Suche:smell the da i s y

The follow-up to 2024’s "Perpetual Eden" sees Bloody Head stretch out and capture the cosmic sprawl of their live gigs on record. Available on limited-edition LP with spot-varnished sleeve.
After finding their Perpetual Eden and then seeing it violently retrograde, Bloody Head return with a new transmission devoted to the pendulum’s swing and the big wheel’s turn.
The big wheel turns and the seasons turn and we turn and it all just keeps on spinning away… elliptic, off kilter, centres not holding, the whole merry-go-round whirling and dissolving and coagulating, perpetually.
The CHILDREN OF THE DUSK and the sundry weirdoes and creeps depicted on the cover painting, channelled by Danny Roberts 777, all spinning and singing and sinning as they rattle along… in some sort of strange, discordant VIBRATORY AFFINITY with themselves/each other/it all.
Stay a while and take the time to BEND DOWN AND KISS THE GROUND/smell the roses/find your Eden, in and amongst the nooks and cracks and crannies and in the thin, strange places.
TIME AS VEILED ETERNITY is a microcosm of the whole merry Shambala, pushing and pulling and coming together and falling apar
Recorded, mixed and mastered by James Atkinson at the Stationhouse, Leeds. The session almost kiboshed by Storm Éowyn. A sprawling mass/mess which oozes and lurches from bloody minded heaviness to meditative reflection to unsettling delirium and back again, ending in total sonic breakdown. More focused and restrained, more reckless and chaotic. There is No time, to every season some sort of purpose.

Zeitkratzer director Reinhold Friedl and his ensemble present new compositions, grounded on Domenico Scarlatti's piano sonata F-minor K.466. Commissioned by the dance company Rubato and dedicated to Mario Bertoncini (1932-2019).

Little is known about Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757). His music is, so to speak, left to its own devices: free, cheeky, playful, sonorous, surprising. Harmonically strolling again and again into unforeseen regions, the ear leads, not the theory; and also the fingers get their right: playful and haptic it goes. Scarlatti explained, "since nature has given me ten fingers and my instrument provides employment for all, I see no reason why I should not use all ten of them."

Freedom, friction and listening pleasure instead of convention: "He knew quite well that he had disregarded all the rules of composition in his piano pieces, but asked whether his deviation from the rules offended the ear? He believes there is almost no other rule than that of not offending the only sense whose object is music - the ear."

Reinhold Friedl applied this principle and composed the music for a choreography by dance company Rubato. Dance music drawn from Scarlatti, who was so inspired by dance music. The material of the piano sonata F-minor K.466 is twisted anew in all its richness, shifted back and forth, declined, frozen, noisified, sound structures extracted, floating. Those who know the sonata, will more than smell it’s shadows. Dedicated to Mario Bertoncini (Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza) who was particularly fond of K.466, on which all the music presented here is grounded.

"Wild flowers", Barbara Zubers had once called Scarlatti's music. Let them bloom.

Arepas Records follows up its debut serving with a second course of flavoursome house music: “Ceylon Treats EP” by Erwin. True to the Arepas concept of combining dancefloor functionality with culinary storytelling, “Ceylon Treats EP” is all about mood, texture and pacing rather than obvious peaks. Erwin’s production leans on warm basslines, rolling drum programming and hazy chords, spiced with percussive details and small melodic phrases that flicker through the mix like passing smells from an open kitchen. Some moments are cosy and intimate, others are more driving and hypnotic, but everything is tied together by a deep, inviting groove that works from warm-up to after-hours. AREPAS002 feels like a natural evolution of the label’s first chapter: still deep, still soulful, still obsessed with flavour, just with a new recipe and different ingredients. House, deep house, dub house and tech house come together in one coherent, story-driven EP that rounds off the flow of a day, night or early morning like a carefully prepared dessert course. No skips, no fillers. Just pure flavour. Beats & treats.

END[GER] Die Band Wednesday aus Asheville, North Carolina errichtet im Laufe der zehn Songs von "Rat Saw God" einen Schrein voller aufregender Details: Halb lustige, halb tragische Botschaften aus den Südstaaten, die sich klanglich irgendwo zwischen dem wimmernden Skuzz von Neunzigerjahre-Shoegaze und klassischem Country-Twang entfalten - mit verzerrter Pedal Steel und Frontfrau Karly Hartzman, die mit ihrer Stimme, den Lärm durchschneidet. Ein Song von Wednesday ist wie ein Quilt. Eine Kurzgeschichtensammlung, eine verschwommene Erinnerung, ein Flickenteppich aus Porträts des amerikanischen Südens, der disparate Momente einfängt und als Ganzes doch irgendwie einen Sinn ergibt. Karly Hartzman, die Songschreiberin, Sängerin, Gitarristin und Leiterin der Band, ist eine Geschichtensammlerin als auch eine Geschichtenerzählerin: Eine aufmerksame Beobachterin von Menschen und witzigen Bemerkungen. "Rat Saw God", das neue und beste Album des Quintetts aus Asheville, ist ekphrastisch, aber ebenso autobiografisch und vor allem sehr einfühlsam. Es wurde in den Monaten unmittelbar nach der Fertigstellung von dem zweiten Album der Band, "Twin Plagues", geschrieben und innerhalb einer Woche im Drop Of Sun Studio in Asheville aufgenommen. Die Songs auf "Rat Saw God" erzählen keine Epen, sondern das Alltägliche. Sie sind lebensnah, erzählen vom wahren Leben, sie sind verschwommen und chaotisch und seltsam zugleich - was Hartzmans eigenem Ethos entspricht: "Everyone's story is worthy. Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Mutant, in partnership with Back Lot Music, are proud to present the physical media debut of Universal Pictures’ Jurassic World Rebirth Original Motion Picture Soundtrack with music by two-time Grammy® and Academy Award®-winning composer Alexandre Desplat.



