Suche:worship

Havukruunu's debut album HAVULINNAAN reissued in June Svart Records is proud to bring Havukruunu's 2015 debut album HAVULINNAAN back to the market on June 6th, 2025. HAVULINNAAN is filled to the brim with raw, bleak, unforgiven heavy metal mixed with spells from the very depths of the misty Finnish forests. Havukruunu's Stefa had this to say about the upcoming reissue: "INTO THE CONIFEROUS CASTLE….. Ten years ago, we didst unleash an abomination of immortal-worship, improvised guitar solos and a first glance of a certain type of spiritual freedom, the very first full-length Havukruunu album HAVULINNAAN and thus began our search. Experience our then meandering worry anew, through this humble, slightly remastered reissue through Svart records." HAVULINNAAN is available on Svart exclusive Black & White Marble vinyl, limited Clear & Blue Marble vinyl, classic Black vinyl, CD, and Cassette Tape editions.

More than 20 years after their debut, Witchcraft's seventh album, 'IDAG,' is an awaited full accounting of who they are as a band. Those who have clamored for the return to an earlier sound rooted in '70s classic progressive and heavy rock will delight to the strut of "Irreligious Flamboyant Flame" while the eight-minute opening title-track is the heaviest the band have ever sounded, and a succession of interspersed acoustic-based pieces helps create a vision of a new, soulfully folkish doom taking shape as they continue to move inexorably forward. Founding guitarist/vocalist, Magnus Pelander, says of 'IDAG': "This album will reap souls and destroy wicked minds. And perhaps mend a couple of broken ones." These enigmatic few words from the Swedish band's main songwriter give clues as to the songs' intentions; a reference dropped to Coven's 1969 album, 'Witchcraft Destroys Minds and Reaps Souls.' Coven also had a folkish, proto-doomed take at that point in their history, and that multifaceted nature has been a part of Witchcraft all along. On one level, Magnus is winkingly telling you it's a Witchcraft record. The actual meaning of that becomes clear when you hear the album and find out just how much 'a Witchcraft record' can encompass. The storyline of Witchcraft's growth, from Pelander's starting the band in Örebro in 2000 in the wake of his prior outfit Norrsken's disbanding. A generational landmark of a 2004 self-titled debut helped spark a retroist movement that has become its own subgenre, but Witchcraft never stopped growing. 2005's 'Firewood' and 2007's 'The Alchemist' introduced more progressive sounds, and five years later, the pointedly modern 'Legend' established in 2012 that they had moved beyond the analog worship they had been a part of pioneering within the contemporary heavy rock and doom scene. In 2016, the 2LP 'Nucleus' introduced fuller-toned doom, and 2020's 'Black Metal' diverged into moody acoustic minimalism familiar to some fans from Pelander's early solo work, but different from anything Witchcraft had done prior. 'IDAG,' then, is the tie that draws all of this - more than two decades of exploring and growth - together. Whatever they've done in the past and whatever they'll do in the future, 'IDAG' feels like a nexus for defining who and what Witchcraft are. Even crazier, that might be the point of the thing. JJ Koczan

More than 20 years after their debut, Witchcraft's seventh album, 'IDAG,' is an awaited full accounting of who they are as a band. Those who have clamored for the return to an earlier sound rooted in '70s classic progressive and heavy rock will delight to the strut of "Irreligious Flamboyant Flame" while the eight-minute opening title-track is the heaviest the band have ever sounded, and a succession of interspersed acoustic-based pieces helps create a vision of a new, soulfully folkish doom taking shape as they continue to move inexorably forward. Founding guitarist/vocalist, Magnus Pelander, says of 'IDAG': "This album will reap souls and destroy wicked minds. And perhaps mend a couple of broken ones." These enigmatic few words from the Swedish band's main songwriter give clues as to the songs' intentions; a reference dropped to Coven's 1969 album, 'Witchcraft Destroys Minds and Reaps Souls.' Coven also had a folkish, proto-doomed take at that point in their history, and that multifaceted nature has been a part of Witchcraft all along. On one level, Magnus is winkingly telling you it's a Witchcraft record. The actual meaning of that becomes clear when you hear the album and find out just how much 'a Witchcraft record' can encompass. The storyline of Witchcraft's growth, from Pelander's starting the band in Örebro in 2000 in the wake of his prior outfit Norrsken's disbanding. A generational landmark of a 2004 self-titled debut helped spark a retroist movement that has become its own subgenre, but Witchcraft never stopped growing. 2005's 'Firewood' and 2007's 'The Alchemist' introduced more progressive sounds, and five years later, the pointedly modern 'Legend' established in 2012 that they had moved beyond the analog worship they had been a part of pioneering within the contemporary heavy rock and doom scene. In 2016, the 2LP 'Nucleus' introduced fuller-toned doom, and 2020's 'Black Metal' diverged into moody acoustic minimalism familiar to some fans from Pelander's early solo work, but different from anything Witchcraft had done prior. 'IDAG,' then, is the tie that draws all of this - more than two decades of exploring and growth - together. Whatever they've done in the past and whatever they'll do in the future, 'IDAG' feels like a nexus for defining who and what Witchcraft are. Even crazier, that might be the point of the thing. JJ Koczan

