Search:the how screw

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

Looking back more than four years later at Haram, it is easier to see the forest for the trees. At the time, much of the attention fell on how this outsider duo would fare under the bright lights- which was fair, Armand Hammer had never done a single producer record before- and here they were working with a living legend. Now, with a little distance, it’s easier to see how Alchemist stepped out of his comfort zone to meet them where they were, and how all three artists then absconded for parts unknown. The flashbulb energy of “Bring The Stars Out”, asymmetric drone of “Chicharrones”, fugue-bounce of “God’s Feet”, and good luck finding analogues for “Peppertree” or “Stonefruit”. Haram doesn’t sound like anything else in the ALC discography, nor in Armand Hammer’s, for that matter. Haram was a one-shot kill that somehow contained some of the most accessible work ELUCID and billy woods had ever done, as well as some of their most experimental, and it all sounded cohesive.
Needless to say, they didn’t do this alone; KAYANA’s golden voice upps the wattage on “Black Sunlight,” while Fielded’s sultry alto gets chopped and screwed on “Aubergine”. Earl Sweatshirt’s cameo on the sun-soaked “Falling Out the Sky” is already a classic. Curly Castro, Amani, and Quelle Chris all turn up the heat when called upon.
But since we are talking about retrospect here, the thing about Haram isn’t that it still sounds as good as it did when it came out. The amazing thing is that it actually sounds even better than it did then. You don’t have to take our word for it either, run it up one time, with the lights low and something on ice, see if it doesn’t take you somewhere new, again.

Can’t go over it. Can’t go under it. Gotta go through it. And somewhere out there in the Pitch black beyond all darkness lies Peace & Purpose. The horizon you never quite crest until the inevitable end. Breathe deep — this fearful moment is the most alive you’re ever gonna feel. For the last decade, Crack Cloud’s vision has grown ever more expansive, more cinematic. Last go around, they dropped from The Heavens and then performed with their bare backs to an endless darkening desert. Now they’ve crammed all that life into some metallic and strange object called Peace & Purpose. All the terror of living. All the helplessness. All the raw human will. All glued and screwed and locked into this impossible tactile shape of dungeon dub; sour milk vox; Avant-protest music. Music arm wrestling itself to the ground. Far afield of beauty. The discordant symphony of factory farming and grim timber of the meat processing plant. The grinding din of the cogs. And yet, never giving up in spite of all good sense. Even in death, we are a coterie of survivors. Look now: There’s Terry Fox on his one-legged Marathon of Hope across The Great White North while cancer spreads through his lungs. A self-annihilating drive to feel alive. Rage against the dying of the light, they say. Well, how ‘bout it then!??! Peace & Purpose is not in any way some art project meditation on Punk Rock. It is Punk Rock. Terrifying, inspiring, vital, invigorating and most importantly, utterly unexpected. Every goddamn stupid day is a sublime slice of fresh hell. That’s the point. Gotta go through it. Wishing you Peace & Purpose — if only in that last big breath.

Lucy Duncombe and Feronia Wennborg compose a modern symphony for virtual choir on 'Joy, Oh I Missed You', muddling sound poetry with Nuno Canavarro and ‘Systemische'-style machine-damaged surrealism. Like a mashup of Lee Gamble's 'Models', Akira Rabelais' 'Spellewauerynsherde' and Robert Ashley's timeless 'Automatic Writing’ screwed to perfection.

Duncombe and Wennborg have been chewing over ‘Joy, Oh I Missed You’ for four long years, working their process until they were "queasily intimate" with their arsenal of artificial voice tools. Tracing the history of the technology, from voice synthesisers and chatbots to AI voice analysis tools, the duo experiment relentlessly to develop a digital-age response to IRL extended vocal technique - think François Dufrêne, Yoko Ono or Phew. Less interested in replicating human sounds exactly, they instead test how various tools might cough up their own idiosyncratic tics as they stretch and stutter through attempts to mimic their "fleshware" counterparts.

Duncombe's got prior form here, most recently re-synthesising her voice on the brilliantly oily 'Sunset, She Exclaims' 45 for Modern Love, following a stunner for 12th Isle in 2021. Wennborg brings along experience from her tenure as one half of microsound duo soft tissue, whose 2022 LP 'hi leaves' (Students of Decay) was a haptic treasure. These approaches mesh remarkably well on their first collaborative full-length, with Duncombe's eerie bio-electronic incantations providing the ideal foil for Wennborg's carbonated hardware processes. It's not completely clear where the human voice ends and the zeroes and ones begin on 'Your Lips, Covering Your Teeth', as rolling cyborg syllables tumble over OS-startup womps and surprisingly svelte outcroppings of glassy, synthetic glitches. The music is surprisingly mannered, a sonic reflection of the cover, where a mouth is pixellated until only colour swatches remain. Duncombe and Wennborg trace the gradual erosion of their voices, leaning into the chaos as their various tools veer off into unique patterns of failure.

What sounds like a far-off, ghosted folk rendition (we're reminded of the Icelandic laments that Rabelais chewed up on 'Spellewauerynsherde') is offset by gnarled, bitcrushed machine faults and pneumatic lip smacks on the brilliant 'Residue', and on 'Brushed My Hair', the duo massage the voice until it sounds like a flute. Assembling stutters and barks and sighs into a celestial chorus alongside time-stretched moans, they create a levitational atmosphere on 'Smell It', freezing the energy from bizarre pitch steps to configure a zonked vocal ensemble.

'Joy, Oh I Missed You’ is an album that, like its source material, constantly morphs, testing the boundaries of its concept repeatedly without bubbling over into conceptual goo. In fact, it's remarkably euphonious, even at its most theoretically abrasive; Duncombe and Wennborg wring out uniquely angelic formations through a process of trial and error that packs a surprising, hefty emotional punch.

Studio, the influential project of Swedish musicians Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, presents their legendary 2006 debut in remastered form, in partnership with Ghostly International. Available in limited edition "Fog Machine Vinyl", CD, and cassette. "One of the finest pieces of electronic music you'll hear this year.” - The Guardian (2006). Included in year-end best-of write-ups by Pitchfork, FACT Magazine, and Rough Trade. Physical copies have long been out of print for West Coast, and the album has also been notably absent from most streaming services until now.

“Somehow, I knew I wanted to make a conceptual record that, although only imaginary at that point, could represent or define how our city sounded,” says Lissvik of Gothenburg's influence on West Coast. Some called Studio, the project of Swedish musicians Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, “the missing link between The Cure and Lindstrøm,” Pitchfork heard Durutti Column and Can, as the duo’s story became swept up in a loosely developing scene — adjacent first to the label Service (Jens Lekman, The Whitest Boy Alive) and later Sincerely Yours (The Tough Alliance, jj) — and a precursor to the 2010s boom at the axis of electronic and psychedelic music guided by indie greats like Caribou, Four Tet, and Darkside.

West Coast, their seminal 2006 debut, captured a faraway romanticism of Balearic brushed up against Krautrock, disco, dub, and afrobeat, with pop lyricism lifted from new wave, all made modern by two art school grads in Gothenburg. First pressed in a small vinyl-only run via their own Information label, the album has been notably absent from most streaming services, and the internet’s record of its initial impact is all but fossilized from a bygone blog era, while its sound is simply untraceable to any one moment in music.

Outside of three 7” releases, they’d keep the music to themselves for several more years. In 2005, Hägg remembers, “We got our degrees and were kicked out of our studio spaces so all these recordings were just piled up. A year later we dusted them off and started to deconstruct and assemble them in a more drawn-out fashion.” In the same breadth, they cite DJ Screw, J Dilla, and Joy Division, along with early ‘80s European live DJ sets from the likes of Beppe Loda, Dj Mozart, and Baldelli as reference points.

