4 Alpha Opposites
Russia is cold, dreary, almost inhuman, one has to comes to terms with this harsh place. A Bleak Reality comes from there, he found his own answers and reasons facing all adversities and miseries of life. Lux Rec collected these and made a record out of them. MRT007 is an inventory of ways to fall. Lower than low.
Arriving two years after the first chapter, Absurd Matter 2 isn’t just a sequel, it’s an evolution, redrawing the boundaries established by its acclaimed predecessor. The Berlin-based Italian producer tempers his confrontational sonics with rare moments of introspection, shifting seamlessly between blown-out noise, warped hip-hop, mutant club experimentation, and weightless ambience. Textures disintegrate and reassemble, rhythms flex and crumble, and every detail balances on the edge of fantasy. It’s a poetic, layered response to Nino Pedone’s changing physical reality: the gradual hearing loss and perceptual renegotiation triggered by Ménière’s disease, which struck him in 2022. At first, the experience felt like betrayal, a brutal disconnection from the very sense that had shaped his life. But over time, the disorientation turned into a strange kind of focus. The silence between sounds became as expressive as the sounds themselves.
The first Absurd Matter was a visceral reaction to trauma; the second is more reflective – an ambiguous chronicle of sensory recalibration. Pedone doesn’t represent his altered inner reality through extremes, but through depth, zooming in on illusory distortions, tense rhythmic fluctuations, and fragmented sonics. Dense, immersive, and mystical, the album mirrors Pedone’s evolving relationship with perception itself.
Tinnitus-like feedback wails and noir-ish strings introduce “Repeater”, making it immediately clear that Pedone is painting a more delicately finessed image this time around. Fleshed out by raps from cult MCs billy woods and E L U C I D, the track is marked by subtle, sophisticated contrasts: the blurred, inverted rhythms that couch Armand Hammer’s haunted back-and-forth, and the glitchy interference that offsets the lavish orchestral phrases. Backwoodz associate Fatboi Sharif lends his Lynchian drawl to “Bandage Chipped Wings”, grounding Pedone’s lysergic rhythmic distortions with syrupy, horror-inspired couplets. Pedone also invites discomfort into “Crash Landing”, with droning, metallic tones that contradict South Central rapper ICECOLDBISHOP’s elastic flow. “Bitch, I don't give a fuck about anybody,” he squawks over Pedone’s incongruous rasping textures and time-warped beats, “cash out at any party.” Working alongside London’s Loraine James on production, Pedone reunites with Moor Mother on “I Saw The Light”, blending James’ soft-focus atmospherics with soundsystem-damaging, overdriven bass hits and rusted percussive snips. Moor Mother’s assertive words hover over the wreckage, tightening Pedone’s themes of overstimulation and altered awareness as they stutter and veer off course, vanishing into the backdrop.
Contrasting his more pensive experiments, Pedone’s dancefloor deviations are more concentrated on Absurd Matter 2 than ever before. He torches a stuttering dembow structure on “X”, obfuscating the rhythm’s familiar energy with disturbing audio hallucinations. On “Splintered”, he reunites with Kenyan prodigy Slikback, mangling neon-lit trance arpeggios with dissociated trap rhythms. He sharpens his skills to a fine point on “Oblivion Step”, observing 2- step through a lens of distortion and personal abstraction, shaking blipping synth leads over neck-snapping drums and counteracting the momentum with airless sci-fi soundscapes.
Perhaps the album’s most surprising moment arrives with “Viel”, which features vocals from Los Angeles-based composer Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. Together, Pedone and Smith chance upon their notion of dub techno, fogging synth stabs and ghostly vocal traces into eerie harmonic distortions. On some level, it’s almost pop music, a far cry from the bleak dissonance of Absurd Matter and a hopeful way to reframe turbulence as transformation. Absurd Matter 2 doesn’t simply document a process; it enacts one. It doesn’t offer clarity; it invites disorientation. It’s not a map of the labyrinth, but a foghorn piercing the darkness.
Black Vinyl[35,08 €]
We’re teaming up with ELUCID and Fat Possum for a limited edition of 300 copies of a Rush Hour black ice coloured edition.
E L U C I D, one half of the illustrious duo Armand Hammer, is here with the full-length follow-up to 'I Told Bessie'. Further experiments in the sonic, expanding on the 'live' side of music paired with the embracing of chaos. Something you haven't heard, or not so for a very long time. E L U C I D is here to reveal the bleakness of reality.
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''There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.''
James Baldwin
A raw, crackling urgency runs through rapper-producer ELUCID’s new album REVELATOR like an underground power line. There is no space here for sepia-toned reminiscences or indulgent self-mythologizing. Intellectual rabbit holes have been filled in with concrete and rebar ; there is nowhere to hide and no off ramp from the audio Autobahn that ELUCID has fashioned—a renegade Robert Moses with gold fronts, bulldozing the homes of the powerful and the complicit. REVELATOR brims with the energy of now, with a refusal to look away. Carpe diem in a murder one mask.