To create the score for Jurassic World Rebirth, director Gareth Edwards turned to a distinguished friend, two-time Oscar® winner Alexandre Desplat (The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Shape of Water), who worked with Edwards on Godzilla. “I feel very fortunate to be doing the music for a movie franchise like this, which entertained me so greatly, as a filmgoer, for decades,” Desplat says. “I dreamed of writing music for movies like this since I was a teenager, and now, here I am,” he adds with a laugh, “part of Jurassic World, almost a teenager.”



Rebirth represents the second time that Desplat has stepped into a franchise and inherited and adapted iconic musical motifs written by an artist he considers his “forever idol,” the legendary John Williams: Desplat previously took on that challenge with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Parts 1 and 2. “John Williams wrote a fantastic melody for Jurassic Park that I now get to reinvent, rejigger and resculpt in ways benefit our movie,” Desplat says. “My desire was not to quote John’s score bluntly but subtly echo it or make use of it in the original score I have written for the film in playful and meaningful ways.”



"Continuing in the legacy of composers like John Williams, Don Davis, and Michael Giacchino - Alexandre Desplat brings the action packed Jurassic World: Rebirth to life with equal parts bombast, and tenderness." says Mo Shafeek, co-founder of Mutant. "Beautiful piano melodies give reprieve from thundering percussion, in this beautiful and essential addition to the Jurassic franchise.”

Die frühen Achtzigerjahre waren für den härteren Rock aus Deutschland eine ganz besondere Zeit. Der ausufernde Progressive Rock und der sogenannte Krautrock waren am Ausklingen, der Punk musste dem New Wave weichen und der Heavy Metal begann Fahrt aufzunehmen.

Einige Bands saßen zwischen 1980 und 1983 zwischen den Stühlen und können gar als „das fehlende Glied“ bezeichnet werden. In diesem Boxset
befinden sich gleich drei Schmuckstücke und Geheimtipps, die heute sogar aufregender klingen als damals. REQUIEM kamen aus Stuttgart
und lieferten auf ihrer einzigen LP einen Mix aus Hardrock, Pomprock und Progressive Rock. Gitarrist Tommy Clauss wurde später mit Bands wie ZAR
berühmt, bei denen auch ex-Uriah Heep Sänger John Lawton dabei war.

SPHINX ist eine andere Geschichte, denn hier haben ein paar italienische Gastarbeitersöhne im Raum Stuttgart eine Band gegründet. So wurde
das Debüt „Here We Are“ vom Label als „Made In Italy“ verkauft, was natürlich nur eine Verkaufsstrategie war. SPHINX nehmen das voraus,
was uns Jahre später unter Anderem Dream Theater lieferten. Eine frühe Version des Prog Metal, oder ein Vorläufer davon. Das gleiche Album wurde
von einem anderen Label 1985 als „Burning Lights“ erneut ins Rennen geschickt; dieses Mal mit einem Heavy Metal-tauglichem Coverartwork.
LIMERICK aus Saarbrücken haben als Schülerband 1980 eine heute sehr rare Single aufgenommen. Das einzige Album erschien dann 1983 – mit
deutschen Texten! Regional war der kräftige Rock mit Dialekt im Gesang sehr erfolgreich und spielte Shows mit Kim Wilde und Climax Blues Band.
Die Gruppe ist heute wieder aktiv und wurde kürzlich im Magazin Rock Hard gefeatured

Skkkrt! Step Ball Chain is officially running redlights and disregarding road rules with Anderson in the driver’s seat. The US born, Berlin based producer and deejay offers up Cut The Breaks, a 5 track EP bursting at the seams with ruff, tuff and techy freakouts, never neglecting the groove. Transcending genre, the low key king of the underground reaches into new realms sprinkling in electro, tech house and bouncy techno with a nod and a wink to hip hop.

Sleek & sexy; the opening title track is as fresh as it gets, a soldering of prize elements from different electronic ecosystems. Whiplash drums and vocal chops that weave their way through the record, also cropping and popping up on the B Side. Pedal to the metal for Giving it All and Visconti Bounce; playfully traversing dancefloors with tongue & cheek turboness and rhythmic exploration that will drive you wild. Smell the rubber burn for STEP15; let Anderson strap you in and take the wheel.

More than a decade after his last full album, Kim Hiorthøy returns with Ghost Note, released by the Belgian label Blickwinkel. Though his music has quietly existed in the background—shaping contemporary dance, film, and theatre—this album brings it into focus once more. Ghost Note is an exploration of sound on the edge of presence and absence, a fictional world that is both constructed and organic.

Using mostly digital technology, Hiorthøy created a set of instruments that are real—you can hear them, they have tone, timbre, and resonance—but also not. The percussion, for instance, sounds like cheap scrap metal drums. But are they real? Do they exist? Hiorthøy plays with perception, challenging what feels real and what feels like a memory. In doing so, Ghost Note becomes an invitation to embrace uncertainty and indefinability.

“It's a kind of foggy area between theatre and daily life. Ghost notes. I wanted to try to make music that existed in this in-between space. Electronic music that is acoustic, a kind of emotional music that also hides in abstraction (or the other way around), and to try to make tracks that were sort of falling apart as I was making them.” ­- Kim Hiorthøy

Hot summer rain hits the cracked pavement in uneven rhythms. A neon sign flickers above a café that never seems to close, its warm white light reflected in the wet ground like a fever dream. The air smells of summer and the world hums with an easy tone, as if the city itself is holding its breath. A light flooded film noir-ish scene, that needs a soundtrack like "POOL JAMS", the new album of INIT, the Berlin based duo, that already caused quite a stir with their albums for Hivern Discs and Optimo Music. This time, they bring their latest creations out on R.i.O. - a label, with whom they are deeply associated. Their fourth longplayer is a playful one. One that brings trip hopping feelings. That has r'n'b grace, without catering regular trademarks of the genre. Dub, trance, drone, is all there too. Yet, nothing is present in pure definition. Rather suggested, interwoven, or newly twisted in a songwriting style, that haunts and seduces. On top the voice of Nadia D'Alò dances, steps and hums tempting to the grooves she created with her partner in crime Benedikt Frey. Together they fashioned a record, that, as INIT puts it, is "some kind of old photo from an old dry empty pool that got faded by sunlight ". A dreamy, sunny piece of song art, made for endless smoky LA freeway drives, and other adventures that seek for infinite riddance. You can dream it. You can trance it. You can't escape it, as soon as it rotates in your dream device for sound and vision.