“The anything-goes mentality was very encouraging and was a big cornerstone to the Studio sound,” says Hägg. “But there’s so much more to the picture, we were not that young then and had lots of musical baggage in our suitcases, the new thing was that we finally let it all come through, not bound by any borders that was often the case with music identity in Sweden during the 90s.” In the afterglow of the record’s 2007 reception, Studio receded from view, clouded behind a mountain of remix requests (including one for Kylie Minogue that saw release) and label bureaucracy. “It’s easy to wish we would have done some proper recordings of our own instead,” Hägg reflects. But both artists, now well into respective careers beyond Studio, have come to peace with West Coast as their most enduring effort together. Lissvik adds, “It serves as a good reminder for me to keep to that decision and promise and to continue exploring and growing

Very Limited 7” EP with printed lyric inner sleeve

Purely Physical Teeny Tapes continue to sink their teeth into the fleshy nethers of the contemporary oz
underground, plucking the self-titled ep of vivisected bedroom folk by naarm/melbourne trio Who Cares?
from the recesses of net anonymity for the greatest of good.

Upon appearing out of nowhere back in ‘24, the quartet’s debut registered (feverishly) somewhere
between immediacy & beguilement, the intervening year & change doing little to dull its aura, the
mystique only heightened by their suitably gorgeous appearance in wonderful company on a colourful
storm’s recent ‘going back to sleep…’ compilation-extravaganza. The conceit of these four tracks here is
disarmingly minimal - repetitious loner guitar strummage, oblique vox poetics as lullaby, intermittent
sunken percussion, bass the subtle melodic lugger - all recurring/revolving in delicious pirouette freefall,
un-rinseable within the mind, wayward melodies stuck like heat-warped treacle.

As with the firmest of its diy domestica ilk, there’s something ever so slightly off here, the carnivalesque
nature of this thing being the ‘what?’ that keeps pulling you in. parched ennui drip, fully zonked bacchanal
(anti-)energetics, listlessness rendered bedsit anthem, cooees in the hallway. depending on how your
head is screwed, ‘correct’ or otherwise, one might hear a charmed take on a vein of folk song fallen well
by the wayside/behind the mantle, others a seance for the spirits in the kettle, others more attuned to the
myriad wraiths swirling within the outer reaches of these songs, flights of whimsy foiled by a sticky, gluey
something or other. choose, or rather submit to your own adventure. Miaow miaow miaow.

Soul Jazz Records new Junglist! is a heavyweight new selection of classic and rare original jungle and features Krome & Time, Cutty Ranks, M-Beat, Bizzy B, Lemon D, Top Cat and more. 
Junglist! tells the story of how jungle and reggae came together to produce some of the heaviest tunes ever made. Get ready for more pounding basslines, fierce Amen breaks and heavyweight ragga vocals — strictly original jungle style from the earliest days of drum and bass. 
All these tracks date from 1993-95, at the height of jungle.

A chopped-and-screwed love letter to the sounds of rebajada – half-speed cumbia, pioneered by Sonido Dueñez in the 1990s, and born from an overheated turntable motor that didn’t make the crowd stop dancing. With Debit’s treatment, rebajada becomes an ethereal, at times intense ambient tapestry that’s also a history lesson.

Spend any amount of time pacing the streets of Monterrey, the bustling city in the north of Mexico where Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, grew up, and you’ll be sure to catch traces of cumbia echoing from Bluetooth speakers, DIY soundsystems, or car stereos. An Afro-Latin dance form and »practica cultural« originating in Colombia in the early 19th century, cumbia evolved rapidly in the early 1900s, as a localised sound played on drums and flutes quickly modernised to integrate European instrumentation like the accordion. When it reached Mexico in the 1940s, the sound shifted again, fusing with mariachi styles and integrating further vallenato folk elements. Eventually, cumbia spread across the entirety of Latin America, splintering into a spectrum of different musical styles such as chicha in Peru, and cumbia villera in Argentina. And over in Monterrey, cumbia inadvertently found its own idiosyncratic groove.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, waves of immigrants from across Mexico and Latin America headed to Monterrey to find work, making a home in Colonia Independencia. Colombian cumbia records, shipped in from Mexico City, Houston, and Miami, became the soundtrack of the neighbourhood, relaying familiar stories to a rural working class adjusting to their new industrial reality. The sound struck a chord with locals, and huge street parties hosted by ramshackle soundsystems known as sonideros unified the diverse community. So when cumbia rebajada materialised serendipitously in the 1990s, it emphasised and highlighted the memory distortions at the heart of the immigrant experience. Local record collector, selector, and sonidero Gabriel Dueñez had been playing cumbia for hours one night when disaster struck: his turntable’s motor overheated and slowed down, turning the music into a warped groan, with half-speed voices echoing over wobbly accordion drones and splashy drums. But the crowd kept dancing, and Sonido Dueñez realised he’d struck gold – cumbia rebajada was born.

Over the next few years, he dubbed a popular series of mixtapes, hawking them at the flea market on the dried-up Santa Catarina riverbed beneath El Puente del Papa, the bridge that links downtown Monterrey with Independencia. These woozy archives became the stuff of legend, poetically but subconsciously shadowing DJ Screw’s series of epochal cassettes that appeared over the border in Houston. Beatriz uses Sonido Dueñez’s first two tapes as the starting point for »Desaceleradas«, entering into a dialogue with time, culture, and geography as she recalls the sonic ecosystem that surrounded her decades ago, long before she emigrated to the USA. If 2022’s acclaimed »The Long Count« was an attempt to recover concealed pre-Columbian history in the face of colonisation, »Desaceleradas« jumps forward, figuring out how memory and shared celebration can resist a more contemporary form of cultural erasure. As AI systems scrape, blend, and decontextualise culture around us, leaving vapid slop, »Desaceleradas« proposes a slower, more careful, and ultimately more human kind of engagement. It’s an archive with a pulse.

Repress!

200 COPIES ONLY

Nils Frahm has unexpectedly confirmed details of a new collection of solo piano music, his first album since 2022’s three-hour Music For Animals. Day will be released by LEITER on March 1st, 2024, and it will be available on limited edition vinyl as well as via all digital platforms. Recorded in the summer of 2022 in complete solitude and away from his studio at Berlin’s famed Funkhaus complex, it is preceded by a single, ‘Butter Notes’, out on January 19. Day may come as a surprise to those who, over the last decade, have watched Frahm shift slowly away from the piano compositions with which he first made his name in favour of a nonetheless still-distinctive approach that’s considerably more instrumentally complex and intricately arranged. In addition, in 2021, having spent the early part of the pandemic arranging his archives, he released the 80 minute, 23-track Old Friends New Friends, a compilation of previously unreleased piano music intended to enable him to ”start over” with a clean slate. Judging from the extended, ambient nature of Music For Animals, it proved a successful gambit, but Frahm has never been able to resist returning to his first love, and those who enjoyed earlier acclaimed albums like The Bells, Felt and Screws will once again revel in Day’s familiar, personal style. Day, which contains six tracks, three over the six-minute mark, is the first in a pair of albums Frahm has lined up for 2024. In keeping with their nature, however, he won’t be making a song and dance about the release. Instead, he’ll resume his ongoing world tour, which has already included fifteen sold-out dates at Berlin’s Funkhaus as well as a show at Athen’s Acropolis. It will continue with shows all over the world, among them several sold-out dates at London’s Barbican in July 2024, where he previously curated a weekend of music, film and art, Possibly Colliding, in 2016. The album is best enjoyed in the manner in which it was recorded, in the intimacy of a peaceful, cosy room. There are muffled pedal creaks on the cyclical, quietly jazzy ‘You Name It’ and, during the palliative ripples of ‘Butter Notes’’ arpeggios, the sound of dogs barking in the streets outside. The compassionate, hesitant ‘Tuesdays’ and emotionally ambiguous ‘Towards Zero’ linger with the poignant persistence of Harold Budd’s earliest work, while ‘Hands On’ is a sometimes brighter, airier tune that sets its own, deliberate pace, and, as he has on occasions before, ‘Changes’ sees Frahm employing elements of his instrument’s construction in a ‘prepared piano’ fashion. Characterised by its confidential mood, Day confirms that, while Frahm is arguably now best known for elaborate, celebratory concerts calling upon an arsenal of pianos, organs, keyboards, synths, even a glass harmonica, he’s still a prolific master of affecting simplicity, tenderness and romance.