Born in Jamaica, Queens, ELUCID has been on the cutting edge of New York’s underground scene since the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he has defied both convention and expectation. He ran with Okayplayer darlings Tanya Morgan, but his own music eschewed their throwback charm for glitchy noise experiments and bass-swamped culture jamming. His 2016 debut studio project Save Yourself (re-released in a deluxe edition last year) announced him in earnest. But in recent years, his Armand Hammer releases with partner-in-crime billy woods have received significant attention and acclaim. Serving as a followup to his last solo album—2022’s comparatively balmy I Told Bessie—ELUCID hoped to “re-distinguish” himself with REVELATOR, setting himself apart amidst the increasing attention around the music he and his friends are making together.
For ELUCID, this meant setting bold new challenges for himself. One of these was diving further into live instrumentation than ever before—”getting my Quincy Jones on,” as he puts it. The testing ground for this approach was Armand Hammer’s most recent project, 2023’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips’ Möbius strip soundscapes, warmed with instrumental flourishes and skin-shedding beat progressions. With REVELATOR, though, ELUCID strove to create an atmosphere of chaos, embracing experimental electronics and atonal sample bursts. He worked on much of the album with co-producer Jon Nellen, who comes from a background in avant-garde and Indian classical music. “I wanted to get as freaky as I could at this moment. I wanted people to hear things, maybe for the first time, or in a way they haven’t for a long while,” the rapper explains.
ELUCID arrived at the studio with a collection of noise sources: non-referential samples, glitches and noises. Together he, Nellen, and others created forms out of them and, as ELUCID recalls, “just started playing drums with it.” Their fried, distorted sound was directly inspired by Miles Davis at his most uncompromising—specifically, the tone-clustering funk track “Rated X” from his 1974 double LP Get Up With It. At times, the pairing of rap with avant-fusion sounds also brings Emergency! from The Tony Williams Lifetime to mind, perhaps in an alternate timeline where the late drummer was listening to Ice Cube’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted.
“The World is Dog,” REVELATOR’s lead single, functions as the album’s aesthetic thesis statement. Like the Davis track, the textures are punishing, the tonality is in free-fall, and the driving breakbeat of a groove cuts in and out unceremoniously. Avant-jazz bassist Luke Stewart, who appears throughout the record, holds the whole thing together just long enough for ELUCID to tightwalk over the beat. This tension is exactly where REVELATOR sets itself apart; in a time of drumless loops, and safe soul samples, this is a high-wire act with no safety net. Similarly, the song announces the themes of the album within just a few phrases, evoking the way societies accept and adjust to new levels of debasement and brutality while suffocating under the weight of history: “Can’t clock the kill, all a mystery/Forced past will eating everyone eventually/The world is dog.”
Many of the songs on REVELATOR grapple obliquely with dissolution and disenfranchisement in America and across the world—the grim realities of our domestic sociopolitical climate and our involvement in foreign conflicts. “Much of my artistic and political sensibility comes from the Black arts movement here in New York,” ELUCID explains. “Recognizing the interconnected global struggles against oppression, artists and thinkers created works and actions in solidarity with freedom movements in South Africa and Palestine.” ELUCID cites intellectuals like Amiri Baraka, Kwame Nkrumah, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, and Nikki Giovanni among his heroes. (One track on the album is specifically inspired by Lorde’s work, “SKP,” citing the scholar’s paper “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic As Power.”) Songs like REVELATOR’s insistent closer “ZIGZAGZIG,” find ELUCID applying up-to-the-minute messaging, making explicit reference to the conflict in Gaza: “Feed a war machine…from river to sea, in lieu of peace.”
Despite ELUCID’s preference for cacophonous system overload here, the rapper also provides moments of respite. Recorded at The Alchemist’s Los Angeles studio, the laid-back, wheezing “INSTANT TRANSFER” is a collaboration with billy woods, which crystallizes their shared sense of creative determination. “With much momentum behind us and even more on the horizon, I knew a purpose, and that every step was ordered to that purpose,” ELUCID said of the experience. Meanwhile, the jittery “HUSHPUPPIES” is a playful anomaly on the track list, providing a snapshot of ELUCID watching his grandparents in the kitchen while preparing for Friday night fish fry dinners.
“Love still rules over on this side,” ELUCID says. ”I’m raising a family. We are making meaning and finding joy in the midst of all the fucked up-ness of everything around us because the alternative is cowardice and slow death. We remain rooted. We celebrate our people and our wins. Struggle is necessary.”
“IKEBANA” is one of ELUCID’s strongest statements of purpose on the record, blending the record’s heaviest themes with its most hopeful sentiments. supported by a shoutalong refrain and an urgent prog-funk groove. Breaking away from images of dissolution and crumbling societal systems that populate REVELATOR, ELUCID notes that the only way to navigate life’s bleakest landscapes is to cling to love and believe in those around you—to look forward toward something better that may or may not be possible. For the rapper, one of the album’s most trenchant lines comes during a centerpiece of a beat drop: “Being alive/I must look up.”