Purple Vinyl, limited to 450 copies. More than 20 years after their debut, Witchcraft's seventh album, 'IDAG,' is an awaited full accounting of who they are as a band. Those who have clamored for the return to an earlier sound rooted in '70s classic progressive and heavy rock will delight to the strut of "Irreligious Flamboyant Flame" while the eight-minute opening title-track is the heaviest the band have ever sounded, and a succession of interspersed acoustic-based pieces helps create a vision of a new, soulfully folkish doom taking shape as they continue to move inexorably forward. Founding guitarist/vocalist, Magnus Pelander, says of 'IDAG': "This album will reap souls and destroy wicked minds. And perhaps mend a couple of broken ones." These enigmatic few words from the Swedish band's main songwriter give clues as to the songs' intentions; a reference dropped to Coven's 1969 album, 'Witchcraft Destroys Minds and Reaps Souls.' Coven also had a folkish, proto-doomed take at that point in their history, and that multifaceted nature has been a part of Witchcraft all along. On one level, Magnus is winkingly telling you it's a Witchcraft record. The actual meaning of that becomes clear when you hear the album and find out just how much 'a Witchcraft record' can encompass. The storyline of Witchcraft's growth, from Pelander's starting the band in Örebro in 2000 in the wake of his prior outfit Norrsken's disbanding. A generational landmark of a 2004 self-titled debut helped spark a retroist movement that has become its own subgenre, but Witchcraft never stopped growing. 2005's 'Firewood' and 2007's 'The Alchemist' introduced more progressive sounds, and five years later, the pointedly modern 'Legend' established in 2012 that they had moved beyond the analog worship they had been a part of pioneering within the contemporary heavy rock and doom scene. In 2016, the 2LP 'Nucleus' introduced fuller-toned doom, and 2020's 'Black Metal' diverged into moody acoustic minimalism familiar to some fans from Pelander's early solo work, but different from anything Witchcraft had done prior. 'IDAG,' then, is the tie that draws all of this - more than two decades of exploring and growth - together. Whatever they've done in the past and whatever they'll do in the future, 'IDAG' feels like a nexus for defining who and what Witchcraft are. Even crazier, that might be the point of the thing. JJ Koczan

Amuleto Apotropaico has a way to fend off demons by channeling a secular spiritualism rooted in a rigorous but playful connexion to the infinite possibilities of noise. The propulsion of their continuous music ebbs into and flows out of this primordial flux through their unique brand of brutalist liturgy.

Amuleto Apotropaico is a Portuguese duo consisting of António Feiteira (drums & electronics) and Francisco Pedro Oliveira (guitar, flute & electronics) formed in 2021. Having grown up together, saturated in the lore of their hometown of Santa Maria da Feira, the duo now resides in Porto and continues to moor their rhythmic rituals in the traditions of Northern Iberia.

None of this is a nostalgic look back to a time-that-never-was. Amuleto Apotropaico's cycles are ouroboric: every step forward invokes a simultaneous step backward such that their observance of sonic ceremony (seeming to invoke a now-forgotten tradition) becomes a constructivist gesture that shapes its own legacy. If time-travel exists, this duo has found out how.

For their self-titled first release (also the first release of the Perf label), António Feiteira has culled, recomposed and processed recordings from the band's last two years of concerts in order to create a exciting 4-tracker. Apotropia I & II, which open sides A and B on the vinyl release, are both textural meditations on subtle density. Feiteira's sensitive percussion flourishes are married to Oliveira's modular-enhanced flute and guitar patterns. Albedo e Rito showcases the duo's sense of melodic contour while crescendoing to a peak of lightness. Bruxa do Calhau Branco, lifts the whole journey into an astral dimension where multi-layered drums, synths and digital clicks breathe out, announcing that their moment of worship has settled back into the ubiquitous hubbub of room hum.

REPRESS of the highly acclaimed album. Black Metal is one hell of an album. It's a downbeat, dark folk album, that manages to capture the vibe of the band's earlier work quite well. Pelander has managed to make a "doom album" without actually making one in the traditional sense. Black Metal manages to capture the world weary, woeful, attitude and vibe of doom better than a ton of albums that crank up the Sabbath worship to ridiculous levels. It's a work of darkness and despair and therefore it is another captivating chapter of this band's discography. (New Noise Magazine)

Gold nugget vinyl, limited to 200 copies. Black Metal is one hell of an album. It's a downbeat, dark folk album, that manages to capture the vibe of the band's earlier work quite well. Pelander has managed to make a "doom album" without actually making one in the traditional sense. Black Metal manages to capture the world weary, woeful, attitude and vibe of doom better than a ton of albums that crank up the Sabbath worship to ridiculous levels. It's a work of darkness and despair and therefore it is another captivating chapter of this band's discography. (New Noise Magazine)

This was Don Thigpen's first recording as an artist, but he was no stranger to the studio. In fact he was the individual behind many heavy tunes that came out of the Jackson area. He and good friend Sam Anderson also cut a record on his CJR labelb (Capitol Jackson Records) called "Shirley Baby", also a highly coveted record if you got a copy to sell or record let us know). The name "LEO" became Dons preforming pseudonym. Leo was also his zodiac sign, which he deemed edgy enough to marquee this electro heavy track "Fee Fi Fo Fum". The inspiration for the song came from the computer craze of the 80s. Much like Zapp & Roger's track "Computer Love" an inanimate object is worshipped and then romanticized by a love affair. The song literally depicts a computer falling in love with a woman and attempts to communicate with her by seductively flashing the words "Fee Fi Fo Fum" on the screen.

Originally released on Ben Chasny's own Pavilion imprint in 2011.