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

Wild and untamed Swedish teenage heavy metal from 1981-1985. Includes their ultra rare single plus previously unreleased studio recordings. The album includes a booklet with interviews and photos documenting TRP’s wild stage shows and the local Swedish hard rock youth gangs of the 1980s. Blood splattered vinyl - limited edition of 600 copies worldwide.

The teenage boys that formed TRP came together in the small town of Fjälkinge outside of Kristianstad in southern Sweden back in 1981. In 1982 they recorded and released their legendary after single. They immediately became very popular with the local hard rock you gang’s attracting wild and rowdy crowds.

TRP performed wild and loud shows gilded by the bands furious use of pyrotechnics, smoke bombs, leather, studs and gallons of fake blood.

Their stage show combined with their music got the band banned in Sweden and it was said that they were obscene and promoted satanism.

The band didn’t let that stop them and instead they went into a studio and recorded several tracks with their new lead guitarist. However, these amazing recordings were never released...until now that is. Then in 1985 TRP performed their last show. Their final stand was heavy metal mayhem supreme and the whole stage went up in flames.

“I had welded a guitar slide with one end closed and filled it with chimney test smoke, then I screwed it to the top of the neck of the bass. It burned constantly for two songs, but the effect was cool. We spat blood, as usual, and Peter just kept firing off bombs like crazy. He managed to shoot one right up into Fredrik’s ass during a guitar solo…”

“On course towards future raucous, beer-soaked headline festival
sets.” - NME
“Screw-you power, relentless motorik rhythms and impressively large
choruses.” - The Guardian
“Unrelenting, gritty energy” - Daily Star
Sprints unearth their frenzied new EP, ‘Manifesto’, out via Nice Swan
Records.
Produced by Daniel Fox of Girl Band - Dublin’s answer to Steve Albini
- the four tracks make for a hard-hitting gloom-punk journey you
can’t miss. Like the Irish guitar acts who have paved the way for
them - Fontaines D.C., Silverbacks and Girl Band - Sprints sound
urgent and vital at every turn.
‘Swimming’ is a confluence of rabble-rousing stadium rock, sleazy
garage rock and Sonic Youth experimentation. Lyrically, there’s a lot
to hang on to too, which is unsurprising given how topical the band
are: ‘Drones’ took on imposter syndrome; ‘Manifesto’ tackled
homophobia.
‘Swimming’ scorns on the increasing lack of opportunity after
following prescribed paths to become society’s idea of a ‘success’.
Sprints singer Karla Chubb explains: “While the homeless crisis
worsens, the city is sinking in debt and everyone can barely keep
their heads above water, you see an article stating that a new €25
million white water rafting centre is being developed after approval
by Dublin City Council. Sometimes you’d just rather drown.”
Sprints have hit a nerve. The velocity of this argument comes from
personal anguish but will chime with a generation. And with such
honesty running through their core it’s no wonder The Guardian,
NME and BBC Radio 1 and 6Music have tipped them for big things.
Tourdates - October 7 Roisin Dubh Galway, 8 Kasbah Limerick, 9 The
Grand Social Dublin, 21 The Waiting Room London, 23 Heartbreakers
Southampton, 26 Sneaky Pete’s Edinburgh, 27 The Attic Glasgow, 28 The
Castle Manchester, 30 The Sunflower Lounge Birmingham, 31 Bootleg Social
Blackpool, November 2 Surf Cafe Newcastle, 3 Sidney & Matilda Sheffield, 6
Mutations Festival Brighton, 7 Festival of Voice Cardiff, 9 The Shipping
Forecast Liverpool, 10 Oporto Leeds.

Studio, the influential project of Swedish musicians Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, presents their legendary 2006 debut in remastered form, in partnership with Ghostly International. Available in limited edition "Fog Machine Vinyl", CD, and cassette. "One of the finest pieces of electronic music you'll hear this year.” - The Guardian (2006). Included in year-end best-of write-ups by Pitchfork, FACT Magazine, and Rough Trade. Physical copies have long been out of print for West Coast, and the album has also been notably absent from most streaming services until now.

“Somehow, I knew I wanted to make a conceptual record that, although only imaginary at that point, could represent or define how our city sounded,” says Lissvik of Gothenburg's influence on West Coast. Some called Studio, the project of Swedish musicians Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, “the missing link between The Cure and Lindstrøm,” Pitchfork heard Durutti Column and Can, as the duo’s story became swept up in a loosely developing scene — adjacent first to the label Service (Jens Lekman, The Whitest Boy Alive) and later Sincerely Yours (The Tough Alliance, jj) — and a precursor to the 2010s boom at the axis of electronic and psychedelic music guided by indie greats like Caribou, Four Tet, and Darkside.

West Coast, their seminal 2006 debut, captured a faraway romanticism of Balearic brushed up against Krautrock, disco, dub, and afrobeat, with pop lyricism lifted from new wave, all made modern by two art school grads in Gothenburg. First pressed in a small vinyl-only run via their own Information label, the album has been notably absent from most streaming services, and the internet’s record of its initial impact is all but fossilized from a bygone blog era, while its sound is simply untraceable to any one moment in music.

Outside of three 7” releases, they’d keep the music to themselves for several more years. In 2005, Hägg remembers, “We got our degrees and were kicked out of our studio spaces so all these recordings were just piled up. A year later we dusted them off and started to deconstruct and assemble them in a more drawn-out fashion.” In the same breadth, they cite DJ Screw, J Dilla, and Joy Division, along with early ‘80s European live DJ sets from the likes of Beppe Loda, Dj Mozart, and Baldelli as reference points.

“The anything-goes mentality was very encouraging and was a big cornerstone to the Studio sound,” says Hägg. “But there’s so much more to the picture, we were not that young then and had lots of musical baggage in our suitcases, the new thing was that we finally let it all come through, not bound by any borders that was often the case with music identity in Sweden during the 90s.” In the afterglow of the record’s 2007 reception, Studio receded from view, clouded behind a mountain of remix requests (including one for Kylie Minogue that saw release) and label bureaucracy. “It’s easy to wish we would have done some proper recordings of our own instead,” Hägg reflects. But both artists, now well into respective careers beyond Studio, have come to peace with West Coast as their most enduring effort together. Lissvik adds, “It serves as a good reminder for me to keep to that decision and promise and to continue exploring and growing

2026 Repress

Seit seinem kostenlosen Mixtape "LiveLoveA$AP" aus dem Jahr 2011 gehört A$AP Rocky zu den meistgehypten Rappern der neuen Hip Hop Generation. Mit seinen Songs "Peso", "Purple Swag" und seiner aktuellen Single "F#king Problems" hat er in der Hip Hop Blog Welt eingeschlagen wie ein Komet. Sein Rap-Style speist sich sowohl aus Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Mobb Deep und The Diplomats, als auch der Down South-Ästhetik von UGK, DJ Screw und Three 6 Mafia. Sphärischer Hipster-Hip Hop von Produzenten wie Clams Casino, Burn One, Beautiful Lou, A$AP Ty Beats und SpaceGhostpurrp, dazu Südstaaten-Drums mit Chop & Screw-Spaß und die Überheblichkeit, wie sie nur ein echter New Yorker rüberbringen kann.

"Hipster by heart, but I can tell you how the streets feel."

A$ap Rocky ist ein Star. Das erkennen nicht nur die Szene-Postillen recht schnell, sondern auch die Major-Industrie. Sony bekommt den Zuschlag und nimmt ihn und seine A$AP Crew unter Vertrag. Das Dollar-Zeichen im Namen steht ab sofort zurecht da.

Napalm Death's "Apex Predator – Easy Meat," released in 2015, is a visceral exploration of
societal and economic injustices, delivered with the band's trademark intensity. This album
presents an overwhelming spread of wildly diverse musical abrasion from the grind chiefs.
A contemporary noise classic, "Apex Predator" showcases the band's ability to innovate
within the extreme music genre.

Napalm Death's "Apex Predator – Easy Meat," released in 2015, is a visceral exploration of
societal and economic injustices, delivered with the band's trademark intensity. This album
presents an overwhelming spread of wildly diverse musical abrasion from the grind chiefs.
A contemporary noise classic, "Apex Predator" showcases the band's ability to innovate
within the extreme music genre.

