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2024 Repress

All in that stark contrast between ethereal spaciousness and steely, martial rhythms out the industrial spectrum, 'Far Field' takes us on a voyage across the board, from breaks-heavy machine stunts to washed-out tapestries, via EBM-laced detours and junglistic maneuvers. Investigating the nexus zone between dance functionality and limitless escapology, it extrapolates both artists' blends to further immersive, hypnotic effect. Taking over the A side, .VRIL gets the ball rolling with 'Lost Together', which sets the tone on a low-slung, nostalgia-drenched note; combining the syncopated swagger of downtempo techno with ambient-oid stasis and static-filled opacity. Like watching an all-metal sun sinking past the blazing skyline. Revving up the engines, 'Fnord' feat. RAeYN conjures up a way more muscular arsenal of big-room-ready wares, from aggro snare salvos to anthemic synth kinetics, through that replicant-hunting kinda vibe. One to have the Saturn rings go hula hoop, with all woofers and brains in the vicinity melting in XTC. Shutting the A side off, 'We Believe' returns to a lighter, more vaporous mindset but sure implements that signature heavy swing of .VRIL, flush with textured kicks and FX-soaked arps. True monster prog swell. Flip it over and there's HVL dishing out a textbook example of his vortical electronic furls with the title-track, 'Far Field' - an oneiric drift that slowly rises from its heavy-lidded slumber, ascending towards bleepin' n bloopin' experimental effervescence as bars fly by. A number bound to hack your body and mind into two distinct facets, and while one dances its way frantically across the ever buzzing space/time continuum, the other shall reach a state of healing calm and transcending ubiquity. Smoothly shuttling us off to the upper layers of the ionosphere, 'Lancet Mxi' clenches it on a trippy note, taxiing us midway zero-G UK bass territories and eerie ambient abstraction. HVL's total, widescreen vision at its most unhindered, all set at expanding your mind to yet uncharted horizons of sound and closing the gap between two distant, estranged galaxies. A fractured headspace to both dance and dream to. *Dressed in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Daniel M. Diaz, 'RYCL021' comes pressed on 180g audiophile black vinyl for optimal playing and listening experience.

‘Questionably a hardcore band’ is how Daddy’s Boy describe themselves, and one listen to their discombobulatingly brilliant debut LP should answer all your questions as to what that could possibly mean. Recorded with Steve Albini at Electrical Audio, GREAT NEWS! is the sound of punk folding in on itself and racing through sounds you might have previously identified with dumb genre tags like post-punk and possibly even no-wave - except this isn’t either of those things. It rages smartly and discordantly across a wide terrain of undulating rhythms and coruscating rifferema, eventually settling on something that’s… well, kinda uniquely Daddy’s Boy. So what makes this sound? Specifically, four humans who are too clever to simply follow the ‘three chords, now form a band’ template without trying to fuck up the corners (and work their way into the centre). Members of Split Feet, Retreaters and Fake Limbs pile up together to create this delicious cacophony, and you’ll be glad they did. When vocalist Jes Skolnik intones, “I’m so fucking important,” you know it’s drenched in venomous irony, but it’s difficult not to agree: GREAT NEWS! feels like a record that’ll last way beyond those ‘best of the year’ lists and continue to pulverise your eardrums for years to come. It’s the sort of record that felt like the future when Touch & Go Records pushed hardcore past its knuckleheaded limitations 40 years ago, and still feels like no one ever really caught up. It’s the riffs from Cows’ Cunning Stunts, cribbing notes from Crass’ Feeding Of The 5,000, with vocal delivery pitched to ‘gloriously matter-of-fact’. Oh, and no spoilers, but in Skolnik, Daddy’s Boy might just have one of the smartest lyricists in (questionable) hardcore right now. Mark my words, this is some record. Will Fitzpatrick