quête:psychose

Nice stock found with this Doom old school hardcore record from the end of the 90's.

A new Metal + Metal... Brilliant Hardcore old school opus, with a superb David Lagon, 203 BPM cruiser... Then comes a Morgan Hardcore mental speedcore 220 BPM kicker. B side opens with a Radium 195 BPM rockin' tune, dancefloor special weapon as usual. Speedloader finished the job at 205 BPM with an old school shaker. Once again Metal Plus Metal instal its own hardcore sound and style, united force of the old school ^^

Blood Sanctum Vinyl w/ Poster

Futurismo präsentiert das legendäre Debütalbum "Only Theatre Of Pain" (1982) der Gothic-Legenden Christian Death in neuen limitierten Deluxe-Formaten - remastert und erweitert um frühe Demos und rarem Material, samt Poster. "Only Theatre Of Pain" gilt als Meisterwerk und Ursprung des Deathrock - ein wegweisendes Epos von unheiliger Kraft und tiefschwarzer Emotionalität. Obwohl seine Wurzeln im Punk liegen – die Ursprünge der Christian Death-Originalbesetzung liegen in der Früh-1980er Hardcore-Explosion in Südkalifornien –, kann die Bedeutung dieses Werks für die nachfolgende Musiklandschaft nicht hoch genug eingeschätzt werden. Wie ein Adrenalinstoß ins Herz der Finsternis entspringt diese ungezügelte und geheimnisvolle Aufnahme bis heute jeder Kategorisierung. Mit dem visionären Rozz Williams (damals noch Teenager) sowie Punk-Legende Rikk Agnew (Adolescents), James McGearty und George Belanger präsentiert "Only Theatre Of Pain" eine musikalische Erkundung, geprägt von psychosexueller Lyrik und einem tiefen Glaubenskampf, aufgenommen innerhalb weniger Tage mit Produzentenlegende Thom Wilson. Klanglich und visuell seiner Zeit voraus, ist dieses Stück sakrilegischer US-Punk ein absolutes Muss für alle, die sich für Gothic begeistern, für Fans von The Misfits, Bauhaus und The Cramps.

Following our deep & dubby vibes, this time are our good friend TIMID BOY , as usual there is no digital promotion and it’s limited edition.

No coment would be better... So you just listen


Cut at The Exchange by Simon Davey (UK)
Pressed at Records Industry (NL)
Distrivbbuted by Toolbox (FR)

Frontierless.

Eine streng limitierte Erstpressung von Arcas legendärem Mixtape @@@@@, das vor der Veröffentlichung ihrer KICK-Serie für Furore sorgte. Mit 62 Minuten voller Sounds, die jegliches musikalischen Quantensystem sprengen. Diese Arbeit ist eines ihrer bisher feinfühligsten und wohl erstaunlichsten Werke - hart, sanft, emotional, brutal, aufrichtig und verspielt - ein brutalistisches Kunstwerk auf Doppel-Vinyl mit einer gravierten D-Seite.

Eine weitverbreitete Utopie ist die Ewigkeit. Eine andere ist das Glück. Man spielt mit dem Leben - wie gehabt und wie immer ohne Gewähr!

Manche tragen ihre Hoffnungen an die Börse, andere zur Glücksspielannahmestelle. Die Berliner Band Milliarden befindet sich auf ihrer neuen Studioeinspielung 'Lotto' in der Transitzone zwischen Kommen und Gehen. Dort, wo der Puls rauscht und Dasein Ankunft und Abschied bedeutet. Milliarden sind Ben Hartmann und Johannes Aue aus Berlin.

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Clear Vinyl+ Poster)

Eine weitverbreitete Utopie ist die Ewigkeit. Eine andere ist das Glück. Man spielt mit dem Leben - wie gehabt und wie immer ohne Gewähr!

Manche tragen ihre Hoffnungen an die Börse, andere zur Glücksspielannahmestelle. Die Berliner Band Milliarden befindet sich auf ihrer neuen Studioeinspielung 'Lotto' in der Transitzone zwischen Kommen und Gehen. Dort, wo der Puls rauscht und Dasein Ankunft und Abschied bedeutet. Milliarden sind Ben Hartmann und Johannes Aue aus Berlin.