Napalm Death's "Apex Predator – Easy Meat," released in 2015, is a visceral exploration of
societal and economic injustices, delivered with the band's trademark intensity. This album
presents an overwhelming spread of wildly diverse musical abrasion from the grind chiefs.
A contemporary noise classic, "Apex Predator" showcases the band's ability to innovate
within the extreme music genre.

tapetopia 006 In 1983, some more subdued sounds began to waft from the GDR punk underground into the second half of the ’80s. At five to the end of time, it was perpetually striking midnight and the occasional punk band would mix a little laudanum into their potential for aggression. Portents in this vein preceded a dark wave whose foamy crest would break on fog walls of dry ice. Especially in Leipzig and East Berlin, a chain-rattling zeitgeist produced bands that drew from a dark well. Many of these bands arose from the still hot or already cold ashes of punk. The two founding fathers of Neuntage Alt, René Glofke and Taymur Streng (nicknamed “Strangler”), knew each other from the East Berlin punk scene. The third man aboard, Mike Sauer, played drums in the early 1980s for Sendeschluß, a punk band that, lost in thought somewhere in the no-man’s land between punk and post-punk, faded away in 1984. Punk was no longer the order of the day, but it was a form of expression among many and easy to combine. Glofke and Streng found common ground in experimental set-ups with such otherworldly names as Medusa Brahma or Die zeitweilige Erscheinung.
From this far-flung point of departure, a short tunnel led straight into the black light of Neuntage Alt, the coldest star in the low-hanging sky above East Berlin. Neuntage Alt appeared at the end of 1986, during the last blackout phase of the GDR, on the threshold between the underground and the so-called “other bands” – a scene that used the non-socio-critical approach of German Wutwave (“anger wave”) in order to be allowed to perform publicly. In the context of this scene, Neuntage Alt did not belong to the inner circle. Moreover, the band’s subcultural base was initially in Mahlsdorf, on the south-eastern edge of East Berlin. This was where the DIY sound studio of amplitude apostle and great modulator Taymur Streng was situated. Strangler held the position of house electrician and keyboard god in various projects. One of them had the bland alias Mahlsdorfer Wohnstuben Orchester, behind which the avant-garde court chapel of the bungalow studio was concealed. There Taymur also conspired with the East Berlin underground band Ornament & Verbrechen (tapetopia #001). Ronald Lippok of Ornament & Verbrechen remembers how once, at the opening of a joint session, he and his brother Robert attended Taymur’s engaging slide show of his collection of test patterns. Afterwards, they created a piece with the psychedelic title “Das sentimentale UfO”, which sheds an iridescent light on the bizarre atmosphere in the studio. Taymur’s obsession with technology was legendary. The home studio was also his living space; a circuit, a machine park of screwed and soldered equipment, a single keyboard orgy. His own creations were also based on circuit diagrams found in the radio amateur magazine “Funkamateur”. Its somewhat clueless subtitle “Praktische Elektronik Für Alle” (Practical Electronics for All)

Wer sich auf den Weg nach Louisiana macht, kehrt meist nicht auf dem gleichen Weg wieder zurück. Die Songs von BROTHER DEGE atmen die schwüle Luft der sumpfigen Wälder im Mississippi-Delta und beschwören die Geister der Bayous herauf. In den Adern des für den GRAMMY Award nominierten Singer & Songwriter Dege Legg, der seine musikalische Heimat an den Kreuzwegen aus mitreißendem Rock'n'Roll, wortgewandtem American Folk und psychedelischer Glückseligkeit gefunden hat, fließt das heiße Blut seiner Heimat in Form von surrenden Slide-Gitarren, unverfälschtem Gesang und schweißgetränkter Poesie. Mit der Magie des tiefen amerikanischen Südens zieht BROTHER DEGE auf seinem sechsten Album "Aurora" die Hörer in den Banner seiner üppigen musikalischen Welt. Sein Aufstieg fand beinahe im Stillen statt und das, obwohl der Amerikaner zig Millionen Streams generiert hat und seine breite Anerkennung sogar von keinem geringeren als Quentin Tarantino honoriert wurde, der persönlich den Song "Too Old to Die Young" für eine Schlüsselsequenz in seinem Film "Django Unchained" auswählte. Die Musik von Dege Legg lässt kühne Hooks über einer Unterströmung aus bluesiger Verzerrung aufblitzen. Dabei kanalisiert er seine Liebe für die Klassiker der Siebziger und Achtziger in einer höchst individuellen Variante des Southern Rock in den Sound des 21. Jahrhunderts. Aus diesem stilistischen Nebel erwächst eine unvergleichliche Klangvision, die Alt-Americana gleichermaßen Schärfe und Gusto verleiht. Als Dege Legg im Jahr 2004 unter dem Namen BROTHER DEGE mit seinem Debütalbum "Trailerville" in der Szene des Südens aufkreuzte, war sein höchst individueller Sound bereits voll ausgeprägt. Schon der zweite Langspieler "Folk Songs of the American Longhair" brachte gleich mehrere Hymnen hervor, darunter auch "Too Old to Die Young". Dege Legg nutzte diesen Schwung, um gleich eine ganze Reihe von Fan-Favoriten zu veröffentlichen: "How To Kill A Horse" (2013), "Scorched Earth Policy" (2015) und "Farmer's Almanac" (2018). Es lässt sich nicht leugnen, dass BROTHER DEGE stark von der Musik und den Klängen des Deep South der USA beeinflusst ist, gegen die er in seiner wilden Jugend noch rebellierte. Doch obwohl seine Wurzeln stark hervortreten, übersetzt der amerikanische Gitarrist und Sänger die Songs seines neuen Meisterwerks "Aurora" noch einen Schritt weiter in die universelle Sprache des Rock'n'Roll. Aber Vorsicht: Wer sich einfach zurücklehnt, die Augen schließt und dieses wunderbare Album auf sich wirken lässt, könnte in Louisiana aufwachen!

Wer sich auf den Weg nach Louisiana macht, kehrt meist nicht auf dem gleichen Weg wieder zurück. Die Songs von BROTHER DEGE atmen die schwüle Luft der sumpfigen Wälder im Mississippi-Delta und beschwören die Geister der Bayous herauf. In den Adern des für den GRAMMY Award nominierten Singer & Songwriter Dege Legg, der seine musikalische Heimat an den Kreuzwegen aus mitreißendem Rock'n'Roll, wortgewandtem American Folk und psychedelischer Glückseligkeit gefunden hat, fließt das heiße Blut seiner Heimat in Form von surrenden Slide-Gitarren, unverfälschtem Gesang und schweißgetränkter Poesie. Mit der Magie des tiefen amerikanischen Südens zieht BROTHER DEGE auf seinem sechsten Album "Aurora" die Hörer in den Banner seiner üppigen musikalischen Welt. Sein Aufstieg fand beinahe im Stillen statt und das, obwohl der Amerikaner zig Millionen Streams generiert hat und seine breite Anerkennung sogar von keinem geringeren als Quentin Tarantino honoriert wurde, der persönlich den Song "Too Old to Die Young" für eine Schlüsselsequenz in seinem Film "Django Unchained" auswählte. Die Musik von Dege Legg lässt kühne Hooks über einer Unterströmung aus bluesiger Verzerrung aufblitzen. Dabei kanalisiert er seine Liebe für die Klassiker der Siebziger und Achtziger in einer höchst individuellen Variante des Southern Rock in den Sound des 21. Jahrhunderts. Aus diesem stilistischen Nebel erwächst eine unvergleichliche Klangvision, die Alt-Americana gleichermaßen Schärfe und Gusto verleiht. Als Dege Legg im Jahr 2004 unter dem Namen BROTHER DEGE mit seinem Debütalbum "Trailerville" in der Szene des Südens aufkreuzte, war sein höchst individueller Sound bereits voll ausgeprägt. Schon der zweite Langspieler "Folk Songs of the American Longhair" brachte gleich mehrere Hymnen hervor, darunter auch "Too Old to Die Young". Dege Legg nutzte diesen Schwung, um gleich eine ganze Reihe von Fan-Favoriten zu veröffentlichen: "How To Kill A Horse" (2013), "Scorched Earth Policy" (2015) und "Farmer's Almanac" (2018). Es lässt sich nicht leugnen, dass BROTHER DEGE stark von der Musik und den Klängen des Deep South der USA beeinflusst ist, gegen die er in seiner wilden Jugend noch rebellierte. Doch obwohl seine Wurzeln stark hervortreten, übersetzt der amerikanische Gitarrist und Sänger die Songs seines neuen Meisterwerks "Aurora" noch einen Schritt weiter in die universelle Sprache des Rock'n'Roll. Aber Vorsicht: Wer sich einfach zurücklehnt, die Augen schließt und dieses wunderbare Album auf sich wirken lässt, könnte in Louisiana aufwachen!