"I was invited by the Incubate Festival and the city of Tilburg to participate in an artist residency where I would explore the region’s unique chapels built for the Virgin Mary. After writing the music for about six months by drawing on memories of the encounters with the chapels and using techniques inspired by Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics Of Reverie, I flew back to Tilburg to perform the music at the Incubate Festival. We recorded the evening and I released the result on my Pavilion label. Each cover was hand painted white on white in the old Pavilion style. I created a stencil and used graphite powder to make the design that is inspired by the sun imagery in Athanasius Kircher diagrams."

Roadside chapels express the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant, a Dutch province, bordering on Belgium. Roman Catholicism has been the dominant religion in this southern part of the Netherlands since the eighth century. For about a century and a half this religion was strongly suppressed. Only when the French revolutionaries preached freedom of belief around 1800 could the people of North Brabant exercise their faith again. This was the start of a very strong emancipatory development from which a special form of the Roman Catholic faith arose that fully determined everyday life of the people here. This faith was the determining factor in life and the measure of all things. After the second Vatican Council (1962-1965) the reins of the catholic faith in Brabant were loosened as well. This was the start of a revolutionary process of secularisation. Within a decade hardly anything was left of the almighty influence of the Roman Catholic Church and this situation has lasted up to the present day.

In spite of the almightiness of the official, Vatican ruled, Roman Catholic faith, North Brabant has always and perhaps notoriously fostered an undercurrent of popular belief as well. This is a kind of belief in which elements of the official faith and age-old pre-Christian traditions are combined. Worshipping relics, holding pilgrimages and processions, the use of water from holy wells, popular art, recitations and songs, festivals, rituals, folk traditions, superstition and the like are all examples of popular devotion. These matters have strongly influenced and formed the identity of the present-day population of North Brabant. It is part of their immaterial heritage.

An obvious and still very much visible form of popular devotion are the roadside chapels. In Brabant some 400 can be found, most of which have been devoted to Mary. Chapels are small buildings in which Mary or other saints are worshipped. They can be found within villages or towns or in natural surroundings. Always at the finest spots! The beauty of the environment adds a primary religious or mystical feeling to the visitor. Local people attach great value to their chapels. In spite of the overall secularisation in society they are still at the centre of cultural and social life. Where people in North Brabant can hardly be found in the churches nowadays, this doesn’t mean at all they are no longer religious. On the contrary, religious feelings are perhaps stronger than ever, but now people have to find their own expression of them. That’s why they fall back on the age-old popular belief in which chapels play an important role. We can even witness new forms of popular belief with chapels as their focal point. An example of this is the scattering of ashes of people who have been cremated. Chapels clearly also play a role in the lives of young people. On an average five new chapels are added every year.

I have studied the popular culture and belief and the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant for over thirty years. I have published over forty books on these subjects. In 2010 I was approached by the organisation of the Incubate Festival in the North Brabant town of Tilburg. Their request was for me to lead the American composer and guitarist Ben Chasny around a number of chapels in the province devoted to Mary. He had been invited to North Brabant to write some new compositions. Ben Chasny then chose to be inspired by these chapels and that’s how we met. I was especially curious how an American would react to something as specific and small as a roadside chapel in North Brabant, since we tend to think here of (people in) America in terms of ‘big-bigger-biggest’. Would an inhabitant of this enormous country with this prevailing culture be able to grasp and respect the identity of some 2.5 million people in North Brabant with their chapels? The answer to this question lies hidden in the compositions he made and that can be listened to on this album. Yes, Ben Chasny has been able to convert the phenomenon of a simple chapel devoted to Mary into music. The physical and the spiritual have found each other. What a beautiful world…just listen! - Paul Spapens

On ‘Animal’, Ash Fure appeals to “animal intelligence” by using sounds that are inherently physical and driven by perception, athleticism and interaction. Placing polycarbonate sheeting over an inverted subwoofer she built alongside her partner Xavi Aguirre and brother Adam, Fure isolates the physical impact of sound by focusing on psychoacoustic sub-bass pulses, semi-perceptible micro-rhythms and discomfiting white noise bursts, linking the process to her experiences in Berlin and Detroit’s techno dungeons where the sound has to adapt to the space it’s performed in. When she performed ‘Animal’ for the first time, Fure fabricated a “listening gym”, allowing the audience to interact in real-time by circuit training in response to the sound. The sweat is almost audible across the record, a run-on selection of rhythms, resonances and abstractions that sound like interlocking heartbeats on a series of treadmills. Her fascination with techno’s cavernous cathedrals is clear from the beginning, but Fure doesn’t worship at the altar: we’re hit with the feeling, not the aesthetic. The beats themselves, made from unstable vibrations and waterlogged, reverberating clicks, echo the brain’s unconscious reaction to repetition in a vast concrete box, the feeling you get when each percussive snag ricochets from every surface in the building. Coddling these whirring, criss-crossing polyrhythms with harsh, distorted low-end retches, Fure accurately recreates the energy and fatigue of the endless weekend sesh. We never once encounter techno in its expected shell, just its residue - the outline of humans figuring out their relationship with technology, architecture and each other. Fure’s use of dynamics is also deviously smart, marking out an overall rhythm that’s not tied to the strength of the sounds themselves, but just volume and physical impact. Often her most brutal sounds - ear-splitting squeals and overdriven mechanical whirrs - are reduced to an almost inaudible level, a bit like the bandy legged trip to the bathroom, or the escape to some dimly lit nook, the part of the night where you can still detect the sound on your skin without being battered by it. When the undulating rhythm returns in earnest, Fure masks acidic sequences in jet engine expulsions, still refusing to objectify anything that an AI model might be able to pick up on.