The Sexy Drugs bezeichnen ihre Musik augenzwinkernd als "Hard Nipple Power Pop". Damit wollen sie unterstreichen, dass sie ihren punkigen Rock gerne mit Popmelodien würzen. Ihre bewegte Geschichte begann bereits Anfang 2001 im Fillmore in Kaiserslautern. Nach einigen Besetzungswechseln und drei Studioalben unterschrieb die Band Ende 2024 bei Barhill Records. Dort erscheint "Reckless Memories", das erste The Sexy Drugs-Album, das als Quartett entstanden ist. Mit diesem konnten sie auch erstmals ihre Live-Energie einfangen und auf ein Album bannen. "Reckless Memories" ist ein Album über verpasste Chancen, alte Gefühle und neue Schwierigkeiten und Probleme. Es handelt von all diesen Hochs und Tiefs in unserem Leben. Es ging den vier Musikern darum, als Band zu wachsen, obwohl zeitgleich die Welt zu kollabieren scheint. Eskapismus als letzte Chance. Oder anders gesagt: Rock'n'roll ist die Antwort. Zumindest teilweise. Und Liebe sowieso. Mehr Liebe, weniger Hass.

Sterling Drake continues his run of his rustic and authentic Country & Western music with "The Shape I'm In." It's hard to find authentic Western music these days but Sterling Drake clearly lives these songs. Sterling Drake sings songs of the lifestyle he knows as he devotes time to ranching and conservation. The heartbreak, the longing, the loneliness - it's all there in the grooves of this LP. Close your eyes while you listen to this one and you can smell the campfire and feel the big Montana sky above you. A modern Country & Western classic.

The deadbeat Danish duo return to serenade us with their signature sound of fuzzed-out garage-rock guitars, falsetto vocal supremacy, and an unyielding rhythm section. Gabestok find themselves lodged at the pinch point between the grandiose and the garage, crafting songs that are at once eminently epic yet raw and direct. Alle Dør I Fremtiden is a road trip into oblivion, always accelerating toward some unknown precipice until inevitably driving you over the edge. Laying in the wreckage of an old car smelling of stale cigarettes and beer you wonder what happened, then flip the record and start again.
A short conceptual album steeped in hopelessness, regression, power, and the almighty battle against mob mentality in the wake of advancing technology and knowledge. Set amidst a geomagnetic storm on a desolate, scorched Earth, we follow an obsessive collector who has amassed a vast physical repository of lost knowledge now esoteric in an era of hard drives and remote storage. Books, piles of papers, and artefacts are all locked away in his private Citadel, far removed from a population of spiritless people, trapped within their own thought-prisons, fiercely guarded by corporate algorithms.
Fire and flames come in many disguises and eventually We All Die in the Future.

“Growing up has always been a solitary journey, marked by forward-looking anticipation, anxiety, unripe potential, aspirations, and closures.”

London based Chinese composer and multi-instrumentalist Li Yilei returns to Métron Records with NONAGE, their second full length release following 2021’s OF. An introspective reflection on the journey through childhood, this new work brings together samples from old Chinese TV shows, mechanical children’s toys and an array of acoustic and electronic instruments - some of which were designed and built by Li themselves.

The Chinese title for "NONAGE" is "垂髫", which translates to “childhood” or “disheveled hair”, and refers to the carefree phase of life when children let their hair down, both figuratively and literally. For Li, nonage is a place that they always revisit - to learn about fear and fearlessness, love and despair, grief and glee, curiosity and mistakes.

“I remember pressing piano keys like touching flowers, reading scores like looking at paintings, writing like how I would talk to myself, greeting death like how I would greet life.”

Initially conceived as an archiving project, the record retraces and reimagines fractions of Li’s childhood memories through smell, location and colour, and brings to life the lingering feelings that remain into adulthood.

Compositions are built around a variety of unusual sources: damaged instruments such as a toy piano, a hand cranked music box, bird whistles, a broken accordion and anything else Li could find that evoked nascent recollections. Interspersed throughout are samples from Li’s childhood piano jams, moments of contemplative transmigration where previous incarnations of self and memory meet the present.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Second volume of tributes from Kutmah.
A beat tape for the brotha from anotha planet, the most high Ras G & the Afrikan Space Program
All beats by Kutmah / Cover Photos By Kevin Ramos

Second volume of tributes from Kutmah.
A beat tape for the brotha from anotha planet, the most high Ras G & the Afrikan Space Program
All beats by Kutmah / Cover Photos By Kevin Ramos