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

Sam Barker returns with his first solo EP since 2020's BARKER002, this time on Oslo's Smalltown Supersound. While Barker's previous releases (2018's Debiasing EP, 2019's Utility LP) explored the possibilities of kickless dancefloor tracks, Unfixed sees him inverting the musical equation and exploring both the variability and sonic possibilities of a kick-drum - though the final result is not a concept EP. The four tracks emerged from a session that started out as both a technical study in bass drum design and cognition, specifically problem of "functional fixedness", which describes a mental block that restricts the use of an object to its traditional application. Exploring the so-called "generic parts technique", whereby an object is broken down into its component parts to help reveal novel solutions, the typical bass drum elements of waveform, transient, and noise were re-combined through modular synthesis to become fluid, expressive and dynamic. However, what began as a rule-based experiment was overtaken by a more organic music making process without specific conceptual constraints, which allowed the music to live and breathe. Tracks were started and then left unfinished, only to be approached again and again over lengthy intervals. Stylistically the result a mix of raw, stuttering, psychedelic growl, kosmische techno, and infinite iterations and of a single groove. In this regard, Unfixed sees Barker not only deeply invested in musical experimentation but also exploring his own biases in both composition and sound design. The result is, once again, a sound and musical framework all of his own.

In August of 2007, the Port Arthur duo of Bun B and Pimp C known as UGK released their epic fifth studio album, Underground Kingz. Sadly, this was the last release recorded by Pimp C before his untimely death in December of the same year. Production was overseen
by legendary Rap-A-Lot producer N.O. Joe and Pimp C himself with contributions from Three 6 Mafia, Jazze Pha, Lil Jon, Scarface, Swizz Beatz, and Marly Marl among others. The second single "Int'l Players Anthem (I Choose You) was nominated for a Grammy and won video of the year at BET's 2008 Music Awards.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Symphony No. 107 –The Bard, a previously unheard archival recording of the legendary improvising ensemble MEV (Musica Elettronica Viva), captured in concert at Bard College, New York in 2012. Formed by a group of American expat composers in Rome in 1966, the MEV ensemble played an important role in the development of free improvisation, bridging the live electronics tradition begun by Cage and Tudor and the high-energy squall of free jazz. Early recordings like Spacecraft or The Sound Pool unleash volleys of metal and glass amplified with contact microphones, howling winds, primitive synthesizer bleep and raucous audience participation, the intensity of which puts much later ‘noise’ to shame. In later decades, the ensemble would go through many iterations, often including legendary free players like Steve Lacy and George Lewis. In its final years, MEV settled into the core trio of founding members heard here: Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum, using piano, electronics, and small instruments.

Curran, Rzewski, and Teitelbaum were life-long friends blessed, as Curran says, with ‘incompatible personalities’: major figures in the post-Cagean experimental tradition, they explored countless divergent and even contradictory paths as composers and performers, from agitprop songs to brainwave-controlled synthesis. MEV is the sound of these three personalities coming together, their contributions radically individual yet attaining a state of ‘fundamental unity’ that Rzewski, in a text written in the collective’s earliest years, defined as the ‘final goal of improvisation’. Of course, listeners familiar with aspect of the trio’s individual works might hazard some guesses about who is doing what: the crisp piano figures are probably Rzewski’s, the cut-up hip-hop samples most likely Curran’s, the sliding, squelching synth possibly Teitelbaum’s. But often these identities are dissolved in a constantly shifting hall of mirrors, the listener unable to tell which of these pianos is live and which is a sample of a past virtuoso, or whether a horn blast derives from ethnographic documentation or Curran cutting loose on Shofar. The two side-long sets here occupy a similar terrain of constantly shifting texture and instrumentation, unexpected interruptions, and moments of sudden beauty. The first set is sparser, at times almost ominous, as a bell repeatedly sounds across wheezing harmonica, seasick orchestral textures, and creaking wood, making room for episodes of yodelling and delicate prepared piano before exploding into a storm of buzzing synth and piano fragments. The second set is more frenetic, moving rapidly across centuries and continents: cars crash into post-serial piano pointillism, wailing voices collide with chopped and screwed hip-hop samples, Hollywood strings are buried under layers of electronic gurgles. The performance slows in its final moments, making way for a sampled voice repeating the phrase ‘protest and the good of the world’, reminding us that MEV’s idea of freedom was always more than musical. Symphony No. 107 –The Bard is a beautifully recorded example of the endlessly multi-layered later MEV sound, accompanied by new liner notes by Alvin Curran (now the only surviving member of the group) and a selection of previously unseen photographs from across the many decades of the group’s activity. Arriving in an elegant sleeve bearing a beautiful photograph by Francis Zhou of the Olin Hall at Bard College where the concert was recorded, this is an essential document from a major group in the history of experimental music. As Rzewski wrote, this music is ‘like life, unpredictable, sometimes making sense, mostly not’.

After 3 individual pieces on the Hamburg label PUDEL PRODUKTE, the longplaying work of the man from the Pension Stammheim is finally released. It quickly becomes clear that this is a real capacity record: 6 (on vinyl) or 8 pieces (on electricity) from the cosmos of a man who means business. You can already tell by the fact that the record is only called ROTTE and not something else. Rotte makes ROTTE and nothing named, nothing labelled, nothing carefree commodes and prisoners certainly not.

It is relatively easy to approach ROTTE. Just listen and do nothing else. No, nothing. Nothing at all. Don't give away flowers, smoke cows, talk yourself or listen to the net. Don't try to get out of the Bermuda Triangle in the process! Concentrate as if you were reading a book by Suhrkamp. Be action-less in the here and jazz. Beat the six kinds of wood out of the coffin and leave only the steel screws!

Take Rotte and ROTTE seriously. Man and work. With him, though, black is absolutely a colour. My ketamine is my petrol. First Takes only. Drilling without Club of Gore. Undisputed truth. No Lounge. The lyrics on Rotte are not a party.

It might seem a bit TOO colourless, a bit TOO intense, a bit TOO hard and dark. Too much psycho-babble. But the songs bring it and you. They are designed in such a way that nothing else works during them. Nobody would think of peeling an egg at Russian roulette. That's how you have to see it.

The songs were musically supervised by Jörn Elling Wuttke and Oliver Bradford (Thee Church Ov Acid House), by DIE NERVEN producer Ralv Milberg, by Douglas Creed (BPitch Control + Freude am Tanzen), Boris Nielsen (Käptn Peng) and Peter Armster.

There is a congenial mutual autocorrection between lyrics and music. Individually, this cannot be heard and it is not offered. By the way, you don't hear anything else at the Federal Criminal Police Office at the moment. So please.

