quête:swallow

From the needle drop, the listener is swept away by Moving Still. The Jeddah-born, Dublin-based artist graces Bordello A Parigi with Close to the Shams, four works that summarise his broad range and even broader influences. Pulsating percussion push piano plumes and brass blasts in “Zaman.” A SWANA-inspired scent weaves through the track, with snare rolls adding spice and speed to this heady opener. Tempos drop for “Bang of Luban.” Beats are bolstered, acid squirms lending texture, while the central melody bends and turns from traditional refrains to house reimaginings.

Those traditional undercurrents continue into the B-Side. The title piece is big and bold, kicks split into broken beats while nuanced mizmar notes dip and dive with a swallow-like agility. “Sunday Rollover (Suntop Mix)” calls time on the quartet. A relaxed rhythm gives support and space to low-slung lounge lines, a dreamy and enchanting finish to an EP that illustrates the breadth and depth of Moving Still.

The National veröffentlichen mit "Rome" am 13. Dezember ein komplettes Live-Album mit 21 Tracks auf Doppel-Vinyl, als Doppel-CD und natürlich digital.

Das Konzert wurde am 3. Juni 2024 in Italien live (ohne Overdubs) aufgenommen wurde. Das Doppelalbum, welches von Peter Katis, einem langjährigen Begleiter der Band, abgemischt wurde, spannt einen Bogen über die mehr als 20 Jahre der Karriere von The National und zeigt, wie jeder Song auf der Bühne sein ganz eigenes und neues Leben entfaltet hat. Man muss diese Band live gesehen haben, die mittlerweile Stadien und große Arenen füllt. Warum das so ist, hört man auf "Rome". Aufgenommen in dem architektonisch beeindruckenden und nach dem berühmten italienischen Filmkomponisten benannten Veranstaltungsort "Parco Della Musica Ennio Morricone", zeigt die 21-Track-LP schillernde Versionen großer Songs wie "Bloodbuzz Ohio", "Don"t Swallow the Cap", "I Need My Girl", "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness", "England" und "Fake Empire" - so wie Live-Interpretationen neuerer Tracks wie "Eucalyptus", "New Order T-Shirt", "Tropic Morning News" und "Smoke Detector". Die Band ändert ihre Setlist von Abend zu Abend, spielt Klassiker aus zwei Jahrzehnten und kombiniert diese mit Tracks aus den letzten Alben - kein Konzert ist wie das andere und beschert den Zuschauern jedes Mal im wahrsten Sinne ein einzigartiges Erlebnis. "Rome" ist geprägt von Raritäten wie dem Show-Opener "Runaway", "Lemonworld", "The Geese of Beverly Road", "Lit Up" und einer Tour-de-Force-Paarung von "Humiliation" vom von der Kritik gefeierten Album "Trouble Will Find Me" mit "Murder Me Rachael" von dem früheren Album "Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers". Als Zugabe gibt es in Rom die Wahlkampfhymne "Mr. November", "Terrible Love" von High Violet und das abschließende Fan-Singalong "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks". In ihrer Live-Kritik bezeichnete der Guardian The National als "eine die Ära definierende Band auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer Kräfte... als dieses atemberaubende zweieinhalbstündige Epos zu einer gemeinschaftlichen Katharsis wird". Auch der Rolling Stone UK schrieb: "Es ist klar, dass die Band...ihren Platz an der Spitze seit einem Jahrzehnt verdient hat.... Eine Show, die einfach euphorisch ist und die Band auf einem neuen Höhepunkt sieht." Das Doppel-Livealbum "Rome" ist das Zeugnis dafür.

Music From Memory is thrilled to introduce Dead Sound, the collaborative project of Marco Sterk (aka Young Marco) and Berlin-based pop-auteur John Moods. Both artists are no strangers to the label; Sterk forms one third of the trio Gaussian Curve, while Moods released the 2022 album ‘Hidden Gem’ with The Zenmenn.

Their collaboration was both planned and spontaneous; Sterk initially reached out in 2022 expressing his desire to work with Moods. The pair finally got together in 2024 to produce ‘Into The Void’, an album that burst into life over the course of a few creatively charged days in each other’s company.

Moods’ dream-like, emotionally charged music wears its heart on its sleeve; its very human vulnerability makes it a perfect match for Sterk’s strong sense of melody and textural sonic visions.

‘Into The Void’ carries these psychedelic traits in its DNA, but they exist layered deep amongst the shadows. Painting on a wide canvas that effortlessly skips between genres, the pair weave anything that inspires them into a truly unique tapestry; a bold attempt to touch at the beyond.