Basing himself off the works of Cuban guitarist-composers José Angel Navarro and Hector Angulo, Italian guitarist Walter Zanetti intimately recreates sacred Afro-Cuban batá drum songs on guitar. Santería draws heavily on music for its ceremonies. This Afro-Cuban syncretic religion, sometimes called La Regla de Ocha, saw the Orisha deities of the West African Yoruba peoples codified with Catholic saints. Yoruba practitioners, brought by force to the West, continued to worship their gods under the nose of those who sought to dehumanize them by adopting their spiritual language. The chants that became Santería’s prayers were often accompanied by the beat of the batá drum. This heartbeat runs through every invocation, through every sacred song. In the same way that the shuffling chains on the feet of enslaved African peoples dancing defiantly in Colombia birthed the distinctive rhythm of cumbia, syncretism has been present in music as much as it has in religion. It has always been about challenging the odds, about creation, creativity, and heart.

Phantasmagoria is a landmark release from Japan’s legendary noise collective C.C.C.C. Originally unleashed in the early '90s, this album represents the group’s masterful balance between overwhelming sonic force and hypnotic, psychedelic intensity.
Led by Hiroshi Hasegawa and fortified by the presence of Mayuko Hino, C.C.C.C. blended the raw power of Japanese harsh noise with elements of cosmic electronic music, creating a sound that resonates with the crushing density of Merzbow, the ecstatic distortion of Hijokaidan, and the hypnotic feedback worship of The New Blockaders. Phantasmagoria stands as a crucial document of noise music’s golden era, where extreme frequencies met transcendent states of mind.
This long-awaited reissue finally brings this essential work back to life—available now for the first time as an official release on limited edition vinyl and digital formats.

Kali Malone's The Sacrificial Code is the 2019 breakthrough album of the acclaimed composer's pipe organ pieces. Her temporally informed studies of harmonics and intonation breathed life into a suite of compositions which leaves the heart moved and mind still. This 2025 edition was mastered by Rashad Becker and features a new track Sacrificial Code III. Pitchfork praised the album for its "time-stretching properties" and "clean minimalism." Resident Advisor described the album as an "exercise in concentration, restraint, and focus." Tiny Mix Tapes emphasized the "intensity and intimacy" of the album, pointing out how Malone's close miking technique brings out every textural detail of the organ, creating a highly focused and immersive listening experience.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

repressed !

Setting out to make some 'happy music', Sophie Lloyd produced Calling Out' in a dreary January as an antidote to the pervading doom and gloom of the news, summoning the power of the most joy-filled sound of all, gospel. This no-holds-barred anthem radiates all the live atmosphere of gospel worship in mid flow, with full instrumentation, keyboard breaks and understated kick drum pulling it all together. Bringing in the uplifting voices of soul trio Dames Brown to re-record some old gospel samples was the icing on the cake, adding the last element of authenticity. A new member of the Classic family, Sophie Lloyd's impeccable knowledge of disco, soul and house shines through in this sparkling record, available on 7' for the very first time.

SCI+TEC celebrates a pivotal moment in its history with the release of I Feel Speed (2025 Remixes), a special project revisiting one of Dubfire’s earliest solo works and one of the label’s foundational releases. Originally released in 2007, Dubfire’s cover of Love and Rockets’ “I Feel Speed” marked a bold venture into uncharted territory, with the Grammy-winning artist taking on vocal duties himself to reimagine the iconic ballad.

In Dubfire’s own words, “Throughout my career, I’ve made no secret of my love—bordering on worship—for Love and Rockets (and, of course, Bauhaus). Tackling their soft ballad ‘I Feel Speed’ in 2007 was a daunting but transformative experience. Over the years, fans and colleagues have kept their love for that cover alive, which makes this new remix package even more meaningful.”

This release brings together a stellar list of artists, each offering a distinctive interpretation of the classic. Stephan Bodzin adds his signature emotive touch, while Yulia Niko dives deep into hypnotic textures. SNYL, whose admiration for the original track sparked the project, delivers a rework that strikes a balance between reverence and reinvention. Rafael Cerato and Laherte craft a dynamic reinterpretation, and indie dance pioneer Erol Alkan offers a genre-blurring remix full of energy and innovation.

I Feel Speed (2025 Remixes) is a testament to Dubfire’s enduring legacy, the timeless influence of Love and Rockets, and SCI+TEC’s continued role as a beacon of innovation in electronic music.

Magnolia Park doesn't do subtle Since 2018, the Orlando quintet has fused punk, rock, pop, hip-hop, and metalcore into a genre- smashing whirlwind that's as thrilling live as it is on record. With viral Halloween Mixtape, their breakout debut Baku's Revenge, and tours alongside Simple Plan and Sum 41, they've cemented their spot as a must- see act at festivals like Welcome To Rockville, When We Were Young , Reading and Leeds.

Magnolia Park, featuring vocalist Joshua Roberts, guitarists Tristan Torres and Freddie Criales, drummer Joe Horsham and bassist Vincent Ernst - are set to unleash their most ambitious effort yet: VAMP, a neo-gothic concept album diving deep into the dark, anime- inspired world of Nocturne Nexus. Think Star Wars meets Dracula, where rulers and rebels clash in a fght for the future.