“The lyric ‘being alive I must look up’ is important especially in the context of this album. Much of the album imagery is harsh and reflects the actual doom some of us experience. But still I/we exist,” ELUCID explains.
Every artist is, in one way or another, the product of their time, bound by life’s leaden gravity to operate within the space of that which is already known. But there are some who are able to shake free of these ties, to shape the culture as it unfolds, to make the present their own.
Revelation, as a concept, points to the scales falling from people’s eyes—something that has been hiding in plain sight becoming clear. “The revelator relates to things that have been talked about, things that have been forecasted,” ELUCID adds. “And now they’re really here, and everyone sees it. And there’s no escaping.” REVELATOR plays out with the unmitigated power of those storms, laying waste to any genre conventions in pursuit of a certain physicality. Here, ELUCID develops a wholly distinctive musical language to explore our fractured modernity.
REVELATOR's packaging was designed by longtime Armand Hammer / Backwoodz art director, Alexander Richter.
Reality is overwhelming. The future remains a big question mark while the present seems to be increasingly crude, twisted and bleak. Inevitably witnessing and feeding off this malaise, Bruno presents "Quemando Iglesias," an EP born in the vertiginous years of 2020 and 2021. It will be the first of many manifestos that Desencanto will have to deal with the disillusions of today's world: political, social, economic and also those left by old loves.
"Since their formation in the latter half of 2023, Berlin’s Industry have quickly emerged into the foreground as one of the more exciting groups of the European DIY punk scene. Having released their 2024 debut LP, touring and playing festivals all over the continent, they are now back with a follow up record that’s every bit as bruising and bleak as the first.
Much has been made of how ‘on point’ Industry sound - a mid-paced cocktail of heavy toms and churning riffs recalling ‘No Sanctuary’ era Amebix or classic Killing Joke. But Industry use these sounds as a springboard rather than a template, utilising the form for genuine expression where others are tempted by retro cosplay. Their sound is pared back, pulsing, relentless but danceable. But it’s the words that result in a listen that’s engaging from start to finish, an album that’s both expressive and polemic. Just as people often describe Discharge’s lyrics as Haiku, Industry uses the band’s repetitive grooves as a wide-open canvas on which their exasperated observations are given space to land with precision. The litany of criticisms are familiar to us all - violence exacted on the poor and vulnerable by those in power, the ongoing industrialised slaughter of humans and animals, the disastrous consequences of colonialism, the list goes on… The world in 2025 is fucked, and even though they say they ‘can’t even look’, this band has got their eyes wide open."
Gold Vinyl[23,49 €]
Santa Somnia is an imaginary saint, shaped like a medieval folktale figure, who steals the sleep and childhood creativity of his victims to feed a kingdom of oblivion and torment. The album's lyrics follow the journey of a protagonist stripped of rest and innocence, wandering through a decaying dreamworld reminiscent of Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and Elden Ring. Santa Somnia becomes an allegory of lost hope and the crushing weight of adulthood, drawing further thematic influence from the bleak darkness of Kentaro Miura's Berserk. Santa Somnia is a sonic trip through a crumbling psyche-- drenched in despair and shadows-- ruled by the struggle against madness brought on by sleeplessness, the inner torment of depression, and the inevitable, sometimes merciful, pull of death.
The influence of FromSoftware and Berserk emerges through the album's cryptic, oppressive storytelling, where the line between nightmare and reality barely exists. While rooted in the band's earlier works, the sound of Santa Somnia blends the crushing weight of doom metal with classic and thrash metal elements and injections of punk- rock melody, mirroring the emotional instability and mental agony woven throughout the lyrics.
Santa Somnia is an imaginary saint, shaped like a medieval folktale figure, who steals the sleep and childhood creativity of his victims to feed a kingdom of oblivion and torment. The album's lyrics follow the journey of a protagonist stripped of rest and innocence, wandering through a decaying dreamworld reminiscent of Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and Elden Ring. Santa Somnia becomes an allegory of lost hope and the crushing weight of adulthood, drawing further thematic influence from the bleak darkness of Kentaro Miura's Berserk. Santa Somnia is a sonic trip through a crumbling psyche-- drenched in despair and shadows-- ruled by the struggle against madness brought on by sleeplessness, the inner torment of depression, and the inevitable, sometimes merciful, pull of death.
The influence of FromSoftware and Berserk emerges through the album's cryptic, oppressive storytelling, where the line between nightmare and reality barely exists. While rooted in the band's earlier works, the sound of Santa Somnia blends the crushing weight of doom metal with classic and thrash metal elements and injections of punk- rock melody, mirroring the emotional instability and mental agony woven throughout the lyrics.