Revolution Rock Deluxe vereint das bahnbrechende erste Album von Greenleaf mit ihrer lange vergriffenen Debüt-EP in einer einzigen atemberaubenden Neuauflage! Angeführt von Gitarrist Tommi Holappa von den europäischen Wüstenrock-Ikonen Dozer, begannen Greenleaf als informelles Kollektiv von Freunden, die Musik machten, inspiriert von ihrer gemeinsamen Liebe zum Riff-Rock der 70er Jahre. Nachdem sie sich 2013 in eine richtige Band verwandelt haben, stehen Greenleaf jetzt an der Spitze der globalen Heavy-Szene, nachdem sie ihr letztes Album The Head & The Habit 2024 veröffentlicht haben. Im fünfundzwanzigsten Jahr ihrer unglaublichen Karriere markieren sie diese beeindruckende Leistung mit einer speziellen Neuauflage ihrer frühesten Veröffentlichungen. Mit Jungs von Dozer, Lowrider, Demon Cleaner und anderen wurde Greenleafs erstes Album Revolution Rock 2001 in Eigenregie veröffentlicht und seit der ursprünglichen Auflage von 500 Exemplaren noch nie neu aufgelegt. Revolution Rock Deluxe vereint dieses bahnbrechende Album mit der lange vergriffenen Debüt-EP von Greenleaf aus dem Jahr 2000 in einer einzigen, atemberaubenden Ausgabe. Alle Songs wurden von Karl Daniel Lidén komplett neu gemastert und das ursprüngliche Artwork und Design von Lowriders Peder Bergstrand brillant aufgefrischt und aktualisiert.Feiern wir ein Vierteljahrhundert majestätischer Riffs mit Revolution Rock Deluxe und erleben Greenleafs Big Bang zum ersten Mal wieder! Präsentiert in einer luxuriösen, aufklappbaren 2LP-Edition auf limitiertem farbigen Vinyl oder als Einzel-CD im Digipack. Alle Songs wurden vollständig neu gemastert und die Verpackung und das Design aktualisiert und aufgefrischt. Eine der aktivsten und beliebtesten Bands der europäischen Stoner-/Desert-Rock-Szene

"Bloodshot Bill, the Canadian hickup rockabilly Trash LoFi King of One-Man-Bands meets Gerard Van Herk from the legendary Deja Voodoo duo to create music that comes direct out of a rotten crypt and smells like an obscure trashed up rock'n'roll bad-ass delinquent." -VVR Bloodshot Bill ist eine Ein-Mann-Band aus Quebec in Kanada. Keine Computer, keine Overdubs, einfach nur seine Gitarre mit Kickdrum und ein Hi-Hat, 2020 war er Gewinner von ,Ameripolitan Rockabilly Male Of The Year". Bloodshot Bill sei ,wie Roy Orbison mit einer Kopfverletzung", sagt Reg isseur John Waters. Er hat in den letzten 20 Jahren eine Menge Musik veröffentlicht (Norton, Goner, Squoodge etc und wurde auf Platz 8 der Top 10 Rock-Gitarristen des Vintage Rock Magazine gewählt. Gerard Van Herk, Gründer und Frontmann des legendären Duos Deja Voodoo aus Montreal in Kanada, veröffentlichte seit 1981 viele Platten auf u.a Midnight Records oder What Wave. Sie waren Pioniere in Kanada und schufen ihr eigenes Musikgenre Slugabilly. 2024 trafen sich die zwei Musiker und nahmen die vier Songs dieser EP auf. ,Shot of Blood" und ,Crawl" von Gerard Van Herk sowie ,She said no" und ,Shish Taouk" von Bloodshot Bill. Die Tracks gingen verloren und es wurde nur eine dünne MP3 gefunden die dann von Matt von den Ouside Inside Studios versucht wurde wiederherzustellen. Hören Sie selbst!!!

2023 Repress

Robag Wruhme, working on the material. On the very same piece. And performing two different movements. First, thinking in category Album: who will hear it where? also: mood, position, length. Second, thinking in category Maxisingle: a spinning-tool for the club – another form of another functionality: accelerating the rhythm, lowering the harmonicmelodious, still preserving the nature of the song. And each version should make you HOT for the other!
Nata Alma, a voice loses itself in the infinite, a car brakes, a horse whinnies, the sun scorches relentless. Further, further on, towards the flickering, stoically. Water, flames on the horizon, Fata Morgana, a mirage. »And you might say, we've got no place to go?« - okay? no notokay at all!: Shuffle!
Nata Alma, melancholic Eight-minute-forty. A love song, a wave good-bye: »And you might say, that you need me no more?« sings Sidsel Endresen alongside Bugge Wesseltoft's swells and ebb-aways – metal never sounded so longing; a buzzing swing, a siren call from afar.
Robag Wruhme takes a seat at the organ and plays minor bass notes. He gets up, leaves the room and lays down a dry rock of funk: wooden kick on wooden snare, tight-cut voices, driving hi-hats and shakers, gated synth danglers and percussion loops. Relentless, stoically. »And you might say, that it's over?« – relentless, maybe, but that's how he creates the Further: keep going! dance it off! a new day rising!
And right here. Flip it and keep on moving: Venq Tolep. A summer meadow, grass-stains, a gentle breeze, an early smell of hay. Venq Tolep. Endorphins tickle under the skin. A
percussive spectacle, dance of the insects. Hopping around in flat shoes, the beat is phat and reverberated by a cluster of trees. Stabs on the e-piano set in, picturing the euphoric moment when Loving-feelings walk hand-in-hand with a Hint of Melancholy.
Robag Wruhme, Nata Alma and Venq Tolep - music for dance floors, inside and outside, music for the summer, day and night, and for convertibles on the way there.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

At the end of the roughest year in their history, Ulver is proud to release their thirteenth studio album, titled Liminal Animals. Liminal Animals is permeated by the smell of disaster and documents, with deep concern, a dark and troubled place in a dark and troubled time. The cover art features The Senseless Seven, a 1911 drawing by Austin Osman Spare. Design by grand magus wolframgrafik Paschalis Zervas.

At the end of the roughest year in their history, Ulver is proud to release their thirteenth studio album, titled Liminal Animals. Liminal Animals is permeated by the smell of disaster and documents, with deep concern, a dark and troubled place in a dark and troubled time. The cover art features The Senseless Seven, a 1911 drawing by Austin Osman Spare. Design by grand magus wolframgrafik Paschalis Zervas.