Exploring the space between perception (level of the mind) and the nature of the universe (actual level of reality) seems traditionally like an impossible task. But there’s gotta be a time and a space for the profound and this album invites the listener to go deep, letting go of concepts such as love and opening oneself up to one’s own authentic journey. This transformative force of healing is a central theme of ‘Into The Void’, a path that is lined with light and darkness in equal measure. But, as Moods says, “do not skip the darkness, let that door open and swallow you. And maybe you’ll find, it's not as dark as you perceived at first."

Sleeve art by Michael Willis.

Acquit Records are setting out on an ambitious one, presenting their latest foray into vinyl releasing with this incredible new LP from Arbilla. Both label and artist move incredibly low-key, but unearthing the info was worth it. Arbilla aka. Phil Robertson and his own adjacent imprint, Xistence Records, follows up prior greats such as the 'Movement' EP with this full-length, which takes after Detroit techno and catapults it to ever further cosmic reaches. Zooming out to the macro-point of galaxy filaments and Bootes Voids, we begin with the brukky opus '3500 Miles Away From Detroit' before seguing into the percussive workouts of 'Brighter Swallow' and 'Mecca'. A real sense of expanse is given off from the otherwise raw and up-close analogue sound; the cosmos is, of course, airtight.

Prolific visionary Yetsuby makes her debut on all my thoughts with a celestial concept LP that chimes into the deeper, inner emotions.

Yetsuby is the solo project of South Koren artist Yejin Jang. Since 2019 she has carved out a reputation as
something of a prolific visionary, with 6 albums, 7 EPsand a flurry of singles between her two projects to date. Her recent album “My Star, My Planet Earth” received the “best electronic album of 2023" award at the KoreanMusic Awards.

Beyond her solo work Jang is also one half of the critically acclaimed electronic duo Salamanda, which has been featured in Pitchfork, Crack Magazine, and Dj Mag. The duo also host a residency called “shadow dance” on NTS radio. Yetsuby’s debut release on Seb Wilblood’s all my thoughts label is a heartfelt and forward thinking mini LP.

Yetsuby’s debut release on Seb Wilblood’s all my thoughts label is a heartfelt and forward thinking mini LP.
The 6 track release effortlessly chimes into the deeper, inner emotions whilst providing a window into her
abundant breadth of skills through tantalising themes of sonic alchemy.

“I want to put comfort into the music and give some message to people who blame themselves” - Yetsuby

The resulting effect is a release that feels sincere and deeply personal but has a celestial magic about it that feels both kaleidoscopic and transcendent. It effectively creates a world for the listener to inhabit, whilst inviting them to connect with the album’s themes on a personal level.

URIN one of the most sought after arcana bands in Berlin, having broke barriers down and represent hard with a core so unyielding for the true punk anima. SZYBCIEJ (SPEEDY) showcases the outrageous rapture and SAMA CHĘĆ NIE WYSTARCZY equalize the EP with guitar thrashed out beyond the curtain call fuckery.

S.A.T.I.N, the new project by Infinity Division & Ireen Amnes, brings doom-electronics, squeezing out post rock sensibilities in the short form is no mean feat but the duo all chemicalize for a creation of experiential motifs. 'Dirt' leads the charge with perpetual drum programming sliced beside thashed vox, 'Nothing is real' blows the walls off with complex ambienta and doom metal.

ART by Stachu Szumski & Ash Luk

Multi-award-winning singer-songwriter and leading UK jazz vocalist Zara McFarlane releases Sweet Whispers – Celebrating Sarah Vaughan on 14th June. The album honours the jazz great who inspired her on her own artistic journey and whose centenary year is marked in 2024.

‘Sweet Whispers’ is more than a run-through of some of Vaughan’s most popular songs. It’s not hard to imagine the immense task in selecting those songs, after all, Vaughan’s recording career spanned 50 years notching up almost 60 albums (plus nearly 30 again in compilations and box sets). Through a thoughtfully chosen selection of songs, formed across months in collaboration with producer, and the album’s clarinettist and saxman, Giacomo Smith – Zara journeys through the musical life of Sarah Vaughan, from her first to last recording, bringing to life and breathing new life into some of her best and less familiar songs. But importantly, the songs that mean the most to Zara.

Zara McFarlane said “It was when I started to listen to Sarah Vaughan that I really began to appreciate jazz vocals. She had such control across her range and a vocal command that was cheeky, playful and fun yet sophisticated and articulate. I really wanted to pay homage to her as I feel she has been somewhat overlooked amongst the jazz singers. Although I do love Ella and Billie, it's all about Sarah for me.”