"Raise your swords up high: BLOODBOUND march into a powerful future with Field Of Swords, out November 21st via Napalm Records. Twenty years after the release of their debut album, the Swedish warriors stand taller than ever on the front line of epic power metal, delivering their most modern work yet. Most recently drawn to the Viking era, the latest concept album Field Of Swords turns the page to another chapter in history, moving past the year 1066 and into the Middle Ages. As warfare evolves and the significance of forging iron with carbon leads to superior swordsmen, the bloodstained battlefields show new, grim faces, leaving room for more of BLOODBOUND’s vivid storytelling that continues to thrill audiences at countless live shows around the globe. BLOODBOUND’s first release with Napalm Records adds another 11 captivating battle hymns to their repertoire. A diverse record with aggressive songs and epic tracks alike, their eleventh album also contains some of the band’s fastest material ever written. The opening title track, “Field Of Swords”, immediately storms into BLOODBOUND’s signature sound, braiding stories of glory with a sweeping blend of melodic and heavy power metal. The dominant “As Empires Fall” follows the crusaders east and powerfully depicts said glory in epic battle in contrast with sacrifices made on the way. “Defenders Of Jerusalem” cleverly expands on the topic of loss, leaving listeners to wonder which side is holding their heads up high in the face of imminent defeat. Catchy flutes have the heroes take heart in “The Code Of Warriors” to guide them into the “Land Of The Brave” and Field Of Swords to new heights at the same time. “Light In The Sky” further illustrates BLOODBOUND’s battle scars turned electrifying sound, while the mature “Teutonic Knights” opens up the bleak reality of the tragedy that undoubtedly accompanies this battle-torn era of history. Yet, “Forged In Iron”, “Pain and Glory”, and “Born to be King” hold their ground as equally unforgettable tunes, all leading up to the brilliant finale: Brittney Slayes of powerhouse Canadian band UNLEASH THE ARCHERS joins “The Nine Crusades” as another valuable fighter to lead Field Of Swords to greatness. BLOODBOUND’s latest triumphant march impressively illustrates the importance of purpose and perseverance with heroic tales in shining heavy metal armor.
Göden’s second endeavor Vale of the Fallen out on 17th of May 2024 Göden is back, and on their latest album the sound is heavier than ever. Guitarist/Bassist Stephen Flam is best known for his previous work with the band Winter, whose sludgy dirge earned a cult following for years to come. Göden is the spiritual successor to Winter. One could say Celtic Frost is to Triptykon what Winter is to Göden. Their debut album, “Beyond Darkness” stood on its own in creating a distinctive world. Now, four years later, they explore new sonic territories with their second album, “Vale of the Fallen”. While "Beyond Darkness" was a concept album that propelled listeners into space, whether inner or outer, “Vale of the Fallen” brings us back to twisted reality. Their more in-your-face approach should only intensify the experience-much like a walk through a post-apocalyptic landscape in the bleakest imaginable conditions. Sound-wise, Stephen Flam's heavier-than-life riffs, Vas Kallas's sardonic delivery and Tony Pinnisi's keyboards create oppressive atmospheres atop Jason Frantz's powerful drumming, while Margaret Murphy’s violin weaves ghostly motifs. Like its predecessor, “Vale of the Fallen” features interludes which provide brief respites between some tracks, only to return to the crushing heaviness in yet another avalanche of sound. This might be your favorite album of 2024.
Black Vinyl[25,17 €]
Göden’s second endeavor Vale of the Fallen out on 17th of May 2024 Göden is back, and on their latest album the sound is heavier than ever. Guitarist/Bassist Stephen Flam is best known for his previous work with the band Winter, whose sludgy dirge earned a cult following for years to come. Göden is the spiritual successor to Winter. One could say Celtic Frost is to Triptykon what Winter is to Göden. Their debut album, “Beyond Darkness” stood on its own in creating a distinctive world. Now, four years later, they explore new sonic territories with their second album, “Vale of the Fallen”. While "Beyond Darkness" was a concept album that propelled listeners into space, whether inner or outer, “Vale of the Fallen” brings us back to twisted reality. Their more in-your-face approach should only intensify the experience-much like a walk through a post-apocalyptic landscape in the bleakest imaginable conditions. Sound-wise, Stephen Flam's heavier-than-life riffs, Vas Kallas's sardonic delivery and Tony Pinnisi's keyboards create oppressive atmospheres atop Jason Frantz's powerful drumming, while Margaret Murphy’s violin weaves ghostly motifs. Like its predecessor, “Vale of the Fallen” features interludes which provide brief respites between some tracks, only to return to the crushing heaviness in yet another avalanche of sound. This might be your favorite album of 2024.
Red Vinyl
Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output.
Combining their early recordings, including the 1979 Flesh As Property EP and 1980 State Of Emergency EP, Courts Or Wars takes its title from the first song that served as the pair’s introduction to listeners. Right from the beginning you are enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Where The Sound fit snugly next to Echo And The Bunnymen, Second Layer had far more in common with the pulsing menace of Suicide.