Cindy Lee, Arthur Russell, Viagra Boys, On-U Sound. In the discourse around new albums from singular, world-building artists, the phrase “a big step forward” can often be a blinking red warning sign. You know you’re about to be pulled somewhere new against your will. Inertia is a hell of a thing. It’s nice here. Surely, the party’s not over yet? JJULIUS’ Vol. 3 album is a big step forward, or a step up, out of the murky basement of the preceding two volumes. There’s no time to acclimate. A spindly violin grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the pastoral bounce of “Brinna ut,” which, in spite of its meaning (“Burn out”), creates the kind of blind positivity and warm stomach feeling less cynical people might find in self-help seminars. For us, we have records like this. And, inertia be damned, Vol. 3 has charm like a balm. JJULIUS records have always arrived like meteors from another planet, an impression hammered home by the fact that they’re titled like compendiums of artifacts. And while Vols. 1 and 2 carried that notable tinge of darkness, Vol. 3 has (almost!) cast that shadow, adding elements of disco (“Dödsdisco”) and dream-pop (“Etopisk hallucination”) to his forever favorites Arthur Russell, African Head Charge, and The Fall. Some of that new car smell could be attributed to a change in process. Each song was written over beats played by Tor Sjödén of the wild-eyed Stockholm group Viagra Boys, beats that were themselves inspired by tracks from the likes of Patrick Cowley, CAN, Count Ossie, Black Devil Disco Club and others that Julius would send to him as inspiration. Unless you’re Mark E. Smith, fervor fades. Eventually we all crave a lie down in some nice grass, a few minutes to gaze at the sky and wonder if everything is actually all that bad. Vol. 3 gives you 35 of those respiting minutes. “No looking back, no misery, no talking trash, no enemies.”

Bandler Ching makes a bold return from within the vibrant, Brussels music scene with their sophomore album, Mercurial. In this latest offering, the band edges even closer to the ever-evolving world of electronics and dance music while retaining the improvisational spirit that has always defined their sound at its core.
On Mercurial, the band navigates the fringes of industrial trap, while expertly bending and pushing the possibilities of their instruments. Ambroos De Schepper's saxophone transcends its traditional role even more, becoming a dynamic, shapeshifting entity capable of evoking haunting melodies one moment and otherworldly harmonies the next. Federico Pecoraro's bass transforms into ethereal ambient pads that drift through the mix like vapor, adding depth. Meanwhile, Olivier Penu's drums form the rhythmic backbone, laying down eclectic grooves that defy the constraints of any single genre, merging seamlessly from trap to electronica, hip-hop, and beyond.
Known for their ability to blend disparate genres and experiment with textures, Bandler Ching forges a new instrumental language, one that feels untethered to convention and free from classification. It's not a genre-crossing experiment-but a daring move towards a new instrumental genre in the digital age.
Fans of experimental electronic icons like Aphex Twin, Squarepusher, and Ceephax Acid Crew will find much to admire in the upcoming Mercurial album- it's a next step in pushing to a new musical territory and boldly casting off the jazz genre in the process.
It's been two years since Bandler Ching first released their debut album Coaxial on Sdban Ultra. Kicking off the album campaign with an album release show in Volta, the Brussels hotbed for a new generation of Belgian artists. What followed was a series of concerts in key venues and festivals across Belgium and the Netherlands to honorable reviews in national and specialized press.

Dies ist die zweite Auflage von The Monsters "You're Class, I'm Trash", dem noch aktuellem Monsters-Album aus dem Jahre 2021 (erste Auflage war gelb und mit einer 7" Bonus-Single). Diese zweite Auflage hat ein neues pinkfarbendes Sleeve-Design, kommt als 180g Vinyl und mit einem zweiseitig bedrucktem Insert. HI-SPEED-BOOGIE-FUZZ-GARAGE-TRASH-ROCK-N-ROLL FROM LEGENDARY BERNESE GARAGE PUNKS PLAYED WITH A CHAINSAW-ON-STEEL 13 SPLATTER HITS INCLUDING SMALL HORROR OPERA BY SWISS FILM COMPOSER MARIO BATKOVIC The Monsters wurden 1986 in Bern der Schweiz gegründet, als Alternative zur damaligen populären Musik (z. B. Disco, Pop, Top 40 Rock). Sie nannten dies "Teenage Primitive Rock n' Roll Chainsaw Massacre Garage Trash Mix up Rockabilly mit Punkrock und Garage" und haben sich zu einer gefragten Garagen-Punkrockband gemausert, die auf Festivals, in Klubs und großen Hallen so weit gen Osten wie Japan, gen Süden wie Brasilien und gen Norden zu den Skandinavier resit und dort audspielt. Sogar im so Wilden Westen wie New York City in Amerika. Und dann öffnet 2020 die Türen, YAHOO!!! Die Welt wurde komplett abgeschottet und die Pläne aller änderten sich! Da es in naher Zukunft keine Tourneen gäbe, war es jetzt an der Zeit, ein neues Album zu machen. So widmete sich die Band zwei Wochen, um ihren Proberaum aufzuräumen und neue Musik zu schreiben, und 3 Tage im Berner Shirt Off Studio um diese aufzunehmen. Voila! Hier hast du Rosemary's Baby den Knüppel aus dem Sack: 13 raue, laute und spritzig klingende Tracks, die live ohne Overdubs (nur der Gesang/das Geschrei') aufgenommen wurden. Textlich ist das Album eine komplette Katastrophe mit nicht viel mehr als 120 Wörtern, welche aneinandergereiht meistenfalls keinen Sinn ergeben! Es ist eigentlich völliger Quatsch, aber THE MONSTERS lieben es! Das Cover stammt übrigens vom Berner Surrealisten Jerry Haenggli.