‘Sweet Whispers – Celebrating Sarah Vaughan’ was recorded analogue at Durham Studios, London. Giacomo assembled a stellar cast of musicians - Joe Webb on piano, Ferg Ireland on double bass, Jas Kayser on drums, Marlon Hibbert on Steel Pan and Gabriella Swallow on cello – to record 11 tracks live to tape; with minimal overdubs, the recording has retained a live, vintage feel. A celebration of Sarah Vaughan could be in no better hands than that of Zara McFarlane, who makes an inspired homage to the ‘Divine One’. Beautifully performed in Zara’s own inimitable style, with her own playful swoops and slides, she has added her own
touch to the music. With a silken voice and timbre that bring emotional depth, attitude and personality to this collection of SaraH Vaughan songs, this is a masterful celebration

Crucial Toronto rapper / producer / DJ myst milano. returns with thrilling new album Beyond the Uncanny Valley, an exhilarating ride through hedonistic experimental hip-hop and house music that reinterprets the breadth of Black electronic music with addictive singular energy.

“I offer Beyond the Uncanny Valley as a working anthology of Black electronic music across generational, geographical and genre lines,” myst milano. writes. “I thought a lot about staples of Black art across the world that can be traced back to Africa, and that link the diaspora regardless of where our people end up and throughout all eras.”

A mighty example of this omnivorous and multifaceted awareness of Black creativity, Beyond the Uncanny Valley is a tidal wave, swallowing up Canadian House, Detroit Electro, Chicago Footwork, UK Jungle and Dubstep, Jersey / Baltimore / Philly Club, Southern Hip-Hop and West Coast Funk into the trail of euphoric destruction left by myst milano.’s trademark grimy, sweaty, lusty neo-R&B take on contemporary hip-hop.

Opening with “Thirteen”, the album hits with punch and immediacy. The track’s thumping kick and swirling, haunted synthesis represent myst milano.’s keen ability to nurture perfect symbiosis between production, arrangement and lyrical theme. It is equal parts dreamy, provocative, sexy and powerful, and, together, entirely unique to myst’s creative voice. As with Beyond the Uncanny Valley as a whole, it is evocatively storytelling, mixing vivid imagery with slick wordplay. We are introduced to myst’s groupie (formerly “a hater”), as their crew “causes damage you can’t afford”, while witty threats and erudite posturing flow out over a steadily expanding instrumentation that mimics myst’s breathless, sweatbox DJ sets.

“Ring Ring” is another key track. Glitching nuclear alarms give way to a bulldozing kick drum and in-the-red distortion on myst’s voice. The vocals hit at breakneck speed while the production retains a dirty, dirging stomp. It is formidable, intense, fun, and intimidating in all the right ways.

Underpinning the album is a mechanised female voice that has possessed the record like a replicant ghost. “When we go beyond the uncanny valley, we reach a state of perfect harmony where the robot has mimicked the human to the point of being indistinguishable,” myst says. “Who are we when we become perfect imitations of what the world wants instead of who we really are, which is imperfect and flawed and a little uncanny, anyway?” While the music of Beyond the Uncanny Valley is human, with real emotion and expression, it occasionally flirts with the beyond, reaching into a near future where reality and technology bleed into one.

Beyond the Uncanny Valley is myst milano.’s second full length, following 2021’s rapturously received debut Shapeshyfter, and a monstrously successful accompanying house remix on the UK’s legendary Defected Records.

Me Saco Un Ojo proudly presents the second full length album from Germany’s Teratoma.

Otherworldly atmospherics soon turn to visceral death metal as we begin our all-consuming descent into the bowels of the beast. Murky guitars churn around punchy bass lines and snappy drums. The old school death metal method, tried and tested, is delivered with crushing precision and monstrously snarled vocals to complete the mix. Building a strong rhythmic current to unleash a tidal wave of grooving, mid-tempo death metal offal; this is going to grip you with the rusted chains of pure viciousness. The crawling pace of the riffs ensures they are memorable, catchy even, for your ears to be wormed by chaotic bewilderment and perpetual anguish. The band warns you of the displeasures they inflict, so if you’re still here: that’s entirely your own doing. Still with us? Good, because this juggernaut of decay lumbers forward into more devastating territories, building wonderfully on the already strong debut album.

Slithering for over 45 minutes, this is a behemoth of death metal that will either destroy you or have you fully enveloped in its meaty mass for the duration. Plentiful clever grooves switch things up between the charnel atmospherics, so even the dullest mind will have its attention held. As each asphyxiating song creeps forth to swallow you, the void-like atmosphere continues swirling into itself and spitting out only the rotten remains of that which has crossed its path. From the whiplashing assaults to the slower moments of eerie decay, each moment has its own gruelling intensity to offer. There is no denying the sheer brute force in terms of the heaviness delivered here. Equally impressive is the totally harrowing ambience they conjure with these songs. Do not miss out on this ruthless slab of death, enter the festering realm of spewing atrocities…

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

On their powerful new album When A Flower Doesn’t Grow, Softcult (Mercedes and Phoenix Arn-Horn) deliver their most unflinching and transformative work to date. Written during a period of personal upheaval and self-discovery, the record charts a journey through trauma, disillusionment, empowerment and eventual liberation. Musically, Softcult continue to expand their world of grunge, shoegaze and alt-rock textures, pairing fuzz-laden riffs and dreamy soundscapes with raw, confessional lyricism. The result is both intimate and universal: a record for anyone who has ever felt trapped or diminished by their surroundings and a rallying cry to nurture ourselves and each other in the pursuit of freedom and authenticity.