Borland’s familiar vocals and sense of melody hold a connection to his other songwriting, but within these songs he takes far more risks in his guitar work to suit the subject matter. What really drives everything is Bailey’s propulsive bedrock, formed by his homemade pre-drum machine rhythm generators, creating an innovative mechanical approach that somehow inserts a jittery neurotic touch that merges perfectly with his electronic layers driven by the wasp synth, various unique effects boxes or tape loops. Adding in Bailey’s own distinctive bass playing, the results feel personal and experimental, pointed and harsh, while also bracingly accessible and covered in dark manic energy.
Over forty years later, these recordings feel shockingly appropriate. In painting a bleak reality and frightening future, there is real desperate beauty here.
Richmond, VA-based harsh industrial metal deconstructors Hold Me Down reanimate their design for total sonic retaliation through their latest creation, "Powerless", a debut full-length offering of caustic post-industrial punishment and complete sensorial undoing which follows brilliantly in the steps of their transformative 2019 Sentient Ruin-issued self-titled demo tape. As is now commonplace with bands and their releases associated with Sentient Ruin, an aura of ambivalence, reverence and transformation enshrouds this work, with the echoes of legendary industrial acts like Skinny Puppy, Ministry, Godflesh and Swans reverberating from the past and undergoing a future-projecting metamorphosis, as present time contaminants (power electronics, blackened noise, death industrial) enter the picture in an aberrant recombination of stylistic DNA, paving the way to groundbreaking and grim sonic transfigurations. Throughout its ten cold bursts of synthetic mechanized dissolution Hold Me Down explore concepts of withdrawal, personal failure, societal fracture and emotional unravelling through a bleak post-industrial disassociation where disorienting drum machines, vitriolic metal guitars, bleak soundscapes and oppressive electronics instigate a depersonalizing collapse within the listener. As the album's title suggests, the medium of harsh and sensorially annihilating industrial synthesis is the centerpiece to this new work, wielded by the band as a dissociative means, or as a schematic to the dismantling of the listener, who ultimately must be rendered powerless, nothing more than an empty reflection of its surroundings and existence, with the music acting as its cold and implacable ruiner. A bleak projection of reality emerges from this design, boring through consciousness with surgical precision to destroy it from within, leaving nothing but a smoldering wreckage in its wake.
HESITATION return with a heartfelt take on the Christmas record. A gift of seven traditional pieces fed through a brandy-oiled machine of analogue synthesizers and robotically assisted singing, festooned with wayward horns and primitive sprigs of guitar recorded in a conservatory in Dorchester.
The emotional hit of the results - from the deconstructed Macca synth and plucked harmonics of 'Good King Wenceslas', to the zero gravity glacial cloud that forms 'Once in Royal David's City' - is undeniable. Think John Fahey and Beefheart pulling an augmented reality wishbone, and you're halfway there.
Recommended if you like CS + Kreme, Zappa, Colleen.
In pairing words with art, the ESP Institute often does everything journalists hate. We drown the reader in hyperbole, abstractions as opposed to didactic or literal depictions, and paint the press release with superlatives that construct an existential struggle around the art and its conditions. To articulate our reasoning behind collaborating with the artist, or the synergy between their work and our catalogue, is sometimes so challenging that crossing that finish line is achingly delayed. Patrick Conway’s 2xLP 'Cellular Housekeeping', his fourth release with the label, is one of these works so monumentally exciting for us that we’ve strained over how to deliver with honor his art unto the masses. After the initial hurdle of visual representation (in this case handled with gusto by artist Hassan Rahim), how do we directly and intentionally talk about the art we deeply love, when in reality we’re largely guided by instinct? We explore many angles, often failing along the way, until finding a final click in the combination that unlocks the floodgates. With Patrick’s album, that elusive impetus revealed itself in a literary gem that both symbolized his aggressive, melancholic, romantic, and bleak overtones, as well as synchronized his work and our task with a metaphor so grand it justified putting these words to paper. In the deeply British poem of despair and hope, 'Comus: A Mask Presented at Ludlow Castle', John Milton immortalized the classic idiom of the “silver lining”, and we find comfort in this transaction between struggle and what the poet considered divine intervention. Our bout of procrastination that brewed a cloud over the art may too tout a silver lining, the time that’s elapsed clearing a path for the album to exist in its rightful place, as opposed to fighting for a voice at an overcrowded table. In hindsight, this final hurdle might have only existed because without it, there is no glory, no resolution, but as all the pieces click and we collectively cross the finish line, Patrick Conway’s once captive 'Cellular Housekeeping' is now truly released.
Summer was conceived as an entry point for Sonae to access and wrestle with difficult themes, to engage with them authentically, artfully, personally. It was also the starting point for a collaborative audio-visual project with video artist Jennifer Trees (the confronting multimedia installation that premiers in September 2021 at Stadtgarten, Cologne).