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Clear Vinyl+ Poster)

Seitdem sie sich 1992 ihren Weg aus der düsteren Unterwelt Tokios gebahnt haben, haben DEFILED mit ihrer knochenbrechenden Aggression und komplexen Kunstfertigkeit eine blutige Schneise in die globale Death Metal-Szene geschlagen. Sie haben ihr Vermächtnis als Vertreter der Grausamkeit zementiert und ihre unerbittlichen Angriffe sind so unerbittlich wie immer geblieben.
Willkommen in den Abgründen von Horror Beyond Horror, DEFILEDs katastrophalem neuesten Werk, das mit der Bosheit veredelt ist, die nur erfahrene Dämonen des Todes beschwören können. Jeder Track ist eine weitere groteske Erkundung der Tiefen menschlicher Verderbtheit, und das Album verschmilzt auf bösartige Weise die Grausamkeit des Death Metal alter Schule mit Strängen von technischem Thrash und progressiver Psychose.
Schalt DEFILEDs Horror Beyond Horror ein und lass dich vom Wahnsinn befreien - das einzige, was brutaler ist als die Realität, ist dieses Album.

FFO: Cryptopsy, Hate Eternal, Dying Fetus

Schlechte Laune, schlechte Gewohnheiten und schlechter Atem kollidieren auf diesem Zehn-Song-Haufen auf dem Freeway nach Nirgendwo. "You Get What You Deserve" von 1985, das Neo-Grunge, Swamprock und Noise-Punk in einem Kessel drogengeschwängerter Psychosen verschmelzen lässt, setzt die australische Gefängnis-als-Land-Tradition des Wahnsinns im Angesicht der kulturellen Isolation fort. Atombomben-Nostalgie, Femme Fatale-Scharfschützen, Demolition Derbies und ein Urlaub am Hell Beach erwarten den Hörer.

Schlechte Laune, schlechte Gewohnheiten und schlechter Atem kollidieren auf diesem Zehn-Song-Haufen auf dem Freeway nach Nirgendwo. "You Get What You Deserve" von 1985, das Neo-Grunge, Swamprock und Noise-Punk in einem Kessel drogengeschwängerter Psychosen verschmelzen lässt, setzt die australische Gefängnis-als-Land-Tradition des Wahnsinns im Angesicht der kulturellen Isolation fort. Atombomben-Nostalgie, Femme Fatale-Scharfschützen, Demolition Derbies und ein Urlaub am Hell Beach erwarten den Hörer.

This vinyl release of Lord Nord is a must have for the lovers of his sound…

It’s a release with hidden messages….

Neunzehn pointierte Betrachtungen zu allen möglichen und unmöglichen Aspekten des Lebens, und das in unter 44 Minuten: Tempo, verzerrte Powerchords und eingängige Melodien sind die Hauptzutaten für den GRUSS AUS DER KÜCHE, das neue Album von Ernte 77. Die Songs sind wieder kürzer geworden, die Ideendichte dafür höher. Ohne Verschnaufpause geht es von einem lyrischen Mikrokosmos zum nächsten, während sich notorisch durch die (nicht nur) Punk-Historie zitiert wird. Das Album ist eine bandtypische Gratwanderung zwischen harmonischen Refrains und anstrengendem Gekreische. Ernte 77 ziehen in DIY-Manier unbeirrt weiter ihr Ding durch und bleiben deshalb eine der eigensten Punkbands, im besten Sinne des Wortes.

*Limited to 666 copies!
*222 (randomly inserted) ‘Tartarus Red’ LPs / 222 (randomly inserted) ‘Caverns Of Baal’ Splatter LPs / 222 (randomly inserted) ‘Mephisto Black’ Black LPs!
*Deluxe Gatefold LP with exclusive scholarly liner notes by Alvin Lucia! Non-Returnable.
*Full dynamic range 2023 remasters direct from the first generation analogue master tapes! Graves to Forget.

Sometimes grim, often beautiful - this monumental anthology of knowns and unknowns, battered Opry icons and weathered regional evangelists features tales of Jilted Homicidal Rage, Loveless Bondage, Stygian Hellscapes, Rapturous Revelations and Gospel Tribulations.
Originally waxed in often penurious amounts, these Troubled Troubadours sing of Spectral Autocides, Paranormal Marionettes, Doomed Hallucinogenic Psychoses, Apocalyptic Arborists, Aquatic Defenestrations and Cadaverous Transmigrations.