Terra Utopia returns to Emotional Response with a second long-from EP / mini-LP, 10 more tracks that span the ethereal sounds of ambient, atmospheric beats and liquid drum and bass.

Originally intended as a one-off project from French producer Benoit B, Terra Utopia 1 was recorded in 2 weeks while sojourned in an Athens’ Spring. A personal dedication to a specific sound he loved.

Since the original release, a debut LP under his own name followed, before Benoit embarked on his new club orientated project Blu:sh, releasing a series of acclaimed EPs for the likes of esteemed Kalahari Oyster Club and Roza Terenzi’s Step Ball Chain label.

However, the incredibly positive feedback of the first Terra Utopia recordings led to reappraisal and return to the name and here again, a second set of 10 tracks (8 vinyl and 2 digital bonus).

Once more recorded as short pieces – cut loud for DJ play – they interconnect to feelings of intangible expanses, that embracing summer, the warmth, a latent stillness of the azure sea and sky. This invitation, a narrative forever calling, of long days, calm nights, the infinite astral plain in minds eye.

The ambience has progressed, beats crackle and snap, tracks visualise an individuality, names are anointed, with the collaboration with singer dvdv on Shadows Of Memories, a floating, mesmeric highpoint, a dreaming siren.

No fears, the children of the heat embark.

"Never Exhale" ist der Sound einer Band, die keine Atempause einlegt. DITZ sind seit der Veröffentlichung ihres ersten Albums "The Great Regression" (2023) unermüdlich auf Tour. Die Songs ihres neuesten Angebots wurden in ganz Europa geschrieben, oft an freien Tagen und in geliehenen Proberäumen. Man könnte sagen, dass die Band das Aufnehmen und Veröffentlichen von Musik als nachträglichen Einfall betrachtet. Oft spielen sie Songs Jahre vor der Veröffentlichung live und optimieren sie dabei. Die Songs auf der endgültigen Platte können sich ändern, bevor sie jemals als Teil des Albums zu hören sind.

"Never Exhale" wurde grösstenteils in den Holy Mountain Studios in London während eines eiskalten Januars aufgenommen. Der Prozess war voller Hindernisse, da der ursprüngliche Plan, in Rhode Island aufzunehmen, durch das Angebot einer Support-Tour mit IDLES aufgegeben wurde, obwohl das Album immer noch vom ursprünglich vorgesehenen Toningenieur Seth Manchester (Model/Actriz, Lingua Ignota, Big Brave) gemischt wurde. Das Ergebnis ist ein Werk, das durch den Druck seiner eigenen Entstehung gehärtet wurde. Mühsam, aber nicht geliebt.

Die Themen der LP offenbaren sich beim wiederholten Anhören. Von der Erkundung dessen, wie es wäre, seinen Einfluss auf die Welt abzuwägen, dem heiligen Petrus, unnötigem Hass und Spaltung, Altern, der Trennung des Physischen von der Realität. Es ist politisch, aber letztendlich persönlich. Mehr Genet oder Kafka als Orwell oder Huxley. Soundtechnisch hat "Never Exhale" seine Wurzeln in den üblichen DITZ-Einflüssen, klassischem Noise-Rock wie The Jesus Lizard oder Shellac oder dem stumpfen Post-Punk von The Fall, bringt aber auch frische Einflüsse ein. Der letzte Track "Britney" könnte mit Radiohead oder Mogwai verglichen werden. Insgesamt ist das neue Album eine klare Weiterentwicklung ihres Debüts. Und ein Zeichen der Dinge, die kommen werden.

"Never Exhale" ist der Sound einer Band, die keine Atempause einlegt. DITZ sind seit der Veröffentlichung ihres ersten Albums "The Great Regression" (2023) unermüdlich auf Tour. Die Songs ihres neuesten Angebots wurden in ganz Europa geschrieben, oft an freien Tagen und in geliehenen Proberäumen. Man könnte sagen, dass die Band das Aufnehmen und Veröffentlichen von Musik als nachträglichen Einfall betrachtet. Oft spielen sie Songs Jahre vor der Veröffentlichung live und optimieren sie dabei. Die Songs auf der endgültigen Platte können sich ändern, bevor sie jemals als Teil des Albums zu hören sind.

"Never Exhale" wurde grösstenteils in den Holy Mountain Studios in London während eines eiskalten Januars aufgenommen. Der Prozess war voller Hindernisse, da der ursprüngliche Plan, in Rhode Island aufzunehmen, durch das Angebot einer Support-Tour mit IDLES aufgegeben wurde, obwohl das Album immer noch vom ursprünglich vorgesehenen Toningenieur Seth Manchester (Model/Actriz, Lingua Ignota, Big Brave) gemischt wurde. Das Ergebnis ist ein Werk, das durch den Druck seiner eigenen Entstehung gehärtet wurde. Mühsam, aber nicht geliebt.

Die Themen der LP offenbaren sich beim wiederholten Anhören. Von der Erkundung dessen, wie es wäre, seinen Einfluss auf die Welt abzuwägen, dem heiligen Petrus, unnötigem Hass und Spaltung, Altern, der Trennung des Physischen von der Realität. Es ist politisch, aber letztendlich persönlich. Mehr Genet oder Kafka als Orwell oder Huxley. Soundtechnisch hat "Never Exhale" seine Wurzeln in den üblichen DITZ-Einflüssen, klassischem Noise-Rock wie The Jesus Lizard oder Shellac oder dem stumpfen Post-Punk von The Fall, bringt aber auch frische Einflüsse ein. Der letzte Track "Britney" könnte mit Radiohead oder Mogwai verglichen werden. Insgesamt ist das neue Album eine klare Weiterentwicklung ihres Debüts. Und ein Zeichen der Dinge, die kommen werden.

