years, they’ve gotten together a few times, renewed the vow, revved the engines and played some shows, or made an album. Like now

"Ogives Big Band is a riff powerhouse hailing from Bristol, UK. Initially forming as an instrumental trio with a view to expand the existing Øgïvęš solo material. The addition of an established and furious rhythm section warped the compositions and song writing process into a new beast entirely. Featuring polyrhythmic soundscapes crashing into brutal breakdowns, blistering riffs melting into luscious ethereal drones, & an all encompassing sense of drive & menace. 2020 saw the addition of a new vocalist which has transformed a previously instrumental setup into a much fiercer prospect. Replete with furiously yelled vocals, serene croons & abstract lyricism and wordplay. 2023 will see the quartet appear at Portals and ArcTanGent festivals as well as tours in support of their new album, set to be released late 2023/early 2024. The new album – entitled ‘Boisterous Love’ - will showcase a move into whole new musical territories of savage, angular, doom laden sludge, progressive metal and psychedelic stoner rock."

"Finally!" The Aquabats'! long-awaited 8th studio album set to debut on June 21, 2024! Featuring the talents of The MC Bat Commander, Crash McLarson, Jimmy the Robot, Ricky Fitness, Eaglebones Falconhawk, Chainsaw The Prince of Karate, Catboy, and Gorney,
'Finally!' is a 17-track extravaganza and love letter to their worldwide fans.

Repress!

HERBERT HUNTER will be forever worshiped by the UK Northern Soul scene for his anthemic 45 'I Was Born to Love You', recorded in the home of country music, Nashville, in 1967. Sometimes things are just meant to be and they collide in perfect harmony. 'I Was Born To Love You' is a case in point. The perfect lyric - 'I Was Born To Love You, You Were Born To Tear My Heart Apart' - the perfect beat, and perfect timing as it crashed onto these shores in the summer of '76 when Northern Soul was at its zenith and Wigan Casino owned the All-Nighter scene! But, Hunter is no one-trick pony, as his list of collectable 45s bears testament, not least 'Happy Go Lucky', also on Spar. Hunter was part of Ted Jarrett's roster of artists and, under Jarrett's stewardship recorded a string of cover versions under the pseudonym Leroy Jones for the neighbouring budget label 'Hit'. He learnt much of his trade from established artists and label mates such as Gene Allison who he toured with as minder and nursemaid, due to Allison's drink problem. Often, when they arrived a venue, Allison was too drunk to perform and Hunter would step in for him.
For our B-side we've chosen a lesser known, but no less wonderful and gritty Northern Soul dancer 'I Know The Feelin'' by THE JADES. Currently very much in demand with a mint copy selling earlier this year for over $900. We know little about The Jades who recorded this incredible slab of up-tempo soul for Ted Jarrett's Poncello label in 1964 featuring, of course, Herbert Hunter's booming lead vocal.
Many thanks to Fred James for making this superb double-sider possible.

An exercise in control of auditory limitations and possibilities, GAEL redefines techno production with their comprehension of cold atmospherics and meticulous world building. Exemplified in their first solo EP ‘Frozen White Horse’ released on BITE Records, fervent, hurtling drums are underpinned by hopeful euphorics and circulating, breathy cybernetics. A culmination of sophisticated sonic dialects reared from the intersections of soundscaping and electronic music, the berlin-based DJ/Producer from Dagestan (by-way-of Kyiv and Odesa) commits their practice to the inclusivity of borderless, capricious and emotive dance- floor synergy. This energy was previously captured on BITE last year with their appearances on the Shedding Skin VA and The Soft Moon’s Exister Remixed. GAEL’s harmonic and organic approach to techno production echoes the heartbeat of dancefloor resistance,captivating audiences across venues from Berlin’s Berghain to Kyiv’s ∄ as a resident at the queer event series XITb. Delivering thunderous feeling through experimental sounds and masterful pacing, the 4-track-EP blurs the margins of moody techno exploration with remarkable attitude and a foreboding sense of uphill struggle. For the opening title track, a procession of stacked chords,synths and snares are met with a cyclone of galloping percussion building to maximum intensity until dispersing into echoey chimes. As the listener is able to catch their breath, the second track ‘prpttcxsstnc’ reignites - this time with trepidatious yet ethereal vibration, as the track continues to inject GAEL’s post-punk style of galvanised energy, rich layered drums maintain the undercurrent of resolute chaos into the following track ‘there is nothing left’. Sombre track titles are off-set by triumphant vigour for the third instalment, pushing through gale force drums and the clanging zaps and bleeps of electronic debris. Concluding with the final cacophony of collaged beats and drums, bellowing siren-like cold wails meld with GAEL’s calamity crescendo of crashing cymbals, the procession of rapturous drums slipping into a distant echo of warped hollow gleams.