The Swallows were one of Singapore’s standout bands of the 1960s, rising from the explosive Pop Yeh-Yeh movement, the regional response to the global beat-band wave, with strong garage-rock roots. Fusing surf rock, early Beatles-inspired pop, and gritty, fuzz-laden guitars with a distinctly local sensibility, they became youth icons of the era. Defined by sharp suits, infectious melodies, and a rebellious spark, The Swallows captured the restless energy of post-independence Singapore, securing their place in the island’s golden age of bands and in the wider story of Southeast Asian rock.

Vienna sludge doom masters TARLUNG return with their most focused and destructive statement to date. Axis Mundi is a massive slab of low tuned heaviness forged in the darkest corners of sludge and doom.
Built on suffocating riffs, dragging tempos, chugging grooves and feral vocal delivery, TARLUNG create a sound that feels both crushing and hypnotic. The band move between oppressive sludge weight, bleak doom atmospheres and abrasive noise soaked tension, shaping long, immersive compositions that pull the listener into a collapsing sonic landscape.
While rooted in nasty, direct sludge doom, TARLUNG also explore experimental textures, subtle dynamic shifts and rare moments of contemplation within the chaos, only to be swallowed again by waves of uncompromising brutality. This is an album made for listeners who want weight, tension and depth, not just volume.

For Fans Of: YOB, Crowbar, Weedeater, Iron Monkey, Dopethrone, Thou, SUMA

Green Vinyl, limited to 500 copies. New album from the psychedelic, progressive folk rock band from Skien, Norway! The day belongs to the night The four songs on side A came about in November 2022 for a winter solstice celebration at Oslo Badstuforening. Our take on this was that the solstice invites reflections on the relationship between night and day. Does the day spring out of the darkness of the preceding night or does the night follow and swallow the light of the day? Is it Saturday Night or Sunday Morning? Are we running from the past or catching up with the future? Moving from A to B, Lidskjalv has existed as a demo since the 90s. Many versions have been made, but this is the first proper recording of the song. The passage of time is the future becoming the present. It moves forward in circles like a rolling wheel. Balder, Osiris and Jesus are all vegetation gods emulating the turn of the seasons in their eternal return. After the death of winter, life emerges anew. But not only this; there is also the promise of each dawn bringing a Better Day. According to Snorre, after the Fimbul Winter and Ragnarok, there is a new Earth. From the ashes emerges a better place. This holds also the idea of progress. It is at the core of being a prog band; each album is an improvement on the last, an exploration of new territory, a different perspective.

Taupe’s latest album release, waxing | waning delivers jazz experimentalism, ‘skronk’, avant-rock, and electronics, by the Glasgow-based trio, due out via Minority Records. Across its seven tracks, waxing | waning captures Taupe’s approach – bold and boundary pushing – shaped by a fresh shift in the band’s dynamic and compositional approach.

Taupe’s waxing | waning, co-composed and realised by its players in a studio that was once an undertaker’s premises in Glasgow, is an absolutely affirmative album, an act of cultural defiance in desperate times.

Comprising Mike Parr-Burman (guitar, bass guitar, electronics), Jamie Stockbridge (alto and baritone saxophones) and Alex Palmer (drum kit, percussion), Taupe work up a storm of skronk, free jazz and harmolodic frenzy whose closest relations include Zu, Melt Banana and John Zorn. However, waxing | waning is from its opening, stuttering blasts, an exercise in seeking out and claiming new territory, finding unique and novel permutations in which jazz, rock, electronics interbreed at breakneck pace. Here is a group determined to say and do things they don’t get to say and do elsewhere in their musical lives.

‘Lemonade Tycoon’ hits the ground skronking. It’s cubistic jazz, cumulative in its impact, avoiding the white lines of the conventional freeway, bridling, bustling, coming at you from all angles – a three way conversation of astonishing rapidity, fast track, telepathic communication – everyone from James Chance to Albert Ayler coming at you at once, before morphing in to a spidery scrawl of electronics and furious percussion. ‘Anti-Bird-Spike BirdNest’s‘ title somehow sums up the sort of mental images evoked by the music – its sheer creative disobedience, as if being chased in vain, like a delivery rider evading capture by ICE agents -– shapeshifting, assuming different shades, sprouting metal quills and, in its midsection, seeming almost to swallow itself alive, before regurgitating itself in a sublime mess.