Years in the making – ‘Hillbillies In Hell: A Chrestomathy’ walks the uncanny valley, crosses the rivers of regret and conquers the mountains of madness - a midnight clutch of Brazen Satanic Torments, Treacherous Bloody Lovers, Unquiet Infanticidal Voids, Drug-Fuelled Delusions, the Creator’s Boundless Sight and God’s Blazing, Eternal Light.
A dank, derelict crypt of marginal 45s - some of these sides are impossibly rare and are reissued here for the very first time.

All for your primordial listening pleasure.

Puckered with ruggedly pointillist swagger and evoking discrete worlds hidden in plain sight, »Traditional Music of South London« is a riveting masterwork by experimental music’s distinctive and cherished modernist, Dale Cornish. It is a concrète grimoire of recent and ancient folklore that binds Dale’s music, lyrics, and background into a strikingly personal synecdoche of South London.

Since emerging as part of London’s shouty electroclash movement in the mid ‘00s, and assuming the role of deconstructed rave pioneer and poet in 2011, Dale Cornish has been (lo)key to new movements in electronic music’s underbelly for the best part of this century. His 12th LP, proper, »Traditional Music of South London« is Dale’s definitive record; a confident testament to artistic maturity that comes with doing your thing against the grain over decades, and a potent expansion on ideas chiselled during his run of releases with the inspirational (now sadly defunct) label, Entr’acte, who helped foster Dale’s explorations of concrète rave and industrial pop tropes during the ‘10s.

On one level the album reads as a deep topography or psychosexual-geography of London’s lost gay club haunts, with the meat-motoring deep house of ‘Great Storm’ recalling DJ Sprinkles taking Loefah to the darkroom in its concrète carved and flesh trembling 8:08 perfection; or more literally in »Foxhole«, with Dale’s deliciously Croydon-toned accent describing urban gay mythologies with pungent lyrics about rotten fox cadavers synced to drily ricocheting hand claps, while the tight swinge of his “requiem for all the dead gay venues” in the gut-level bass of »Hoist Crash Fort«, and the playful evocation of “internecine conflict within the gays - live!” on »Palace Intrigue« just utterly slap like nothing else.

Yet it’s in the LP’s slower, bloozier and folky vocal bits that Dale’s dare- to-differ character comes into its own. The clandestine skulk of ‘My Geography’ portrays him like a modern Jandek traversing London’s brutalist- meets-semi rural meridian, and at its gooier core flashes of folk-classical brilliance such as the groggy ‘Norman Lewis’ give way to the writhing foley orgy of »Crowd Scene«, while the naked, one-take end of szn paean of »SCY BFR HNH« and slurred, Tricky-esque confessional »Shout Outs« consolidate and temper the conflicting aspects of his persona with a deep burning pathos in the LP’s fading phosphorescence.

In an era of overproduction and imitation-not-innovation, Dale’s strikingly original, sensually brutalist industro-folk-dance-pop critically cocks a snook at conventional, careerist music while embracing its heartical truths. An extremely personal record certain to resonate with those who believe art in music still matters.

New one by Montreal singer-songwriter Deb Edison, working once again as The Submissives and willfully unchanged from 2016's Do You Really Love Me? cassette (Fixture). Six years into the most tumultuous period in global history since WWII – a pandemic, right-wing infiltration, attempts at government overthrow, climate catastrophe looming, a near-complete loss of the moral compass, conspiracies lording over facts natural resources running out – and Deb's still here, staring a hole through the floor/your head. "No one ever changes," she coos on "In a Pinch," and these songs are a textbook example of that sentiment, and her artistic embodiment of psychosexual desire, ready to shatter some lives and walk away looking for the next one. "I'm waiting for your signal/I'm several years older," she drones on "Sick Kinda Love," further reinforcing a long-held stance that the obsession, internalization of feelings, and the human power dynamic of The Submissives are on the menu once again. You'll find whatever it is you want to find in here, just dig in. Deb might even be talking about you, though there's a good chance she's not, and if you don't have the goods you can be sure she's gonna be doing all she can to passively drive you away. "Chirp Like a Bird" reads as Deb's bottom-looking-up retort to Whitehouse's "Wriggle Like a Fucking Eel," and might even be more severe, because she doesn't need microphonic feedback and screaming to intimidate. If you're in for surface thrills, scrape up the Shaggs-esque rock stumble, swooping viola, and behind-the-beat bash tapping out each of these eleven tracks. This is how it is; you get what you get, and you might be upset, but that's all on you. You'll never get to the bottom of this sketch. TRACKLIST: A1 Wanna be your thing A2 When it was all new A3 In a pinch A4 Sick kinda love A5 Chirp like a bird A6 I'm a mirror B1 Goodbye Betty B2 Four five B3 Isn't you B4 Think of me B5 Sweetly