Maybe this warning is not really relevant. It doesn’t scare anyone anymore. We all know that what is actually hiding behind this green fence is a sweet doggy only waiting to happily greet you.

First there's Gabriel, who you probably already saw playing crazy drums (with Terrenoire, Cola Boyy…). And then there's Facundo, the magician on the synth and on his choice of shirts.

Together they are Chien Méchant: a duo made of two friends who met at the hairdresser (and in high school), and that makes you wonder if groove, rock, funk and synths could maybe coexist one more time.

The release of their first self titled EP Chien Méchant gave prominence to their first inspirations - as first releases usually do - and showed off their influences. They were at the same time trying to prove themselves but also preparing us for what is to come: the real journey.

A journey that will start next January with Métamorphose. A first album that will display a cast smelling like leather, like a John Carpenter movie with GrandMarnier (Yelle) directing, Ouai Stéphane on the mix and of course Gabriel & Facundo taking a twisted pleasure in deconstructing our common preconception on pop music.

Métamorphose has many shapes - don’t forget a dog can have 3 heads. The track “Nuit Blanche” reminds us of our dancefloor trances. “Sens Contraire” is a drum/synth ballad that takes us by the hand and slowly whispers in our ear that it is ok to be anxious. “Point Final” is pretty self explanatory and makes us feel like we are back on the dancefloor saying “ok this is the last one”. There are ten tracks on this album that will be released alongside their label - Nowadays Records.

You will quickly understand that Chien Méchant is a live band. You will dream about these drums, these blinking synths, these psychedelic carpets, and about dancing without thinking about what’s next. But beware, Métamorphose also reminds us that they are way more than that.

When a musician with the extreme technique, versatility, and immense sensitivity of Gabriel Grossi sets out to rediscover new paths for songs deeply ingrained in the emotional memory of diverse generations, one thing is certain: beyond surprising the audience, he can easily enchant the original artists themselves by revealing musical possibilities they never imagined. That"s exactly what happens when we listen to the Gabriel Grossi Quartet"s album "Re-Disc-Cover" - each track brings a fresh surprise. Internationally recognised as one of the greatest harmonica players in the world, Gabriel and his quartet take us on a completely original journey through absolute classics of pop rock from the "60s, "70s, "80s, and "90s, reinventing true gems of universal music. "Re-Disc-Cover" unfolds across various "R"s": reinterpretation, reinvention, rediscovery, remembering, resignification, reharmonization, rearrangement.

Highly regarded as a former resident at Salon Des Amateurs at his native Düsseldorf, Tolouse Low Trax/Detlef Weinrich has carved one of the most distinctive sounds in contemporary leftfield club music thanks to his deeply unusual grooves and hypnotic arrangements over the past 15 years as a solo artist.
Fung Day is his first album with entirely new material since Leave me alone which was released through Bureau B in 2022. Fung Day was written and recorded over the course of two years, slowly mutating and progressing from one state to another. Mixed, produced and finally mastered in Paris, his new domicile by choice.

A few words by Yvan Smagghe about Fung Day:
„He pretended he was in exile from Germany but he was a French lover like all of us; his MPC Sampler was smoking hot, an Enigma machine, an ashtray full of ghosts. I had left Paris for the same reasons he came. I could strangely relate. We’d met before he left Düsseldorf, and I knew of him through his oeuvre, his art over words (they were few) and piercing blue eyes.

He was now texting me on a night train from Warsaw going East, as in a Greene novel, asking me to go over his file. He sent me a spontaneous, fun, brave and bold record which is his new album - one that curiously smelled of mechanical grease - machinery of the soul, broken transport rhythms, samples like memories, noise at peace. Referenced yet uncoded. I don’t believe in ulterior motives and complex explanations. Not here at least. On the other hand, I do believe that works can be exposure - especially with the silent type or mistaken identities - and I knew about these too.“ - London, 2024

We’re happy to cordially invite you to the REGRESSION SESSION, hosted by eternal Philadelphia scene flag bearers ZILLAS ON ACID!

And if you think this sounds awfully lot like a scam, you’re probably right: „Regression Session“ is just a front of their illegal black market operation, trading raw uncut gems on a large scale. Just listen to the opener and title track and you won’t exactly have a strong case for the Zillas selling out, but rough as it is, this thing is capable of destroying any dancefloor it touches.

Looking at their recent releases it’s fair to say the Z’s are on quite a run, putting out music on labels like Permanent Vacation, Throne Of Blood, Multi Culti or Ivan Smagghe’s Disques de la Mort. Tunes like the sneaky rough slow burners „Underling“ or „Start Digging“ sound like they could be lifted from the latter’s infamous DJ sets, while the deceptively titled „Cha Cha Cha“ or closer „Casual Observer“ justify the „Acid“ in the artist name. „Shining Snakes Across The Lake“ is what some years might have been called a mid-tempo house roller and probably counts as downtempo these days. Speaking of tempos, the penultimate „Sweet Days Of Discipline“ starts of masquerading as reaaally downtempo, but ends up throwing 155bpm kick drums at you, so better watch out, all you k-hole ravers! Let’s not forget to talk about „bquiet“, which is what you’d call mid-tempo house these days (125bpm) and uses the eternally banging combination of a jacking beat, a polyrhythmic bass line, some lead-synth stabs and talking vocal slices. You can practically smell the sweat.

So what’s left to say? What you see is what you get: They are Zillas, and they are on Acid. And they provide a collection of eight tunes that probably each don’t necessarily have a double-digit amount of tracks in their DAW projects, and that’s exactly what makes them so forceful. Join the regression session!