A1 Fliege gegen Scheibe
Written & produced by Oliver Bradford, Jörn Elling Wuttke, Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

A2 Butterbrot und Peitsche
Written & produced by Peter Armster, Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

A3 Gaffa, Farbe und Zustimmung
Written & produced Jörn Elling Wuttke, Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

B1 Autosuggestion
Written by Boris Nielsen, Christian Rottler, produced by Boris Nielsen, Marc Eggert
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

B2 Deichtorhallen
Written & produced by Oliver Bradford, Jörn Elling Wuttke und Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

B3 Dunkelwach
Written by Mario Willms, Christian Rottler, produced by Mario Willms
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

I was lucky enough to release Godflesh 'Love is a dog from Hell' on my old label Pathological many moons ago. I was equally lucky to drop JK Flesh 'In Your Pit' on my new label PRESSURE three years ago, and then follow that up with the G36 vs JK Flesh sound clash 'Disintegration Dubs' last year. Justin has consistently handed me pure audio gold, and actually gifted me some of my favourite releases from him full stop, in an incredible career of riches which he has tirelessly. produced since Napalm Death til today. So again, I’m now totally psyched to drop 'Sewer Bait' on my label PRESSURE. The sixth album from JK Flesh, this album is a Slo-mo, Slo-fi, Sewer tech journey into utter gutter level filth. Overdriven, corroded, corrupted and absolutely blasted, it contains so many essential elements of clubland low life, but yet manages to remain beautifully original whilst pushing all levels deep into the red until it hurts in the best possible way. Anyone hooked on Andy Stott's dirtiest works, Porter Ricks deepest explorations or Techno Animal's speaker punishing grooves will find addictive nourishment within these relentlessly distorted heavyweight grooves.... Not so much hard as completely f-ckin brutal, the master stroke from Justin Broadrick however, is takin his raw materials and feeding them militantly into the dub chamber. This is like a wholesale destruction of Techno, 4/4 for people too wasted and strung out to give a f-ck about dancefloors, yet compelling enough and magnetic enough to completely insist upon fully body hypnotism in an undersized room with an oversized rig. The album's title track sounds like Drum & Bass don Digital or the peak of the Metalheadz label dragged down into hell for the ultimate bad rave trip, whilst 'Crawler' could be Killing Joke, jammin with Regis and his aggro allies from Birmingham Techno's underappreciated discography, deep in a warehouse warzone. You don’t have to dig techno to dig this dirt, you just have to enjoy having your head taken off and your body physically punished. If Jeff Mills output had been chopped, screwed and then painfully, slowly crushed, it may resemble the monolithic, psychedelic, crawl of 'Sewer Bait'.” – Kevin Martin

To those who embraced 2000’s Nixon—Lambchop’s fifth album, whose luscious country soul grooves provided the sprawling Nashville collective with a significant British breakthrough that even found them selling out London’s 2,500-capacity Royal Festival Hall—the deceptively gentle Is a Woman, delivered two years later, administered a quiet but compelling shock. Gone almost entirely was frontman Kurt Wagner’s euphoric, Curtis Mayfield-esque falsetto, replaced by a tranquil, contemplative vocal style; and instead of the joyfully warm brass arrangements that had encouraged Zero 7 to remix “Up With People,” one of Nixon’s standouts, pianist Tony Crow now took center stage, teasing out gentle, ingenious melodies. The contrast was acute.

To discover the true spirit of Is a Woman, however, one need only listen to the remarkable “My Blue Wave,” one of the band’s finest recordings to date. Here, Wagner depicts a world of helpless tragedy in which comfort can nonetheless be found in the smallest of gestures, as he journeys from the contented sight of his pets—“You lay around the house… Just bones and squirrels inside your head”—to recollections of a devastating phone call from friend and bandmate William Tyler: “And William called and tried to tell me /

That his sister’s boyfriend has just died / He’s not sure what to do / And I’m not sure what to tell him he should do / Sometimes William, we’re just screwed / In my blue wave.”

Collaboration between Broken English Club and Autumns exploring dub, post-punk atmospheres and political unrest. Debut EP is a bold and eclectic taster of this duo. Vacant Heads is the duo of Christian Donaghey (Autumns) and Oliver Ho (Broken English Club). Anyone familiar with their work, or underground electronic music in the last two decades, probably needs no further introduction. Having worked together (Autumns' album ‘Shortly After Nothing’ was released on Oliver’s ‘Death and Leisure’ label) and shared stages over the years. Vacant Heads was borne from a desire to collaborate on tracks and form a live unit.
Their debut self-titled EP is a bold taster of where Vacant Heads are at and where Vacant Heads are headed. These four tracks reek of a brutal and busted city - after-hours prowls with fuck all to do and nowhere to go. In “Crawling Up The Pisser”, Ho’s world-weary treatise on consumerism drools over the nag, nag, nag of the tightest and tautest post-punk electronics. “Heavy Rain Dub” is a ten-minute low-end cruiser. A deep, Digi-dub riddim underpins clarinet squalls, jaw harp twang and screwed vocals that feel like a nocturnal trip into Chris Morris’ ‘Blue Jam’…On Side B, “Street Toucher’s” rowdy snare hits, new wave synths and trademark distorted howl from Donagheyhint at the potential ferocity of their upcoming live shows. “Swan Dive” rounds off the EP - slowing down the tempo and pulling influence from the renegade sound of Adrian Sherwood’s revered production work with the likes of Tackhead and Keith LeBlanc. The heaviest breakbeats meet industrial churn and clipped vocal samples. Vacant Heads. Nothing up top. Pure body music.

DJ Different dons his Terraform alias as he begins his journey in ‘Entering The Void’ on CYBERDOME; exploring phat electro bass-lines and party-starting ghettotech energy with its crosshairs fixated firmly on the club environment.

Born and raised in the culturally rich city of Malmo, the Swedish producer has previously released on London based label Deeply Cultured, Distant Hawaii, Mood Of Era, 1Ø PILLS MATE and Traxx Underground, spanning atmospheric techno, ethereal breakbeat and chunky electro.

‘Ultrasonic’ is an ear-wriggling cut of stripped-back psychedelia. As David Holmes would say, all the best electronic music tracks are made up of only a few components. Here, typical electro synth stabs, robotic vocal sampling and sparse precision allows the track room to breathe, whilst maintaining a deep and funk-driven groove.

‘Ghettotech’ sounds how you would expect it to; pounding kicks, frantic atmospherics and lairy screw-face hype combine on a certified fire-starter, before ‘Exiting The Void’ introduces itself on a footwork vibe that evolves into a sequence of interstellar-dungeon dub-electro.

‘The Rise of the Slavs’ takes its inspiration from the diverse group of tribes who lived in Central and Eastern Europe in the 6th to 10th centuries, establishing the foundations for the Slavic nations; it’s marching rhythm beaming historical context into 21st Century dance music.

After releasing his self-titled debut album in 2017 (On Agitated AGIT044R), Dion Lunadon (The D4, ex-A Place To Bury Strangers) and In The Red Records is proud to release his sophomore album, Beyond Everything. Beyond Everything will be Lunadon’s first release on In The Red (an ideal match for his music), as well as his first full-length since departing A Place To Bury Strangers. Written, performed and recorded by himself, the songs tap into a raw, palpable energy that blur the line between the music and the person. Drums on the record were played by Blaze Bateh (Bambara) and Nick Ferrante (The Black Hollies). Lunadon says; “The record was written and recorded sporadically between 2017 and 2019. I probably wrote about one hundred songs during this period. The first album was pretty relentless which I liked, but I wanted to make something more dynamic for the second record. Something that could be more conducive to repeated listens. I’d get in my studio, come up with a song title, and start working on any ideas that I had. For example, with ‘Elastic Diagnostic,’ the idea was to create a hum that evokes the sound of life coursing through your body. Everything else kind of formed around that idea.” “An arresting, noise-infected dose of psych-garage.” on “It’s The Truth”—Brooklyn Vegan “An amped up garage psych ripper.” on “Living And Dying With You”—Brooklyn Vegan “A ferocious rocker.” on “Living And Dying With You”—Destroy Exist “A gritty and raw glam-like anthem centered around chugging power chords, Lunadon’s howled and desperate delivery, forceful and propulsive drumming paired with an explosive feedbackdriven coda, ‘It’s The Truth’ further cements the Kiwi-born, Brooklyn-based artist’s reputation for crafting anthems meant to be played as loud as humanly possible.” —Joy Of Violent Movement