‘Interlude (Stride)’ is not exactly ambient, more a horizontal enmeshment of percussion, drones, reverberant noise, electronics, a sonic mulch. ‘allcapsallbold' reminds of early Aksak Maboul, in its playfulness, a haywire series of short phrases, subject to mechanical interference, a complex weave of irregular rhythms, increasingly eloquent sax phraseology and caustic guitars, which land heavier and heavier. ‘Pet Boss' is the new jazz equivalent of a highly evolved, mature conversation among brilliant equals, sharp, empathetic, complementary, rising to a collective, joyful noise. On the title track, electronics descend like a shower of bright particles, intensifying in their luminosity, whitening the skies, as sax and drums kick up a tempestuous, spontaneously sculpted noise that summons the ghosts of the great free jazz players, before a dark calm descends slowly. Finally, ‘Turn Push Kick’, a burgeoning chatterstorm of electronics, before the group kicks in, at angles to one another, led by abrasive guitars, reminiscent of Sunn O))) in their ritualistic concussion, riffing, digging deep amid squealing sax and piledriving percussion.

"deathcrash’s third album, Somersaults, glimmers with an everyday euphoria. The London-based slowcore/ post-rock quartet has always had an affinity for building worlds only to crush them. From their breakout EP, People thought my windows were stars (2021), through two critically acclaimed studio albums, Return (2022) and Less (2023), they have been both the architects and the destroyers, the creationists and the ones manning the flood barrier. But, recorded between Black Box Studio in the Loire Valley and Haggerston’s Holy Mountain, Somersaults is almost joyful.

Its ten tracks are more vocal heavy than any of the band’s catalogue – think Mark Linkous via The Kinks – but lyrically, Somersaults resists revelation. For all its abrasion, phrases appear half-swallowed, broken off at the edge of meaning, consumed by the smaller textures of living. “Thirty, no career, it fucking worries me / And doing the band doesn’t help,” Banks sings in ‘NYC’. But, “This life is the best life,” he finishes in ‘CMC’ on top of the ambient white noise of an office printer, thankful that the band is still there, “still making noise in the doorway.”

Their role as caretakers of Duster, Low and Codeine’s slowcore lineage is all across Somersaults – songs scud to a narcotic crawl, sound monolithic and inwards before spotlighting a crystalline nothing. Cathartic builds are muddied with tenderness, the bass a heavy grounding, the drums an exhausted heartbeat grasping for air. But more so than ever, even the silence feels collaborative – a gesture of communal trust – friends celebrating the room they’ve made for each other’s ghosts, and some of the biggest, brightest songs they’ve made to date."

Es ist durchaus eine kleine Sensation, dass dieser Tage ein weiteres MORBID SAINT-Album erscheint, also mehr als 30 Jahre, nachdem ihre zweite LP „Destruction System“ aufgenommen, aber bis zu ihrer offiziellen Veröffentlichung vor kurzem nicht fertiggestellt worden war. Allerdings war die Aussicht, neue Musik in ihrem einzigartigen Death/Thrash-Metal-Stil zu schreiben, einer der Hauptgründe dafür, dass sich die Kernmitglieder 2010 überhaupt wieder vereinten. Während ihrer ersten aktiven Phase von 1984 bis ’94 konnte die Band ihr Potenzial längst nicht ausschöpfen, insbesondere im Hinblick auf ihre bahnbrechende erste Platte „Spectrum of Death“ (1990). Das neue Werk entstand im kreativen Fernaustausch, wobei sich alle Mitglieder gegenseitig Ideen zuspielten, um ein Breitseite aus zehn Extrem-Metal-Tracks abzufeuern, wie man sie heute kaum mehr hört – absolut verheerend und doch musikalisch anspruchsvoll, Grenzen überschreitend, aber nicht auf Teufel komm raus, und abgerundet von einem Artwork des legendären Ed Repka (Death, Megadeth). „Swallowed By Hell“ wurde von Chris Djuricic (Num Skull, Disinter) im The Belle City Sound Company aufgenommen und erhielt den letzten Schliff von Scott Elliott in den Chernobyl Studios. Es riecht nach alter Schule, steht aber mit beiden Beinen im Hier und Jetzt.