Lasse Marhaug is one of those characters that operates at the nexus of so much stuff that’s important to us here - working as a producer (over the last couple of years alone he’s helped shape albums by Jenny Hval, Kelly Lee Owens, Okkyung Lee, Hillary Woods etc etc), a mastering engineer (far too many releases to mention), a prolific sleeve designer (likewise), publisher (his occasional Personal Best magazine is still going strong) and, perhaps most importantly - a recording artist in his own right. ‘Context’ is his most substantial release in years - a crushing assembly of bone-dry/darkside drone/machine malfunctions that’s bursting with a visceral, throbbing, mass of feeling. If yr into anything on the spectrum from Mika Vainio to Grouper to Kevin Drumm or Deathprod - this one’s as good as it gets

Over almost three decades of activity, Marhaug has carved out notoriety as a solo performer, a prolific collaborator (working with everyone from Sunn O))) to Jim O'Rourke) and as a busy producer, who's notched up credits on some of the most striking-sounding albums of the last few years. This new album was created as a swan song for the infamous Oslo studio that he's inhabited for 17 years, prior to his move back to the Arctic Circle where he originally came from. Recorded over a 14-month period and painstakingly edited from hours upon hours of material, it might just be the most impressive, moving record we’ve heard from him so far.

The interplay between piercing softness and deafening noise is the key to "Context", displaying a philosophy Marhaug has been exploring for years. Few other artists are able to balance chaos and harmony with such ease; Marhaug does it without grandstanding, it's music that sounds as simultaneously beautiful and as daunting as the Arctic landscape he's returning to. At any moment a sound can be alluring or treacherous, like the frozen sun reflecting on a snowy mountaintop. Marhaug's deftness with rhythm and bass emerges on 'Context 3', as he pairs Vainio-esque low-end pulses with crumpled noise and widescreen tones; as disquieting music-box chimes absorbed into the blasted soundscape on 'Context 5', while we're thrust into the freezing cold on 'Context 6', subjected to punctuating gusts of white noise and trapped string loops.

Trust it’s a rare and near-mythical beast, conjuring vast, treacherous soundscapes illuminated with pangs of sentiment that naturally weave strands of his non-musical practice in their psychosensual lustre and gritty attrition. As he steps into a new phase of his career, we're left with a concluding chapter that stands as a summation and open-ended post-credits reveal.

Eighteen sacred psychedelic suppositories from the laboratory of mad scientist and scalpel-happy pop mutilator Jean-Pierre Massiera. Includes
the rarest and most sought after fuzz funk, spooked surf and
interplanetary prog from ‘The French Joe Meek’ and all his schizoid splitpersonalities and freakish friends - The Maledictus Sound, Chico
Magnetic Band, Visitors, Human Egg, The Pirhana Sound and Jesus
himself.

 Let Finders Keepers introduce you to some old friends of theirs - Charlie Mike Sierra, Jean-Pierre Areisam, JPM and Co. Erik, The Horrific Child, Jesus, Les Maledictus Sound, Human Egg... This might sound like they’re flicking through the imaginary LP racks in the record shop from ‘A Clockwork Orange’ or perhaps congratulating the runners up in a
Halloween fancy dress competition but for the previously uninitiated you
have just been ordained into the congregation of the many split
personalities of one Mr. Jean-Pierre Bernard Massiera. Bow down to the
nine-headed monster as he mutates and shape-shifts back through time
to his humble beginnings in a Buenos Aires province ravaging and
pillaging the music of the European people for his own twisted
benediction along the way.

 This might, as intended, sound a little bit dramatic but if there is one
single ingredient that gives the eccentric Jean-Pierre Massiera his
distinct flavour it’s a large dollop of drama. Add sprinklings of
schizophrenia, shock, myth and macabre and you are on the way to a Bmovie broth with an acquired taste that has, like all the best cheese,
taken over thirty years to mature to perfection. Like all the best monsters,
his split personality is the key to his infamy and the secret of his blood
sucking success.