Das siebte Studioalbum der ehrwürdigen Rock-Institution Titus Andronicus wurde produziert von Titus Andronicus Singer-Songwriter Patrick Stickles und dem preisgekrönten kanadischen Produzenten Howard Bilerman (ARCADE FIRE, LEONARD COHEN, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS) in dessen hotel2tango Aufnahmestudio in Montreal. Mit "The Will To Live" laden Titus Andronicus den Hörer auf eine Reise von der Angst zum Glauben, von der Wut zur Akzeptanz, von der Trauer zur Dankbarkeit ein, immer auf der Suche nach dem mythischen Ideal des ultimativen Rock. In Anlehnung an maximalistische Rock-Epen von "Who's Next" bis "Hysteria" hat die Band ihr bisher reichhaltigstes, dichtestes und härtestes Album geschaffen, das die Weite und den Umfang ihres meist gefeierten Werks erreicht und gleichzeitig ihren ehrgeizigen Angriff effektiver als je zuvor gestaltet. "It may strike some as ironic we had to go to Canada to record our equivalent to "Born In The USA," sagt Stickles, "but the pursuit of Ultimate Rock knows no borders." Titus Andronicus kehrten im November 2021 auf die Bühne zurück, um den Jahrestag ihres bahnbrechenden zweiten Albums "The Monitor" von 2010 zu feiern. Die Tatsache, dass sie dieses Material vor einem ekstatischen Publikum spielten, ließ Stickles entschlossen zurück, ein Album abzuliefern, das dieselben Höhen erreichen würde, wobei sie sich diesmal weniger auf das unbekümmerte Feuer der Jugend verließen, sondern mehr auf die Erfahrung und die Perspektive, zu der eine Band erst mit tausend Shows im Gepäck gelangt. Um diesen Grad an Konzentration und Klarheit zu erreichen, musste Stickles an der Schnittstelle zwischen Triumph und Tragödie stehen. Er schreibt seine neu gefundene häusliche Glückseligkeit und seine unerschütterliche mentale Gesundheit für seine persönliche Stabilität in letzter Zeit ebenso zu wie die Ausdauer der mittlerweile am längsten bestehenden Besetzung von Titus Andronicus - Liam Betson an der Gitarre, R.J. Gordon am Bass und Chris Wilson am Schlagzeug - die alle auf dem 2018er Album "A Productive Cough" und dem 2019er Album "An Obelisk" vertreten sind. Auf der grausameren Seite der Medaille entstand "The Will To Live" zum großen Teil als Versuch, den vorzeitigen Tod von Matt "Money" Miller, dem Gründungs-Keyboarder der Band und Stickles' engstem Cousin, im Jahr 2021 zu verarbeiten. Das Ergebnis erweist sich als Meilenstein für Titus Andronicus, ein ehrgeiziges, nach vorne gerichtetes Werk, das an der Schnittstelle von Triumph und Tragödie steht, angetrieben von neu gefundenem Fokus und Klarheit, und das eine einzigartig begabte Rock'n'Roll-Band auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer kreativen Kräfte zeigt.

Das siebte Studioalbum der ehrwürdigen Rock-Institution Titus Andronicus wurde produziert von Titus Andronicus Singer-Songwriter Patrick Stickles und dem preisgekrönten kanadischen Produzenten Howard Bilerman (ARCADE FIRE, LEONARD COHEN, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS) in dessen hotel2tango Aufnahmestudio in Montreal. Mit "The Will To Live" laden Titus Andronicus den Hörer auf eine Reise von der Angst zum Glauben, von der Wut zur Akzeptanz, von der Trauer zur Dankbarkeit ein, immer auf der Suche nach dem mythischen Ideal des ultimativen Rock. In Anlehnung an maximalistische Rock-Epen von "Who's Next" bis "Hysteria" hat die Band ihr bisher reichhaltigstes, dichtestes und härtestes Album geschaffen, das die Weite und den Umfang ihres meist gefeierten Werks erreicht und gleichzeitig ihren ehrgeizigen Angriff effektiver als je zuvor gestaltet. "It may strike some as ironic we had to go to Canada to record our equivalent to "Born In The USA," sagt Stickles, "but the pursuit of Ultimate Rock knows no borders." Titus Andronicus kehrten im November 2021 auf die Bühne zurück, um den Jahrestag ihres bahnbrechenden zweiten Albums "The Monitor" von 2010 zu feiern. Die Tatsache, dass sie dieses Material vor einem ekstatischen Publikum spielten, ließ Stickles entschlossen zurück, ein Album abzuliefern, das dieselben Höhen erreichen würde, wobei sie sich diesmal weniger auf das unbekümmerte Feuer der Jugend verließen, sondern mehr auf die Erfahrung und die Perspektive, zu der eine Band erst mit tausend Shows im Gepäck gelangt. Um diesen Grad an Konzentration und Klarheit zu erreichen, musste Stickles an der Schnittstelle zwischen Triumph und Tragödie stehen. Er schreibt seine neu gefundene häusliche Glückseligkeit und seine unerschütterliche mentale Gesundheit für seine persönliche Stabilität in letzter Zeit ebenso zu wie die Ausdauer der mittlerweile am längsten bestehenden Besetzung von Titus Andronicus - Liam Betson an der Gitarre, R.J. Gordon am Bass und Chris Wilson am Schlagzeug - die alle auf dem 2018er Album "A Productive Cough" und dem 2019er Album "An Obelisk" vertreten sind. Auf der grausameren Seite der Medaille entstand "The Will To Live" zum großen Teil als Versuch, den vorzeitigen Tod von Matt "Money" Miller, dem Gründungs-Keyboarder der Band und Stickles' engstem Cousin, im Jahr 2021 zu verarbeiten. Das Ergebnis erweist sich als Meilenstein für Titus Andronicus, ein ehrgeiziges, nach vorne gerichtetes Werk, das an der Schnittstelle von Triumph und Tragödie steht, angetrieben von neu gefundenem Fokus und Klarheit, und das eine einzigartig begabte Rock'n'Roll-Band auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer kreativen Kräfte zeigt.

LP comes with a Side D etching in triple gatefold jacket + full album download. The Will to Live was produced by Titus Andronicus singer-songwriter Patrick Stickles and Canadian icon Howard Bilerman (Arcade Fire, Leonard Cohen, The Whole Nine Yards) at the latter’s Hotel 2 Tango recording studio in Montreal. Drawing on maximalist rock epics from Who’s Next to Hysteria, Bilerman and Stickles have crafted the richest, densest, and hardest hitting sound for Titus Andronicus yet. All at once, the record matches the sprawl and scope of the band’s most celebrated work, while also honing their ambitious attack to greater effect than ever before. “It may strike some as ironic we had to go to Canada to record our equivalent to Born in the USA,” quips Stickles, “but the pursuit of Ultimate Rock knows no borders. ”For his recent stretch of personal stability, he credits a newfound domestic bliss and steadfast mental health regimen (“Lamictal is a hell of a drug”) as well as the endurance of what has become the longest-running consistent lineup of Titus Andronicus—Liam Betson on guitar, R.J. Gordon on bass, and Chris Wilson on drums. On the crueler side of the coin, however, The Will to Live was created in large part as an attempt to process the untimely 2021 death of Matt “Money” Miller, the founding keyboardist of the band and Stickles’ closest cousin. Stickles explains: “The passing of my dearest friend forced me to recognize not only the precious and fragile nature of life, but also the interconnectivity of all life. Loved ones we have lost are really not lost at all, as they, and we still living, are all component pieces of a far larger continuous organism, which both precedes and succeeds our illusory individual selves, united through time by (you guessed it) the will to live.” “Naturally, though, our long-suffering narrator can only arrive at this conclusion through a painful and arduous odyssey through Hell itself,” he qualifies. “This is a Titus Andronicus record, after all.” When Titus Andronicus made their long-awaited return to the stage in 2021, it was to celebrate the anniversary of their landmark breakthrough The Monitor, and the act of playing that material before an ecstatic audience left the band determined to deliver an album that would reach for those same lofty heights, relying this time less on the reckless fire of youth and more on the experience and perspective at which a band only arrives with a thousand shows under their belt. Through this golden ratio, Titus Andronicus have arrived at the peak of their creative powers. From its adrenalizing opening instrumental “My Mother Is Going to Kill Me” to its wistful closing benediction “69 Stones,” The Will to Live conjures a vast landscape and sends the listener on a rocket ride from peak to vertiginous peak. Rock fans will find themselves a feast, whether they crave barn-burning rock anthems such as “(I’m) Screwed” and “All Through the Night,” rapid-fire lyrical gymnastics (“Baby Crazy”), symphonic punk throwdowns (“Dead Meat”), or an adventurous excursion into the darkness that delivers thrills as it breezes boldly past the 7 minute mark, “An Anomaly.” As if that wasn’t enough gas for the tank, The Will to Live features sterling contributions from members of the Hold Steady, Arcade Fire, and the E Street Band, as well as duets with the aforementioned Betson, former Titus Andronicus drummer Eric Harm, and Josée Caron of the Canadian rock band Partner. The album comes packaged with gorgeous triple-gatefold artwork by illustrious illustrator Nicole Rifkin, a Hieronymus Bosch–inspired triptych which mirrors the three-part structure of the narrator’s perilous voyage across the corresponding three sides of vinyl. All together, this esteemed ensemble, with Stickles and Bilerman determined and defiant at the helm, have found The Will to Live—now, the question is… will you?