From the opening notes – arriving as if in mid-air – to its final, cheerful burblings, Sean Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Old Segotia is an album about friendship: both musical and human, the product of two distinctive musicians visiting each other’s worlds with a sense of veneration, and a sense of joyful wonder.
Here, Mac Erlaine (This is How We Fly, Quiet Music Ensemble) and Ó Raghallaigh (The Gloaming, This is How We Fly) meet on common ground developed over 20 years of playing together, with Mac Erlaine’s musical language rooted in jazz and sonic experimentation, and Ó Raghallaigh emerging from an Irish traditional music that he has shaped and reshaped in a deeply personal way.
In this place, Mac Erlaine and Ó Raghallaigh’s music is profoundly integrated and emotionally textured: at times bursting with explosive energy, at times almost sighing into life, but always searching. Here are the touching unison duets of ‘Cantandor’, the lyrical wanderings of ‘Swallow Dive’, or the flirtations with finding a groove in ‘Reverse Burst’.
The palette of instruments speaks to the album’s feeling of abundance, with Mac Erlaine performing on clarinets, chalumeau d’amore, three different flutes, car hooter, percussion, live electronics, Wurlitzer, synthesiser, vocals and alto saxophone; and with Ó Raghallaigh bringing his signature hardanger d’amore sound plus a turn on the flute and live electronics, too.
With the title echoing a well-worn Dublinese expression for “friend”, Old Segotia plays out with ‘Oiche Crua Sna Sleibhte’ (A Hard Night in the Mountains), with ornithologist Seán Ronayne’s field recordings of birdsong rising out of the musicians’ playful explorations, offering a taste of life echoing music, echoing life.

2xLP gatefold jacket (recorded in Side A, B, C, and no music recorded in back side of Side D)

Soundtracks including the scores used in the film, including the main theme “The Promise of the World” sung by Chieko Baisho who is a voice actress of the main character, Sophie.

Montreal indie rock trio Plants and Animals announce "The Jungle", their fifth studio album set to be released October 23rd via Secret City Records. Their shortest album yet and certainly their boldest, "The Jungle" is eight acts in a world full of noise. The album is auto-produced and was recorded at Mixart, their studio in Montreal. The band explains : "We started working on this a couple of years ago. Warren was afraid for a friend's health. He thought he was self-medicating too much and not taking care of himself. He couldn't let go of this image of an overworked dude swallowing too many sleeping pills and falling asleep with the stove on. So it began as the place next door, sometime before Greta Thunberg turned the expression into a rallying cry, where Earth is the house and the people are sleeping. It's terrifying, and on the whole we're not unlike this friend, are we?" "The Jungle" starts with electronic drums that sound like insects at night. A whole universe comes alive in the dark. It's beautiful, complex and unsettling. Systematic and chaotic. All instinct, no plan. Voices taunt,"yeah yeah yeah." This tangled time in which we find ourselves is reflected back in shadows. Every song is such a landscape. The first one grinds to a halt and you become a kid looking out a car window at the moon, wondering how it's still on your tail as you speed past a steady blur of trees. You watch a house go up in a yellow strobe that echoes the disco weirdness of Giorgio Moroder, Donna Summer and David Bowie. You get pummelled by a rhythm then set free by a sudden change of scenery_the wind stops, clarity returns. You're under a streetlight in Queens, soft-focus, slow motion, falling in love. You speak French now too, in case you didn't already. Bienvenue. These are personal experiences made in a volatile world, and they reflect that world right back at us, even by accident. There's one song Nic sings to his teenage son who was dealing with climate change anxiety and drifting into uncharted independence. The band carries it out slowly together into a sweet blue horizon. Warren wrote the words to another shortly after losing his father. It's about the things we inherit not necessarily being the things we want. In a broader sense, that's where a lot of people find themselves right now.

Wild by nature, the Does of the Florian Pellissier Quintet could never be contained in a creative pen that would have forced them never to cross potential geographical limits. Travelers, spending their energy without restraint to let the hard bop of their jazz wander and export itself wherever the groove guided them, they went as far as Africa or South America, from the Cape of Good Hope to Rio. Rio, precisely where, for their last appearance, exposure to a brief electric current had carried them into outer space. A revelation.


Furious strides, exhausting gambols, the Does had done so much that they could not escape the obvious call of calm and serenity. Freed from distances, and after a stop in Colombia to mingle with the crowd at the Barranquilla carnival, it was California and its Pacific coast they reached, to rest before the peaceful immensity of the ocean.


One hundred sixty-five million square kilometers, an infinite expanse to contemplate in order to fling wide open the gates to an even vaster space. A spiritual domain conducive to the search for new sounds. That of the open sea, where measuring miles is neither relevant nor meaningful, and where the only compass becomes the musical tracks the Does follow.


Beneath their coppery hooves, to the crystalline sound of the Fender Rhodes and the sweep of electric layers, the path to take revealed itself in this meditative and abstract realm they had never before explored. Invited to join the purely organic textures, the synthetic notes distilled a few aromas of sweetness into an album of ten tracks, where the FPQ abandoned written scores on some pieces in order to be guided only by the inspiration born of a newfound freedom.


Blue when they began their journey five albums ago, their coat has now taken on the colors that illuminate the Pacific coast. That moment when, as you gaze at the horizon swallowing the sun, only glowing shades filter through—reddish, orange, violet.