Recorded with top-tier producers like Andrew Wade and Zakk Cervini, VAMP is a sonic juggernaut - industrial undertones, colossal breakdowns, and vocalist Joshua Roberts' electrifying delivery. Magnolia Park has gone bold, heavy, and unforgettable. This is the album that will leave fans craving more.

Unofficially the third entry in our Good God! series of ecstatic worship, Born Again Funk picks up where A Gospel Funk Hymnal leaves off. Yes, the prodigal sons of Thomas Dorsey arrived in there multitudes, only some of them toting fuzzboxes and Fender amps. These are the most devout songs, but done up amid the hot, sweaty, earthy moonshine rhythms downed by any blues singer thumbing his way up north from the Mississippi delta. Born Again Funk hones in on wholly modern vulgarity brought to a joyful strain of American composition, and performers unafraid of expressing their devotion with both inspiration and invention. They were acolytes faithful to a spirit, but never to an ordained sound.

Of all the nicknames given to Elvis, only one of them really seems to reflect his importance in the history of rock: they called him The King.

Together with Chuck Berry, Elvis represented the young generation that vibrated to the music with new rhythms that appeared in the Fifties: Rock’n’Roll. Presley’s personality, not to mention his voice, charm, and a whole series of chart hits, guaranteed Elvis a special place in the hearts of his fans; and not only in his own lifetime, because the same is true some fifty years later.

The thirty titles included in this album are a brilliant demonstration of Elvis’ talents, and the music alone is enough to explain the cult following of his fans, who will worship him forever.

Between records like Relentless and Show `Em How, Pentagram have never wanted for self-awareness in terms of album titles. The gauntlet thrown down by Lightning in a Bottle is very much in this tradition. The 10th Pentagram album sees founding frontman and doom figurehead Bobby Liebling leading a new cast of players that includes guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), drummer Henry Vasquez (Legions of Doom, Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun, etc.) and bassist Scooter Haslip (Mos Generator, Saltine). It would be hard to overstate the energy the new band brings to songs like "Live Again," "Solve the Puzzle" or "In the Panic Room," but Lightning in a Bottle is unmistakably a Pentagram record, of course in Liebling's unremittingly charismatic performance and the groove conjured to back it. Recorded with Reed at the helm, Lightning in a Bottle recalls the best of what has allowed Pentagram to cast an influence across decades and generations of musicians, bands, and worshippers of Riff, and as just their third studio release in the last 15 years, it's not a moment to neglect as they dig into a cut like "Dull Pain" or "Lady Heroin," the latter of which is a naked reconciliation on the part of Liebling with a lifelong addiction to opiates that's become an inextricable part of the Pentagram story. As he wonders in the lyrics, "Lady Heroin, have I seen the last of you?" it becomes difficult to know whether the separation would be through sobriety or death, and that ambiguity becomes part of what makes the song so striking.

Deluxe Edition, Double LP, Gatefold, alternative Cover. Comes with three bonus tracks. Between records like Relentless and Show `Em How, Pentagram have never wanted for self-awareness in terms of album titles. The gauntlet thrown down by Lightning in a Bottle is very much in this tradition. The 10th Pentagram album sees founding frontman and doom figurehead Bobby Liebling leading a new cast of players that includes guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), drummer Henry Vasquez (Legions of Doom, Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun, etc.) and bassist Scooter Haslip (Mos Generator, Saltine). It would be hard to overstate the energy the new band brings to songs like "Live Again," "Solve the Puzzle" or "In the Panic Room," but Lightning in a Bottle is unmistakably a Pentagram record, of course in Liebling's unremittingly charismatic performance and the groove conjured to back it. Recorded with Reed at the helm, Lightning in a Bottle recalls the best of what has allowed Pentagram to cast an influence across decades and generations of musicians, bands, and worshippers of Riff, and as just their third studio release in the last 15 years, it's not a moment to neglect as they dig into a cut like "Dull Pain" or "Lady Heroin," the latter of which is a naked reconciliation on the part of Liebling with a lifelong addiction to opiates that's become an inextricable part of the Pentagram story. As he wonders in the lyrics, "Lady Heroin, have I seen the last of you?" it becomes difficult to know whether the separation would be through sobriety or death, and that ambiguity becomes part of what makes the song so striking.

Aqua Blue Vinyl, limited to 500 copies. Between records like Relentless and Show `Em How, Pentagram have never wanted for self-awareness in terms of album titles. The gauntlet thrown down by Lightning in a Bottle is very much in this tradition. The 10th Pentagram album sees founding frontman and doom figurehead Bobby Liebling leading a new cast of players that includes guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), drummer Henry Vasquez (Legions of Doom, Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun, etc.) and bassist Scooter Haslip (Mos Generator, Saltine). It would be hard to overstate the energy the new band brings to songs like "Live Again," "Solve the Puzzle" or "In the Panic Room," but Lightning in a Bottle is unmistakably a Pentagram record, of course in Liebling's unremittingly charismatic performance and the groove conjured to back it. Recorded with Reed at the helm, Lightning in a Bottle recalls the best of what has allowed Pentagram to cast an influence across decades and generations of musicians, bands, and worshippers of Riff, and as just their third studio release in the last 15 years, it's not a moment to neglect as they dig into a cut like "Dull Pain" or "Lady Heroin," the latter of which is a naked reconciliation on the part of Liebling with a lifelong addiction to opiates that's become an inextricable part of the Pentagram story. As he wonders in the lyrics, "Lady Heroin, have I seen the last of you?" it becomes difficult to know whether the separation would be through sobriety or death, and that ambiguity becomes part of what makes the song so striking.