SIDE A 1. My Mother is Going to Kill Me 2. (I’m) Screwed 3. I Can Not Be Satisfied 4. Bridge and Tunnel SIDE B 5. Grey Goo 6. Dead Meat 7. An Anomaly SIDE C 8. Give Me Grief 9. Baby Crazy 10. All Through the Night 11. We’re Coming Back 12. 69 Stones SIDE D Etching

Ten releases in the space of seven years and then…puff, then nothing (in Europe). Los Peyotes seemingly vanished into the smoke that they knew full well did us wrong. But now they’re back, ripping up the rule book once again to shower us with evil-hearted, spitfire garage punk rock'n'roll on an album that takes in and mashes up straight from the grave garage rock with doses of savage psychedelia and hip-shaking yé-yé. Prepare to be beaten, bastardised, and left twitching on the floor as they hit you with 13 brand new tracks. "They say we’re all the same. Long-haired freaks. Drugs, sex, and into everything filthy. Haters of authority. But Los Peyotes don’t give a damn." As they spit on the opening track, "People are sh+t", but hey, at least their dog ain’t! Screw the haters and critics, everyone thinks they’re one. Take a look around. But who cares when Los Peyotes are biting back with all the force they have? Cranked guitars, a stabbing Farfisa and those ever-present wild-eyed howls. Theirs is, and has always been, a garage that draws lines straight back to their furious forefathers; Los Saicos, The Sonics, Los Shakers, The Seeds; and on their new album, Virgenes, they keep not only the flame but the whole goddamn sin-fuelled incinerating city burning. They rise up in swirling insanity on tracks like No Puedo Aguantar Mas (I Can’t Take Anymore) before bringing everything crashing down on songs like the riotously spooky Dame Dinamita (Gimme Dynamite). And yeah, of course, everything is sung in Spanish, drawing a line firmly back to their musical ancestors who cranked up that British Invasion sound like nobody else to pave the way for proto-punk. All hail Los Peyotes! Prepare to get dosed once again. - Sir Nathan Whittle de Manchester Genre: Alternative / Garage / Punk

Track list: 01 La Gente Es Una Mierda 02 Soy La Droga 03 No Puedo Aguantar Mas 04 El Hombre De Dos Cabezas 05 Terrorista De La Musica 06 Mi Chica 07 Mi Planeta Rosa 08 No Quiero Crecer 09 Soy Asi 10 Cumbia Del Dolor 11 Dame Dinamita 12 Peyolove 13 Nada Pude Ver

How many forms can a drum break take across the course of one EP? Needing little introduction are TIN mainstays Frankel & Harper who, with the help of Bakey, help us get to an answer. Buffalo Skank EP is a celebration of breakbeat. Whilst proving the duo's prowess in rhythmic variety, there is an emphasis on fun as they form complex drum patterns only for them to be chopped and screwed into myriad formations. At times, an Amen break is accompanied by blissed-out atmospherics borrowed from old school dnb ("Buffalo Skank"). At others, an unapologetic rhythm drives forward as if crushing anything in its way ("Oblivion"). On "Taz &" ricocheting snares evoke the music of junglist Sully before Bakey strips them entirely in favour
of a more minimal sound.

Harrison Whitford, LA-based multi-instrumentalist, producer and songwriter, announces his new album Afraid Of Nothing, released via Screwdriver Records, building on his previous work, his delicate vocals and signature guitar tones being joined by lush layers of instrumentation. It's both emotionally devastating and sonically impressive, an immersive record that warmly embraces the listener. He has spent the last several years lending his warm, expressive guitar skills to Phoebe Bridgers (who lends backing vocals to select tracks on the album) and even when her music started being noticed, Harrison still felt the urge to flex that creative muscle. A departure from his previous method of writing and recording quickly, Afraid of Nothing is an album that has benefitted from the time afforded to Harrison from being able to truly focus. “Recording Afraid of Nothing taught me an important lesson: don't stop until you're happy with it,” Harrison says. Recording was seen as a constantly evolving process, every single kink ironed out until he was sure every track was how he envisaged it.

Boris Barksdale's first full length on the label is the final joyride of the human mind. Over two sides of screwed proto-beat, street electronics and twisted metal ambiance, Mind Over Matter picks apart the medias domination of the world we live in, drawing on internet advertising campaigns and social commentary to show you how messed up things have really become.

The record builds on from Boris' inclusion in Natural Sciences' Future Works & Age in Decline compilation series.

Sprints unveil details of their ‘A Modern Job’ EP, out on Nice Swan
Records.
 Lyrically, ‘Modern Job’ finds singer Karla Chubb at her sardonic and
angry best, detailing her own personal wish list: “I wish I had the guts / I
wish I had the gall / I wish I had a girl,” all set to cascading guitars and a
formidable rhythm section; working in unison to create unrelenting
tension, all the while echoing the subject matter Chubb explores in her
lyrics.
 On the new single, Karla offers the following: “‘Modern Job’ is a critique
of modern existence but also an exploration of growing up queer. In your
formative years, you are bombarded with media, books, news that depict
what a ‘normal’ life should be. Grow up, fall in love, get married… long
live the nuclear family.
 “By contrast when you grow up queer all these ordinary things can seem
extraordinary, out of reach and in some parts of the world, illegal. It
leaves you feeling lost, excluded and confused. I wanted ‘Modern Job’ to
capture those feelings; chaotic energy, loneliness and longing of
normality while trying to find acceptance within yourself.”
 Sprints have received support from the likes The Guardian, Clash, NME,
DIY and Dork, as well as love at Radio 1 and Radio 6 Music. Recent
single ‘How Does The Story Go?’ (also on the EP) was premiered by
Steve Lamacq, who praised it as “their best song yet! These guys are
going to be something,” The single was also leading in playlists from
NME, Loud & Quiet and others.
 Sprints combine guitar-driven hooks, motoric rhythm and emotive
lyricism to create a unique sound that pulls from garage, grunge, punk
and beyond. Like the Irish guitar acts who have paved the way for them -
Fontaines D.C., Silverbacks and Girl Band - the sound of Sprints is
urgent and vital at every turn.
 Sprints have hit a nerve. Driven by experience, tough political climates
and social and economic uncertainty - their music is honest, often
politically charged and authentic.
 “On course towards future raucous, beer-soaked headline festival sets.” -
NME
 “Screw-you power, relentless motorik rhythms and impressively large
choruses.” - The Guardian
 "Sprints may be the latest to emerge from Dublin’s fertile stable of guitarwielding new heroes, but their two-fingers-up, no-nonsense rattle ‘n’ roll
arrives as the natural heir to Amyl and the Sniffers’ grot punk” - DIY

"If you look at the band photo on Make Me Sick’s insert, you’ll see people from pretty much all the best and most popular hardcore punk bands in Pittsburgh for the past few years. These people know how to make great hardcore punk, and Make Me Sick is White Stains doing just that. While White Stains isn’t as as blistering as Loose Nukes or as brutally intense as Blood Pressure, that’s only because they’ve taken a different tack here, channeling the snotty, punky hardcore of bands like the Circle Jerks, Sick Pleasure, and Chronic Sick. Of those bands, Circle Jerks is the most apt comparison given how White Stains’ snottiness comes along with so much catchiness and rhythmic density. And like Group Sex, the drum parts are almost catchier than the riffs here… I need to be careful listening to this while driving because these songs might make steering seem less important than air drumming" (Daniel Lupton)