Summer articulates these ideas using the unique musical and sonic language that Sonae has been developing across previous releases. The expressive textures and tender melodics of 2015’s Far Away is Right Around the Corner; the atmospheric noise and brute unease of 2018’s I Started Wearing Black; the vicious edges of her 2019 remix-tape Music For People Who Shave Their Heads. Summer is haunted by blistered cellos and spectral string drones, the elegant and emotive movement around diatonic harmonies that echo the classicism and bucolic themes of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons (1775). Like Vivaldi, Sonae’s work is programmatic, presenting a progressive, intensifying narrative and suggesting aural phenomena of the natural world - buzzing insects, breaking rocks, waves crashing, dust and heat rising - and characterising the seasonal spirit as capricious, volatile and punishing. In these ways, Summer is related to pastoral traditions of European classicism, evoking the aura of doomed and dust-blown gothic grandiosity. It also has feet firmly planted within the lean, sound worlds of underground techno - pulsating four-on-the-floor beats with deep, vibrational sine-wave sub kicks; elegantly bleak, distorted atmospherics that straddle the uncanny space between corrosion and euphoria. The result is a visceral and poetic listening experience. Original, highly affecting, fully engaging body, mind and soul. (…)
Sonae’s music evokes imagination, provokes emotion, and disrupts and defies expectations. She explores the edges and intensities of experience, creating audible and embodied sensations that suggest the physical, atmospheric, and psychological effects of global warming on a living organism. We feel the fatigue, the slowness, sweatiness, dizziness, the sensations of uncomfortable warmth and burning; the atmospheres are hazy, dark and heavy, articulations are brutish and tactile, crunchy and sharp; there is restlessness and resignation, desolation and awe.
Summer is not a warning. It is not an explanation or an argument. It offers no answers. Summer simply holds up a mirror and asks us to experience and behold both the beauty and the brutality of our present reality. It is a work of protest, grief and hope, and it functions as a space for the listener to reckon with these truths and sensations for themselves. (Leah Kardos, London, June 2021)
Sonae (Sonia Güttler) is a German electronic producer and DJ, based in Cologne. Her acclaimed debut album was released in 2015 with Monika Enterprise (Berlin) followed on the same label with her second album in 2018 : ‘’I Started Wearing Black’’. Her Third album ‘’Music For People Who Shave Their Heads’’ has been released in 2019 with bit-phalanx (London).
Sonae plays live solo and with the label collective Monika Werkstatt at places like Institut Für Zukunft (Leipzig), Meakusma Festival (Eupen), Ausland (Berlin), Pop Kultur Festival (Berlin), Fusion Festival (Germany), Uh-Fest (Budapest), Cafe Oto (London), 23rpm Festival (London) The Cube (Bristol) and more on the same bill with Squarepusher, Plaid, Darkstar, Kyoka, Frank Bretschneider, Tim Exile.
Billy Nomates, the fierce, funny, outspoken force of nature who hails from Melton Mowbray and now flits between Bournemouth and Bristol, has arrived to rattle cages.
The songs on her debut album all come from a place of defiance. Rebellion against Brexit. Against soul-sapping, dead-end jobs and zero-hours contracts. Against gender inequality, sexual harassment and festivals with obligatory female acts hidden in the small print. Billy’s songs lampoon the same bleak reality satirised by her beloved Scarfolk website and explored so abrasively in the fringe theatre
she finds solace in.
Musically, there are snatches of Nick Cave’s rumbling sprechgesang; the “off-the-wall-ness of musicians like Captain Beefheart”; Sleaford Mods’ febrile post-punk; the groovesome lofi art-rock of Sonic Youth and the brassy Americana of Emmylou Harris. What dominates, though, is a feeling of release. Of letting it all out.
The track ‘Supermarket Sweep’ features guest vocals by Jason Williamson of Sleaford Mods.
LP is pressed on yellow vinyl, housed in a heavyweight spined sleeve with gold foil text print. Includes printed insert with handwritten lyrics and digital download card.
Limited edition cloudy clear vinyl. Combining processed recordings of wind and water with analog synthesizers and chamber orchestra, Elori Kramer's The Blue of Distance is an audio dissertation on the role technology plays in our relationships to geography and nature, unspooling into an examination of memory and longing across seven sections that layer filmic minimalism over churning electronic soundbeds. Half of the suite was written in the Adirondack mountains during summer amid lakes, rivers, and moss-laden forest floors, while the other half was conceived on a frozen Lake Superior island in deep winter, creating a subtextual dialogue between the two extreme settings. Kramer, who was born in 1990 and grew up alongside the internet, uses her music to explore nature in the actual and the virtual world, through direct experience and facsimile alike, focussing and blurring the line between the two. "Looking back at my videos of that summer-- which is where the processed audio came from-- I tried to remember what it had felt like to be there," she recalls, "thinking about questions of reality versus imagination; physical versus digital; and the ways in which memory shifts through our minds and technology." The title The Blue of Distance was derived from Rebecca Solnit's book A Field Guide to Getting Lost, referring to the phenomenon of faraway mountains appearing blue due to light particles getting lost over distance. "If we were to go up to the mountains that appear blue from far away, we would see that they weren't actually that color." she says. "This beauty is made possible because of their distance," much in the same way that the splendor of a lush season is only fully realized in the throes of a bleak one, and the joy of an event can only be felt when it has long since been consigned to remembrance. R.I.Y.L Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, Philip Glass, Steve Reich, Josiah Steinbrick, Emily Sprague
Domestic Exile are proud to present the devastatingly deplorable and malevolent recordings (that are sure to corrode yet electrify your ears) by Glasgow's very own KLEFT.