 This is why Jean-Pierre Massiera is (un)commonly known for two key
periods in his career which, like a worm, can be split down the middle to
thrive and flourish independently. To cut a long story short, Massiera is,
above all, a lover and purveyor of musique fantastique, and is willing and
able to hijack whichever stylistic vehicle that passes him buy in order to
do feed his lust. In the earlier part of his career he honed his sordid craft
amongst psychedelic circles in Nice and Quebec. From late 1972
onwards he moved to Antibes and started a disco revolution and
became an in demand cosmic record producer. For years, prog rock
obsessives and disco aficionados have wondered if there was two
unrelated freak merchants called Jean-Pierre Massiera but, in this rare
instance, exploito-maniacs from both sides of the cosmic coin are united
by the work of this singular, single-handed monstrous music
manufactory.

 Remastered and available once again on deluxe black vinyl since the
initial Finders Keepers limited edition 2009 pressing

LP, 150 copies with screen printed artwork Behind Teahouse Radio is Pär Boström… a Swedish ambient musician, visual artist, label/publishing house owner. Together with his sister (also musical partner in crime) he runs the label/publishing house Hypnagoga Press. Most of his music projects are released on this label. But his work has also already found its way to well known labels such as Cyclic Law and Cryo Chamber. Teahouse Radio is one of the many projects by Pär Boström and most lo-fi and to my ears the most melancholy… and thus fitting Vrystaete very well… In 2018 the debut album (and only album so far) “Her Quiet Garden” was released on CD in an edition of 100 copies on Hypnagoga Press. Here (and below) you have a really nice video on the process of the music and artwork being created… The songs themselves were composed from 2004 onwards with intervals and recorded in a few days during late summer 2016. This 2LP vinyl edition of “Her Quiet Garden” captures the delicate, fragile and minimalist soundscapes very well… and features three additional pieces from the same sessions which were never released before… Expect acoustic instruments that are blended with electronic equipment, forming a sombre ambient music of tinkling tape loops and humming pedal drones… like Gurdjieff meets Eno in some sort of way… And… it is also a very personal album and any listener who sits back and pays true attention will witness and experience this. This is what the musician himself says about the album: An album about summer houses and winter towers, about the changing of weather. How one feeling changes to another. The loss of a loved cat. A real garden becoming an imaginary garden. Depression as a pond. Years of therapy and music as the main counterpoint. About escapism. Psychoses. A giant who walked in and out of the world, decorating it nicely. An aural tale. Half in water, another half in the northern woods. Childhood through nostalgic binoculars. A wardrobe to another place, a gentle knock on the door in the oak tree.

Dark, psychosexual electronics lurk between the teeth of Ester Kärkkäinen, the Las Vegas based artist also known as Himukalt. For the past six years, she has tirelessly pursued an avenue of bleak industrial productions that parallel the extremist works of Genocide Organ and Atrax Morgue. She has built a considerable reputation for uncompromising, full-frontal noise, releasing albums on Total Black, Malignant Records, Found Remains, and Foul Prey, amongst others. Between My Teeth was originally a cassette which came out in 2018 as a tiny edition on the Greek imprint Several Minor Promises and sold out immediately upon release. Himukalt returns to The Helen Scarsdale Agency with the necessary reissue of Between My Teeth as a vinyl edition with expanded artwork.

The album is a maelstrom of ill-tempered noise and blackened frequencies, sutured to a foundation of primitive, raw rhythms. Kärkkäinen cuts up her own voice with the digital equivalent of a rusted razor blade through her proclamations of misery, rage, and desire. The albums' opening track "Cataclysm" a turgid industrial production with Kärkkäinen adopting two distinct voices that, while they remain mostly indecipherable in content, the context presumes an inevitable, catastrophic and emotionally violent collapse in the relationship between two people. A tense rhythm clicks below the full spectrum bursts of harsh noise on "She Went Mad" followed by the smoldering power electronic moves of "I No Longer Belong" and "Not Proper." And the death disco groove of "Mine" is far more hellish than danceable through its scalded distortion and Kärkkäinen's vocal mantras about bodily self-loathing.

Another bold, declarative album in the ever impressive Himukalt discography. Remastered by James Plotkin and features a 12 page booklet of Kärkkäinen's signature collaged xerography.