Indignation Meeting are punky rail fans from Leeds. 15-year-old Peter is the driver - he's the drummer and lead singer, writes most of the songs, and also plays bass and trumpet on the album. The rest of the crew is his dad Michael on guitar, Hugo on bass, and with Keith, Heather and Sally often along for the ride when they play out. Here at DGHQ we loved listening to their self-released debut album Trouble In The Shed so much we eventually released it on vinyl for the first time. They now have a second album! Vocalist/drummer Peter very kindly talks us through the (train) tracks_ * "The Trainspotting Song" - Now, as a train geek, I go out filming trains an awful lot, and one thing you can't help noticing whilst out in the wilds of Staffordshire or the moors of Lancashire are a whole load of unnecessary 'Private Land' signs. This song is my response_ * "The Talyllyn Railway" - The history of the Talyllyn Railway is a fascinating one that I've long since wanted to explore, due to its unique nature as the first railway to ever be taken over by volunteers. This is the result! * "The Middleton Railway" - As a volunteer at the Middleton Railway, I had felt that a song needed to be written for quite a while. However, our guitarist Michael, ended up beating me to it! * "A Model World" - It was late one night, and I was lying on my sofa, trying my hardest to gain an ounce of enjoyment from 'Hornby; A Model World.' It was proving quite hard, due to the alarming lack of substance in the programme, so instead I decided that its name was rather good, and could be the basis of a song explaining my 'model world.' And, well, here it is! * "The Fifth Black Five" - This song is dedicated to the railway preservationists of old, who spent countless hours in cold, damp, dreary sidings, all to make sure us future generations would be able to enjoy the smell of a steam train. Thanks guys! * "Case Study" - This song is a commentary on the sensationalisation of disasters, when there's a massive tragedy and people at home just sit in their comfy sofas, watching the news and drinking tea. We know what's going on, but we can just choose to turn off the TV and forget it ever happened and continue with our lives. It also relates to the dehumanisation of those disasters you experience in school, where you have to write essays on someone who's just become homeless. It seems quite heartless sometimes_ * "Loco Motives" - This song is a fictional story of a man's personal struggle with a railway company, and the drastic measures he took to fix them_ * "That Would Never Suit His Grace" - With model railways, you always seem to get a few people who can never be satisfied with a layout or a model - no matter how hard someone's tried, there's always something to improve on, and they're never nice about it either. This song is a reality check for them_ * "Small Black Shunter" - This is our second homage to Zounds - Electrification would never be truly complete without its B-side. And this B-side is the story of a little loco who wanted to see the world. * "Rhydyronen" - Slowly but surely, we're going to pick off all of the stations on the Talyllyn Railway. Starting where Abergynolwyn left off, this is the story of our second favourite station on the TR. * "Typically English Day" - This is an homage to Mark Astronaut, a true punk genius who was gone before his time. Although there were many songs we could've picked to cover, it only seemed right to punk up one of his most popular tracks, and one of the main ones that got me into the Astronauts in the first place - Typically English Day, a heart-wrenching tale of an elderly couple trapped in the middle of a nuclear war, following their last moments before their inevitable demise. * "Just For The Record" - There is too much misinformation in the media these days, and one case I found particularly egregious was the gross misrepresentation of the strikers, who aren't so evil as the media want you to believe_

Red Laser gets on a kinky tip, where poppers are currency and salacious activities mandatory as label chief Il Bosco grabs us by the nethers and heads for 'The Darkroom EP'.

Inspired by amyl-soaked tales of Euro basement sex club debauchery, and steadily edging its way to a never-ending climax, the EP is a highly charged exercise in x-rated synth-jizz and erotic Manctalo that'll have you quickly believing you're surrounded by massive pulsating dicks on a cocktail of GHB and Mkat.
Maintaining a persistent throb throughout, the EP has us reaching blindly through clouds of pink saturated club smoke, unsure of what our sweat-soaked hands will grasp on to.

Two remixes alongside three originals. Fabrizio Mammarella has the blood rushing to our head quicker than a whiff of Rush Black Label* on his mix of 'Notio Botherdini'. Adding extra acid for a trippier sexperience and urging willing participants to "close your eyes" as he achieves maximum thrust.

Meanwhile local Stretford poppers enthusiast** Bob Swans also has a fumble in the shadows, remixing 'Dark Room' with late late late on in the session in mind - a time of carnal lucidity and primal urges that'd make even Michael Barrymore's peculiar desires look vanilla. It's a sparse and special redux, fluffing us with that latexy bassline and never-ended sfx trails until we're quite literally cumming in your ears.
Apologies, that probably was a bit graphic.

*Poppers brand highly endorsed by Red Laser contributor Count Van Delicious

**Red Laser only hypothesizes to said producer’s poppers usage.

MICHELLE’s first project of buoyant R&B tracks was an ode to New York City, the city where all 6 members of the band grew up. But amid the success of that project, 2018’s HEATWAVE, and 2022’s AFTER DINNER WE TALK DREAMS, they left home and broadened their perspective. The band travelled across the U.S. and Europe opening for Gus Dapperton, Arlo Parks, and Mitski, headlining their own shows, and playing festivals.

While writing their new album, Songs About You Specifically, MICHELLE decided to rent out a house in Ojai, California. Surrounded by lizards, the smell of ripe cactus fruit, and endless expanses of sand, they experienced a sense of solitude and closeness they hadn’t before. It shifted the tone of their work. While their earlier music channelled the churning restlessness of the city, these news songs meander and expand into starry shoegaze reveries, slick funk riffs, and lilting 80s synth pop.

Their newfound closeness also helped them write more vulnerable music. On Songs About You Specifically, the band members express their complicated desires, voice their regrets, and own up to their moments of selfishness. By slowing down, cutting out any distractions, and fostering a sense of communal closeness that necessitated honesty, MICHELLE ended up with a collection of songs that feel like the truth.