KLEFT aka Vickie McDonald is rooted in and has actively propagated the underground DIY radical queer punk and feminist movement here in Glasgow. Their projects have included the skull crushing sludge doom of Cartilage, the unflinching and infamous multi- membered hard core stars that were DIVORCE and the sacrificial, druid drone glitch of MOURN. Alongside these projects they have uncompromisingly disrupted, motivated and facilitated collective endeavors to take down the capital power structure of the dominant system of patriarchal club venues and abhorrent fuckers in this town.
For this record 'H+ Sexualis', KLEFT explores the neo-modern space where flesh is left behind. Negotiating, analyzing and tearing to shreds the relationship and balance between flesh and technology. KLEFT's expansive and palpable sonic offerings delve into themes of transhumanism and body hacking and seep into our collective skin begging the question; can flesh ever be created digitally. Does a lack of physicality alienate human experience in a post transhumanism society Are we all destined to be skinless yet digitally connected Will the body become superfluous Toward "the utopian dream of the hope for a monstrous world without gender," as stated on Donna Haraway's essay ''A Cyborg Manifesto.'
From the opening track 'Ossein' the listener grasps a foreboding lethargic build up, lurking out of the spatial ritualistic shadows into a sea of suffocating nothingness. A void where there is no gravity. Skeletal and brittle shattering rhythms which echo DMZ / Skull Disco dubstep alongside the more frozen, glacial ominous explorations of grime are often felt proving KLEFT is an artist whose inspirations run deep and wide and generally exist in the darkest recesses of our subconscious. These fearful, disjointed rhythms are set against weightless atmospheric oscillated synths, as if roaming through bleakly opaque, claustrophobic narrow corridors on a first person survival horror video game such as Resident Evil.
Moving through to 'CMBR', KLEFT's dissonant, degrading soundscape ferociously ascends. The resilient kick drum is propulsive and pulverizing akin to 'ardcore tekno - or intense gabba if you have the guts to adjust the tempo up to +8 - aesthetics that overwhelm and agitate finally revealing it's grotesque biological / amorphous bio structure. Elevating the repetitive 4/4 kick to a destructive, distorted banger of a track as layers of converging atonal noise and sound design simultaneously further enhances the sense of imminent radioactive contamination.
Next is 'Writhe, Squirm, Broken' continuing the convulsive, nauseating permutations of the prior track but reconfigured like a mangled, gruesome Cronenberg-esque parasite that has infiltrated an open wound, excruciatingly feeding off of the inner anatomy of it's hosts body from within. Repulsively reformulating the shape and dimension. The intro is akin to a panic stricken bouncy ball contracting and expanding, the spring reverb building momentum and traveling further away in distance and speed.
'Hackfleisch Deluxe' is a muuurrderous stomper and is one of the more grime / bass orientated tracks that deconstructs and disrupts the tempo familiar to sub-low producers on Black Ops / Jon E Cash / DJ Dread D. The crawling, plummeting frequency of the synth is a nauseating rush of coagulating blood to the heed; a deep throbbing sensory depravation in sharp, paradoxical contrast with the driving harmony layered on top which proves to be infectiously addictive. Furthermore are splintering programmed vocal samples that gives a sense of artificial disorientation, mind over matter, a possible hint at our evolving sentient cognition within a nightmarish simulated, augmented reality
Second to last we have 'Keratin' which is filled with the near fatal dissolving thud of Djax-Up acid that gives the impression that you're a biologist peering through a microscope into a petrie dish and witnessing the rapid and furious genetic cellular replication of bacterial and viral organisms.
Culminating in 'Bruised and Bleeding Hands' where the squashed density of a deflated and depressurized helium filled balloon and elastic umbilical cords, barbed wire and copper wires grind n' coil around the lens of a zooming camera. Taking no prisoners, this is a punishing grime weapon. A phat, surgical kick drum bulldozes its way thru causing carnage, syncopated punching snares after every rave stab and dizzying third beat. It won't be long until ye hear this on Silver Drizzle's youtube channel in the near future.