Deep purple vinyl, limited to 500 copies. Between records like Relentless and Show `Em How, Pentagram have never wanted for self-awareness in terms of album titles. The gauntlet thrown down by Lightning in a Bottle is very much in this tradition. The 10th Pentagram album sees founding frontman and doom figurehead Bobby Liebling leading a new cast of players that includes guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), drummer Henry Vasquez (Legions of Doom, Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun, etc.) and bassist Scooter Haslip (Mos Generator, Saltine). It would be hard to overstate the energy the new band brings to songs like "Live Again," "Solve the Puzzle" or "In the Panic Room," but Lightning in a Bottle is unmistakably a Pentagram record, of course in Liebling's unremittingly charismatic performance and the groove conjured to back it. Recorded with Reed at the helm, Lightning in a Bottle recalls the best of what has allowed Pentagram to cast an influence across decades and generations of musicians, bands, and worshippers of Riff, and as just their third studio release in the last 15 years, it's not a moment to neglect as they dig into a cut like "Dull Pain" or "Lady Heroin," the latter of which is a naked reconciliation on the part of Liebling with a lifelong addiction to opiates that's become an inextricable part of the Pentagram story. As he wonders in the lyrics, "Lady Heroin, have I seen the last of you?" it becomes difficult to know whether the separation would be through sobriety or death, and that ambiguity becomes part of what makes the song so striking.

Deluxe Edition, 2LP, Gatefold, alternative Cover. Plus three bonus tracks. Between records like Relentless and Show `Em How, Pentagram have never wanted for self-awareness in terms of album titles. The gauntlet thrown down by Lightning in a Bottle is very much in this tradition. The 10th Pentagram album sees founding frontman and doom figurehead Bobby Liebling leading a new cast of players that includes guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), drummer Henry Vasquez (Legions of Doom, Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun, etc.) and bassist Scooter Haslip (Mos Generator, Saltine). It would be hard to overstate the energy the new band brings to songs like "Live Again," "Solve the Puzzle" or "In the Panic Room," but Lightning in a Bottle is unmistakably a Pentagram record, of course in Liebling's unremittingly charismatic performance and the groove conjured to back it. Recorded with Reed at the helm, Lightning in a Bottle recalls the best of what has allowed Pentagram to cast an influence across decades and generations of musicians, bands, and worshippers of Riff, and as just their third studio release in the last 15 years, it's not a moment to neglect as they dig into a cut like "Dull Pain" or "Lady Heroin," the latter of which is a naked reconciliation on the part of Liebling with a lifelong addiction to opiates that's become an inextricable part of the Pentagram story. As he wonders in the lyrics, "Lady Heroin, have I seen the last of you?" it becomes difficult to know whether the separation would be through sobriety or death, and that ambiguity becomes part of what makes the song so striking.

Color-In-Color Transp. Yellow / Pink Neon Splatter Black Vinyl Limited to 150 copies. Between records like Relentless and Show `Em How, Pentagram have never wanted for self-awareness in terms of album titles. The gauntlet thrown down by Lightning in a Bottle is very much in this tradition. The 10th Pentagram album sees founding frontman and doom figurehead Bobby Liebling leading a new cast of players that includes guitarist/producer Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, etc.), drummer Henry Vasquez (Legions of Doom, Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun, etc.) and bassist Scooter Haslip (Mos Generator, Saltine). It would be hard to overstate the energy the new band brings to songs like "Live Again," "Solve the Puzzle" or "In the Panic Room," but Lightning in a Bottle is unmistakably a Pentagram record, of course in Liebling's unremittingly charismatic performance and the groove conjured to back it. Recorded with Reed at the helm, Lightning in a Bottle recalls the best of what has allowed Pentagram to cast an influence across decades and generations of musicians, bands, and worshippers of Riff, and as just their third studio release in the last 15 years, it's not a moment to neglect as they dig into a cut like "Dull Pain" or "Lady Heroin," the latter of which is a naked reconciliation on the part of Liebling with a lifelong addiction to opiates that's become an inextricable part of the Pentagram story. As he wonders in the lyrics, "Lady Heroin, have I seen the last of you?" it becomes difficult to know whether the separation would be through sobriety or death, and that ambiguity becomes part of what makes the song so striking.