Departing without haste or frenzy from one of the shores bordering the ocean, the voices of Archie Shepp, Iggy Pop, and DjeuhDjoah still resonating in their antlers, the Does may now be on the opposite shore. Carried all the way to the Japanese coast by Hokusai’s wave…

Wild by nature, the Does of the Florian Pellissier Quintet could never be contained in a creative pen that would have forced them never to cross potential geographical limits. Travelers, spending their energy without restraint to let the hard bop of their jazz wander and export itself wherever the groove guided them, they went as far as Africa or South America, from the Cape of Good Hope to Rio. Rio, precisely where, for their last appearance, exposure to a brief electric current had carried them into outer space. A revelation.
Furious strides, exhausting gambols, the Does had done so much that they could not escape the obvious call of calm and serenity. Freed from distances, and after a stop in Colombia to mingle with the crowd at the Barranquilla carnival, it was California and its Pacific coast they reached, to rest before the peaceful immensity of the ocean.
One hundred sixty-five million square kilometers, an infinite expanse to contemplate in order to fling wide open the gates to an even vaster space. A spiritual domain conducive to the search for new sounds. That of the open sea, where measuring miles is neither relevant nor meaningful, and where the only compass becomes the musical tracks the Does follow.
Beneath their coppery hooves, to the crystalline sound of the Fender Rhodes and the sweep of electric layers, the path to take revealed itself in this meditative and abstract realm they had never before explored. Invited to join the purely organic textures, the synthetic notes distilled a few aromas of sweetness into an album of ten tracks, where the FPQ abandoned written scores on some pieces in order to be guided only by the inspiration born of a newfound freedom.
Blue when they began their journey five albums ago, their coat has now taken on the colors that illuminate the Pacific coast. That moment when, as you gaze at the horizon swallowing the sun, only glowing shades filter through—reddish, orange, violet.
Departing without haste or frenzy from one of the shores bordering the ocean, the voices of Archie Shepp, Iggy Pop, and DjeuhDjoah still resonating in their antlers, the Does may now be on the opposite shore. Carried all the way to the Japanese coast by Hokusai’s wave…

2LP, 9mm spine gatefold sleeve with silver hot foil & metallic inks. Printed inner sleeves. Engraving on Side D, the vinyl here is of silvery colour. Pelagic reissued THE OCEAN's 2010 albums "Heliocentric" and "Anthropocentric" on vinyl! "Heliocentric" was the first album with current vocalist Loïc Rossetti, a game changer in the band's history. The album is characterized by his shimmering cleans alongside abrasive, powerful screams. "Heliocentric" sees the band venture into calmer territories as compared to its predecessors: the album is defined not solely by walls of guitars, but also by careful orchestrations of piano, upright bass, strings and textural electronics. Conceptually "Heliocentric" is a comprehensive critique of the legacy of christianity: the iconic opening track "Firmament", still a fan's favourite, starts off with original text from the bible; while "Ptolemy Was Wrong" and "Catharsis of A Heretic" tackle Gallilei's and Copernicus' discoveries that Earth is not at the center of the universe, for which Giordano Bruno was burnt at the stake. The album concludes with Charles Darwin's theory of evolution, and considerations by Richard Dawkins', the spearhead of modern day's aetheism, in the epic 14 minutes closing track duality "The Origin Of Species" and "The Origin Of God". For fans of BREACH TOOL THRICE NINE INCH NAILS CULT OF LUNA ISIS KARNIVOOL ROSETTA RUSSIAN CIRCLES MONO MASTODON OPETH BETWEEN THE BURIED AND ME PINK FLOYD

Musician and visual artist by day, bat researcher by night: Mathilde Nobel brings both worlds together on her new album Guadirikiri on Nous'klaer Audio. Unlike the first album, Guadirikiri features (almost) no vocals. Instead, its compositions took shape through Mathilde's deep fascination for bats. Creatures that, much like her, navigate and make sense of the world through sound. By night, Mathilde travels across the Netherlands to study their calls, movements, and patterns. Using ultrasonic detectors and thermal cameras, she's been gathering and archiving recordings and visuals, gradually building what she calls an orchestra of bats - shaping and inspiring what became Guadirikiri.

The 3rd and final chapter in Cochemea's epic quest to explore and express the spiritual connection between his art and ancestry. For Vol 3: Ancestros Futuros, Cochemea entrusted his vision to a core group of longme collaborators-a powerful octet composed of New York-based percussionists and members of Daptone's famed rhythm section. Gabriel Roth (aka Bosco Mann) reprised his role as producer, recording and mixing the album live to 8-track analog tape. Cochemea continues to push the boundaries of his sound, blending past, present, and future into a ritual offering-an evolving sonic narrative where memory, survival and creativity converge.

Going back to sleep… a lovingly gathered suite of windswept, heart-bursting contemporary DIY indie-pop and folk including new songs by Carla dal Forno, The Reds, Pinks and Purples, Lewsberg-related duo The Hobknobs and Rat Columns, next to luminaries and newcomers Daily Toll, Who Cares?, The Lewers, The Sprigs, Drunk Elk, I Can I Can't, The Gabys and Chateau. A beautiful contemporary companion of I Won't Have To Think About You (A Colourful Storm, 2017).

Focused on Australian artists predominantly recording and performing in intimate spaces, the compilation's sentiment extends to likeminded artists around the world. A feeling of introspection that seems impossible to achieve when recording for anyone but yourself. A trip through the wonderfully diverse international pop underground, or more simply, a group of music makers performing on A Colourful Storm's imaginary stage.
, or more simply, a group of music makers performing on A Colourful Storm's imaginary stage.

Juga-Naut, cultural Renaissance man, master of crafts, has done it again. Out of the deepest recesses of Nottingham’s underground caves, in brain-melting stereo and mesmerising technicolor, comes… Bem II.

Following on from 2020’s Bem, while defying the outdated belief that a sequel never outshines its predecessor, this is a lyrically ascendant, sonically euphoric, genre-defying, fever-inducing, hellcat of an album. Built upon the backbone of Juga-Naut’s inimitable production, wry, streetwise and knowing poetics, with hooks so catchy they cause problems when swallowed, Bem II gives listeners more funk, more soul, more grooves, more breaks, and more grit than ever before. The album’s co-stars include incredible artists and collaborators from both sides of the Atlantic, such as Crimeapple, Vandal Savage & Yumah.

Inspired by legendary cinema, each track is filmic in and of itself, a collection of twelve potent and timeless songs that together mean more than a million vapid viral videos. If played in the presence of the planet’s most infamous haters in a darkened theatre on a moonless night, Bem II has the power to unite even the most acrimonious of enemies.

This album is best listened to just before your decide to ask Jugz in 2024 after a decade plus of releases if he is 'still doing his little music thing?'.

After screaming to the world You Don't Know What Chiptune Is, arottenbit returns with an even more radical and collective statement: You Don't Know What A Rework Is. Ten tracks, completely deconstructed and rebuilt by twenty Italian bands, each in their own sonic language. From drone swallowing the void to the most savage death metal, from visceral punk to a fearless flamenco twist, every track becomes an uncharted territory, a journey where arotttenbit's identity dissolves and multiplies into twenty new forms. Most of the recordings were captured by Otto himself with his mobile studio, during a tour across Italy that took him into basements, rehearsal rooms, and underground spaces, harnessing raw and direct energy from the bands in their natural environment. Mixing and mastering then came to life at Otto Engineering Labs, his personal sound-space where everything was stitched together and transformed into a single living organism.



[a] SPECIMEN 1.1.[FLC:011-015] (FEAT. FULCI)
[b] SPECIMEN 2.1.[ISK:006-008] (FEAT. JASON DAHLKE)
[c] SPECIMEN 3.1.[FSG:005-007] (FEAT. FOSGENE)
[d] SPECIMEN 4.1.[OVO:004-007] (FEAT. OVO)
[e] SPECIMEN 5.1.[UND:008-010] (FEAT. UNDERTAKERS)
[f] SPECIMEN 6.1.[HWF:007-009] (FEAT. HYPERWÜLFF)
[g] SPECIMEN 7.1.[3ST:009-010] (FEAT. THREESTEPSTOTHEOCEAN)
[h] SPECIMEN 8.1.[MBR:006-007] (FEAT. MASTER BOOT RECORD)
[i] SPECIMEN 9.1.[LXN:010-011] (FEAT. LESLIEXNIELSEN)
[j] SPECIMEN 0.1.[8NE:006-008] (FEAT. OTTONE PESANTE)

Fronted by Dutch-born singer and songwriter Michelle Hindriks, the band evolved into a duo in the studio with the addition of drummer Tim Spencer. CIEL's sound is both atmospheric and urgent-- heavy guitars, pulsing basslines, and driving rhythms providing the backdrop for Hindriks' haunting yet intimate vocals.

Think of a sound that sits somewhere between the hazy allure of Slowdive, the urgency of Wolf Alice, and the brooding cool of The Cure-- ethereal yet punchy, nostalgic yet fresh, and leaving room for wonky sound experiments through the use of vintage synths and samples. Visual art has as much a place in the world of CIEL too, where paintings and images can show you a different place and make you wonder about the environment, the characters, what is their story? Such as the work of Tilo Baumgartel; sometimes beautiful and strangely dreamlike, sometimes dark and nightmarish, but always mysterious. Having toured extensively and gained strong support from platforms such as BBC Radio 6 Music (A- list rotation), BBC Radio 1, Clash, and DIY, the band continues to push their sound forward. After two EPs and having toured the EU with Blood Red Shoes, in December 2024, CIEL joined The Jesus and Mary Chain on their full UK tour, further cementing their place as one of Brighton's most exciting rising acts.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.