This record transports us to the hyperkinetic mutation scene on the cult cyberpunk film Tetsuo The Iron Man where the organic flesh / mechanical rust of the Iron Man metamorphoses with the Metal Fetishist during the rebirth sequence and we say 'LONG LIVE THE NEW FLESH!''.
originally released in 1990-with Liz Lamere - Never released on vinyl-
Born in Brooklyn, Alan Vega was reared on the rock 'n' roll sound of Elvis Presley and Roy Orbison, but originally struck out on a career as a visual artist and light sculptor, making pieces out of electronic debris. But on the occasion of seeing Iggy Pop fronting the Stooges at The Stooges at the New York State Pavilion in 1969 was an epiphany for Vega. It showed me you didn't have to do static artworks, you could create situations,' he said. That show was the first time in my life the audience and the stage merged into one." It was that eradication of barriers between the two that Vega took to heart.
Their first two albums, 1977's Suicide and their 1980 follow-up, remain two of the era's greatest touchstones, beacons for others seeking to transform their worlds with sound. And even during the group's hiatus through the 1980s, Vega continued to pursue his singular vision across an individualistic solo output. From his 1980 self-titled debut and rockabilly-infused albums like Saturn Strip, through bracing albums like Power On to Zero Hour and IT, Vega forged his own singular path.
For all the darkness and despair that encompasses this moment in our world - and despite his work being depicted as bleak and nihilistic - for Vega there was always a sense of hope and a place for dreams to become reality. People have always told me that my music is angry,' he said. To me, it was always just an energy. It was the way I perceived the world. The key Suicide song was 'Dream Baby Dream,' which was about the need to keep our dreams alive. I knew back then that something poisonous was encroaching on our lives, on all our freedoms.' He fought to his very last breath for that freedom.
originally released in 1993 - with Ric Ocasek & Liz Lamere-Never released on vinyl-
Born in Brooklyn, Alan Vega was reared on the rock 'n' roll sound of Elvis Presley and Roy Orbison, but originally struck out on a career as a visual artist and light sculptor, making pieces out of electronic debris. But on the occasion of seeing Iggy Pop fronting the Stooges at The Stooges at the New York State Pavilion in 1969 was an epiphany for Vega. It showed me you didn't have to do static artworks, you could create situations,' he said. That show was the first time in my life the audience and the stage merged into one." It was that eradication of barriers between the two that Vega took to heart.
Their first two albums, 1977's Suicide and their 1980 follow-up, remain two of the era's greatest touchstones, beacons for others seeking to transform their worlds with sound. And even during the group's hiatus through the 1980s, Vega continued to pursue his singular vision across an individualistic solo output. From his 1980 self-titled debut and rockabilly-infused albums like Saturn Strip, through bracing albums like Power On to Zero Hour and IT, Vega forged his own singular path.
For all the darkness and despair that encompasses this moment in our world - and despite his work being depicted as bleak and nihilistic - for Vega there was always a sense of hope and a place for dreams to become reality. People have always told me that my music is angry,' he said. To me, it was always just an energy. It was the way I perceived the world. The key Suicide song was 'Dream Baby Dream,' which was about the need to keep our dreams alive. I knew back then that something poisonous was encroaching on our lives, on all our freedoms.' He fought to his very last breath for that freedom.
There is something singularly unique and peculiar in the degree to which seemingly unsettling themes and extreme taboos have been explored, most notably in the medium of film, in the land of Nippon. Free from the constraints of reality, notions of grotesque brutality, torture, fetishism, and sadomasochism, to name a few, have oftentimes served as driving motifs in the examination of the true nature of violence latent in the most repressed reaches of the human mind. Concurrently, in the realm of electronic music, many Japanese producers have often been able to cultivate and harness a daring yet distinctly refined and inimitable form of organized sonic chaos, one almost instantly recognizable to the occidental ear. The music of Tomohiko Sagae, and in particular his latest contribution to Furanum's catalogue, The Spurt of Blood, is perhaps a quintessential example of the confluence of the former themes and latter medium.
At the outset of the record, the beholder is faced with the 'Vacant Eyes' of a staggering monstrosity, a subdued and subjugated automata in the midst of a bleak dystopia, nearly lifeless but for the grudgingly conceded advance of its death march. As a battery of gratuitous aural violence led by a dominant synth is rapidly unleashed in the subsequent composition, a growing malaise transforms into fractured bone and psyche alike, with no distinction made anymore between the tearing of metal, flesh, or the fabric of the mind. Culminating in 'Severe Pain', with limits of endurance breached and descent into madness the only seeming form of respite, relentlessly rolling drums and hauntingly sublime howls provide the context for the dawning realization of pain as a virtue in and of itself, when a demented pleasure and the exhilarative liberation that lies therein begins to emerge. In the final act, reinterpreted by Furanum stalwarts Uncto, roles are tellingly reversed as the vacant eyes of the victim become that of the oppressor. With cold-blooded precision, the original is reengineered into a force of merciless domination, its elements machined and recalibrated for pure power.Words: PSD