Louisville, Kentucky-based musician and artist Evan Patterson never planned for JAYE JAYLE to blossom from a stripped-down solo project into the otherworldly, full-band sonic experience that it is today. In the beginning, the songs were short and lighthearted, written on acoustic guitar with no intention of releasing them or even performing them publicly. Time, however, is a fickle thing. `After Alter' is an astounding collection of musical memories and emotional fragments, all drawn together from previous recording sessions and previous lives in order to chart a cathartic creative course into new, unknown territories. At once volatile, gut wrenching and serene; expect the unexpected. Raw remnants and lingering refrains from these pivotal moments are reframed to form a powerful reminder of what Jaye Jayle is and always has been: an unadulterated, unfiltered outlet for the sounds that pour out of Patterson's mind at any given time or place. `After Alter' is a document of the indecipherable, of feeting feelings dragged once again to the surface. Lead single and opening track `Father Fiction', for example, dives headlong into the fables and factious ideologies of organised religion with a hardened gaze and a wry smile as rolling drums and repetitive discordant guitar refrains spiral ever down into the labyrinth of meaning and misinterpretation. Elsewhere, `Fear Is Here' sees Jaye Jayle facing up to day-to-day examples of how terrifying everything around us can become within an instant as the song's truncated blues piano hook is pushed ever further, distorted over time into something strange and hideous whilst the crawling post-hardcore dirge of `A Blackout' serves as a searing critique of the American Dream; a nameless, homeless protagonist worships the alluring glow of billboard ads from their bed in the dirt on the side of the highway. Simultaneously both tracks five and eight though, the arresting `Bloody Me' is Jaye Jayle's dichotic, janiform identity made manifest. Written even before the band's debut album was released, track five's `Bloody Me' is a bolshy, bass-driven punk rock retaliation to dressing up for Halloween because Patterson is always dressed for Halloween. Track eight's `Bloody Me' however, is a tender solo acoustic recording cut straight to wax at Third Man Records in Nashville, mere hours before Patterson saw Bob Dylan perform for the first time. Two sides of the same coin; one ferocious and snarling, the other plaintive and bare but both unapologetically Jaye Jayle. By creatively exorcising these poignant moments, Jaye Jayle have opened themselves to even more inspiration. FOR FANS OF Leonard Cohen fronting Spiritualized, Spacemen 3, JJ Cale, Lungfish, Angels of Light, Young Widows The very limited Help Edition is single colour purple vinyl!

Written in the Winter of 2021 through email collaborations, the songs were constructed and recorded in DeeDee's bedroom and brought to life with Dom's crunchy drums, mixing, and production from his Nashville home studio.
D E A T H B A G' S music bridges fuzzed out garage rock through a post-punk lens while presenting images of cult worship, societal collapse, and the looming impermanence of existence. Within the grooves a new cult emerges

The Dub Pistols reissue journey continues and some could argue we’ve saved the best for last. Originally released on CD in 2012, the tour-de-force of ‘Worshipping The Dollar’ is finally receiving the vinyl treatment it deserves.

Including festival big hitters such as Mucky Weekend, Alive and Bad Card, this outstanding LP is being pressed on stunning blue and white splatter vinyl and it sounds better than ever. With its hard-hitting beats, infectious melodies, and socially conscious lyrics, 'Worshipping The Dollar' still acts as a commentary on the current state of our world and the detrimental effects of greed. The album features collaborations with legendary artists such as Rodney P, Red Star Lion, and Lindy Layton, adding an extra layer of depth to an already dynamic sound.

From their early beginnings as a soundsystem project, Dub Pistols have grown into a party-rocking live band that ignites festivals and venues. Main man Barry Ashworth has even gone a step further by developing his own hugely successful ‘Mucky Weekender’ festival named after Worshipping The Dollar’s lead single. Mucky by name, Mucky by nature - the festival certainly isn’t for the light hearted!

‘Worshipping The Dollar’ serves as a testament to Dub Pistols’ enduring spirit and tenacity and you can now pre order the album on how it was originally meant to be listened – on glorious vinyl.

a Alive feat. Red Star Lion 04:42
b West End Story feat. Akala 03:42
c Mucky Weekend feat. Rodders 05:08
d Bang Bang feat. Ashley Slater [03:33]
[e] Rubadub feat. Lindy & Dan Bushall [05:00]
[f] New Skank feat. T.K. [04:18]
[g] Rocksteady feat. Rodney P & LIndy [04:20]
[h] Countermeasure feat. T.K. [04:40]
[i] Gunshot feat. Darrison & Rodders [05:42]
[j] Bad Card feat. Dan Boskills [05:22]
[04:16]

Die legendäre, 2003 im schwedischen Borlänge gegründete Metal-Band meldet sich fünf Jahre nach ihrem Chart-Erfolg "Worship Or Die" mit einem brandneuen Studioalbum zurück.
Die Band entschied sich, das Album "The End Of It All" zu nennen, als Reflexion darüber, wie es in der Welt heute aussieht und auch, um irgendwie zu sagen, dass dies vielleicht das letzte Album in der Karriere der ASTRAL DOORS sein könnte.
Nils Patrik Johanssons Texte und Gesangsmelodien sind über jeden Zweifel erhaben, so wie es bei den ASTRAL DOORS schon immer der Fall war. Darüber hinaus beweisen die beiden Songwriter Johan Lindstedt und Joachim Nordlund einmal mehr, dass sie genau das richtige Gespür dafür haben, wie eingängiger Heavy Metal heutzutage zu klingen hat.

Infinite Fog are delighted to present another piece of the intriguing COIL puzzle. In the mid 1990s the core team of John Balance and Peter Christopherson were continuing their exploration of the outer reaches of electronic sound production as exemplified by the "Born Again Pagans" release, originally an EP only, featuring both the hugely danceable "Protection" smash which had Danny Hyde's influence writ in large letters all over it, as well as the first outings of their intriguing more ambient/glitch-based ElpH material, probably their most haunting and haunted works. This new 3LP anthology re-edition collects all of the ElpH material which didn't appear on their later "Worship the Glitch" album, namely the pHILM #1 10", a host of very rare compilation tracks as well as a number of at the time unreleased pieces in the same vein. The stunningly presented release also features the ElpH entity's last ever appearance originally available as part of raster noton's award winning 20' to 2000 series of releases, the "Zwölf" EP.

All the material has been lovingly remastered by Jessica Thompson with re-imagined design-work by Oleg Galay and including a replica of the original St. Sebastian on acid poster.

February 2014 saw the band release their 'Back To Bagarmossen' EP on London/Stockholm indie label PNKSLM Recordings. The 10' vinyl received huge praise both internationally and at home, even picking up mainstream TV coverage on Sweden's TV4. Following the EP, Les Big Byrd are now preparing to unleash their debut full length release, 'They Worshipped Cats', on Anton Newcombe's A Records ,Anton has co written & plays 2 tracks on the album . They are supporting the Brian Jonestown Massacre on their European tour . When Anton recently visited Stockholm with his band The Brian Jonestown Massacre, the guys accidentally ran into each other at a local record shop, and started talking about music. Anton invited the band down to his studio in Berlin to record and jam for a few days and it was there that a big part of "They Worshipped Cats" was conceived and recorded. Les Big Byrd was formed in Stockholm by Joakim Åhlund and Frans Johansson a couple of years ago. They each eventually joined different rock bands that brought them out of Sweden and into a different world. Frans' band Fireside, got signed by Rick Rubin to his label Def American and Jocke had a taste of international success with 60's-influenced garage-pop outfit Caesars, as well as his other, more electronically flavored project Teddybears. They decided that they still - in spite of everything - had their love for music intact, and the dream in common to get the perfect band together and give it one more shot. They recruited Jocke's former bandmate, drummer Nino Keller and keyboardist Konie and started jamming and rehearsing. Joakim had been running a recording studio in Stockholm, writing and producing for Swedish and international artists, including Robyn and Håkan Hellström, and had also directed music videos for prominent Swedish exports such as Bob Hund, Refused, Broder Daniel and The International Noise Conspiracy. Keyboardist Konie also runs a studio in Stockholm, where he's been recording a number of film scores as well as many of Swedens most interesting black metal acts.

February 2014 saw the band release their 'Back To Bagarmossen' EP on London/Stockholm indie label PNKSLM Recordings. The 10' vinyl received huge praise both internationally and at home, even picking up mainstream TV coverage on Sweden's TV4. Following the EP, Les Big Byrd are now preparing to unleash their debut full length release, 'They Worshipped Cats', on Anton Newcombe's A Records ,Anton has co written & plays 2 tracks on the album . They are supporting the Brian Jonestown Massacre on their European tour . When Anton recently visited Stockholm with his band The Brian Jonestown Massacre, the guys accidentally ran into each other at a local record shop, and started talking about music. Anton invited the band down to his studio in Berlin to record and jam for a few days and it was there that a big part of "They Worshipped Cats" was conceived and recorded. Les Big Byrd was formed in Stockholm by Joakim Åhlund and Frans Johansson a couple of years ago. They each eventually joined different rock bands that brought them out of Sweden and into a different world. Frans' band Fireside, got signed by Rick Rubin to his label Def American and Jocke had a taste of international success with 60's-influenced garage-pop outfit Caesars, as well as his other, more electronically flavored project Teddybears. They decided that they still - in spite of everything - had their love for music intact, and the dream in common to get the perfect band together and give it one more shot. They recruited Jocke's former bandmate, drummer Nino Keller and keyboardist Konie and started jamming and rehearsing. Joakim had been running a recording studio in Stockholm, writing and producing for Swedish and international artists, including Robyn and Håkan Hellström, and had also directed music videos for prominent Swedish exports such as Bob Hund, Refused, Broder Daniel and The International Noise Conspiracy. Keyboardist Konie also runs a studio in Stockholm, where he's been recording a number of film scores as well as many of Swedens most interesting black metal acts.

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

Burial are a no-nonsense black metal trio from the bleak industrial landscapes of Manchester, UK, dedicating our sound to the trvest Satanic, ice-cold, blasphemous and goat worshiping origins of the genre. Our songs are punchy and immediate, with a healthy dose of icy atmospheric riffs, recalling the legends Darkthrone and Immortal. We also show an underlying British charm, dark and absurd sense of humour, channeling a slight crust punk attitude akin to Discharge. Vocalist Derek Carley comments: "We're proud to release our foreboding new album Rejoice In Sin. Expect sinister black 'n' roll riffs; with all the carnage, bleakness and epic sorrow that Burial manifests."

Opeth are one of the biggest acts in the Prog Metal genre with numerous top 10 albums worldwide, ”The Last Will and Testament” is their new album set for release November 22. Guest vocals by Joey Tempest (Europe), and guest flute by Ian Anderson (Jethro Tull). “A restless musical journey in a way mirroring my own relationship with music as a consumer of it," narrates band leader Mikael Åkerfeldt. "I pick up something here, dismiss something there. I worship and I hate music at the same time. This ambivalence leads me down some type of creative path of my own and then, all of a sudden, a collection of songs has been written. Best case scenario, these songs are good enough to impress the band. Good enough for the ”powers that be” in terms of the industry. Good enough for ”you”?! I love this record. I have to say it (write it). Maybe I’m proud even? There are some familiar ingredients in there I suppose. Most of our music has sprung from the same source, so I guess it’s not much of a shocker if it’s going to sound like ”us”. I’m a bit in awe of what we did with ”The Last Will and Testament”. It feels like a dream. There is some ”coherence" and ” songwriting skills” I hope, but what do I know? I tend to favour the ”strange” over the ”obvious”, but I feel like I’m in the minority, and that’s fine. So…fair warning! Don’t expect an instant rush (as per usual), but if you do ”get it” (have you got it yet?) right away, that’s ok too!"

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary