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With the Hormesis EP, Alric Aerial explores the delicate threshold between pressure and growth. The title a reference to the biological phenomenon where stress triggers a positive adaptation serves as the conceptual foundation for a sound born from deep introspection.

It is a testament to the idea that resilience is not just about enduring, but about evolving through the friction.

In his productions, Alric Aerial weaves together personal and cultural fragments, bridging the echoes of his heritage (Tales From The Desert Part II) with a conscious departure from familiar scenes and habits (Good To Be Gone). This work marks a natural evolution a shift from the noise of the outside world toward a more refined, intentional focus in the studio.

The tracks strike a balance between "dirty" authenticity and infectious, groovy basslines. From driving, straight-forward rhythms to melodic leads, the work shifts between cinematic tension and uncompromising momentum. Especially in the title track, Hormesis, Alric’s vision culminates in the transformation of fragmentation into energy. The music invites the listener to find a new kind of presence within the act of disappearing to get lost in the pulse, only to emerge more resilient.

Deluxe reissue of their 1989 sophomore album pressed on pale blue colour vinyl.
Presented in a gloss laminated gatefold sleeve, which features the original LP plus a bonus disc with all the A and B sides, some compilation tracks and an outtake, plus a 12-page booklet containing previously unpublished lyrics and tons of contemporary reviews and photos.
Completely remastered for your listening pleasure.
In 1989, while the musical world was fêting serial-killer worshipping noise bands, white boys with dreadlocks and the first glimmers of techno, one band – The Wolfhounds – was describing the times and the country exactly as they were. Or at least as they saw it.
Well, not exactly. The privations of finding enough money to live on, a semi-permanent roof over your head and perhaps the hope of real change were all there in the lyrics along with the multitudinous shards of ideas in the music, both raging and reflective – but there was also a sense of magical realism and authentic personal circumstance imbued in it all.
Formed as a frantic noisy fusion of sixties garage and independent post-punk in Romford in 1984, by 1986 it was the band’s misfortunate to be corralled with the jangly and quirky bands of the era-defining C86 tape, given away free with the NME that year. The frustration of being lumped with the lumpen was already spilling over into a heightened creativity that would see the band release three LPs in 18 months, the first and perhaps most fully realised of which was Bright & Guilty.
The band’s sense of melody saw three singles taken off it, and all received plentiful radio play that resulted in enthusiastic audience responses when the band toured with My Bloody Valentine and the House of Love shortly after the LP came out. This renewed attention also saw them being threatened with legal action by the food company satirically targeted by one of the singles – Happy Shopper.
The band’s magpie listening habits also saw the first glimmers of an interest in sampling with the track Cottonmouth, hip hop in the drum rhythms of Invisible People and Son of Nothing, discordant post- hardcore in Non-specific Song and even percussive hints of Tom Waits’ Rain Dogs in Charterhouse.
The album’s lyrical themes have sustained the relevance of these 30-something year-old songs. The dictatorship of the class system over the economy is touched on in Charterhouse, the unfairness of housing policy in Rent Act and Red Tape Red Light, the desperation of not having enough money to even seek employment in Useless Second Cousin. But there is contemplation and mystery, too: Rope Swing’s nostalgia for pre-teen childhood, Invisible People’s detailing of intangible weaknesses.
Of all their peers, The Wolfhounds post-C86 output stands up straight and proud, and you’ll find echoes of their sound in Fontaines DC, Idles and many others – but not performed with the brashness, vigour and uniqueness of the originals.

The man in the crowd is a wonderer with relaxed habits. In him the course of things and movement of the city is reproduced. The Düsseldorfer Detlef Weinrich is such a man in the crows. Some one who is constantly listening to future winds through rushes of the past. He loves the night for its free will. And his music tells stories about it. You might know him as a member of the band Kreidler. As a solo artist he goes under the name Tolouse Low Trax. And he's already got three Eps and two albums under his belt. His first solo album „Mask Talk“ thrives on a feathery beat frequency and cool new-wave-strength. His recently released piece „Corridor Plateau“, which appeared as a limited edition to accompany the exhibition „Corridor Plateau“ contains percussive electronics and Industrial sounding like its from the second industrial revolution. His third album „Jeidem Fall“, is also not from here. It sounds like music brought down to earth from the heavens. But its a dark cosmos in which there are only fleeting glimpses of light. All eight tracks were composed in a short space of time over the period of just a few months and fit together perfectly atmospherically. With a musical expressiveness that undoubtedly twists your emotions, „Jeidem Fall“ attacks the subconscious and clouds the mind. The drums have more movement that on „Mask Talk“. Along with the constant tapping of drumsticks goes melodical arpeggios dancing dark and dirty. At times longing vocals drift abstractly through the room, as on „Sa Seline“ or „Geo Scan“, without telling any obvious story.

To sound like stylistic cross references from the present and past is all just speculation for nothing on „Jeidem Fall“ really sounds like anything that has gone before. You could compare the dark minimal timbre of the drum computer aesthetic with Craig Leon's first reductive album „Nommos“. There is also a hint of the minimallist industrial of the Spanish band Esplendor Geometrico in the bubbly textures. But Tolouse Low Trax is still looking from the present into the future and filter and filters all his personal preferences through his MPC and his small synth setup to make them come alive here and now in a new way. Again Tolouse Low Trax has created a truly mysteriously vibrating drum computer music which offers hypnotic magic for the shadowy dance floor. Only a little light should illuminate the whole thing and the bodies that move above them should have no fear from threatening percussion which are displaced into a misty trance. A dark swaying shadowy mass, ideal for a journey at the end of the night and all those non-places where longing sleeps and the last romantics dance while getting drunk.

The demons of night are out again: Seoul's one-stop shop creative collective Byul.org returns this fall with its third international album, entitled Nobody's Gold, out via Alien Transistor (worldwide) and the group's own Club Bidanbaem imprint (South Korea). Comprising 14 new songs, it's a dizzying, haunting affair that channels the group's manifold influences and references points (from post-punk to Stockhausen and back via club culture) and yet sounds intriguingly coherent.

Moving in and out of the shadows, Nobody's Gold breaks forth as pure sonic landscape - a universe of its own, folding and unfolding into both more experimental patterns, yet also with occasional hooks and dark catchy structures, gracious build-ups flickering among the hazy roar and thunder. After the screak and squeal of 'Lamb with a Wolf Mask,' the foreboding sounds of 'The Museum of The Two of Us' segue into a synthesized party tune about a missing friend being chased by police ('Nari Yuko Yin'), one of several vocal tracks with a sinister edge. Taking things up another notch, 'Friendly Enemies' is probably the closest this group will ever get to creating a stadium-ready anthem. On the other end of the spectrum, 'The Place Where Designers Go To Die' is a magnificent void with an immense and irresistible undertow...

Never too jolly (not even while 'Day Drinking at a Seaside Town' or during takeoff via epic pop tune 'Bats We Are'), Nobody's Gold compiles soundscapes with a very tangible, corporeal presence - iridescent sonic sculptures placed in unlikely settings (e.g. outer space, see: 'Dirty Dirtiness'), born at the fringes where night blends into day and vice versa.

Inspired by everyday life, half-remembered drug/club experiences, Pascal Quignard's disturbing La haine de la musique, Stockhausen and Bill Evans, the new LP sees the collective remain true to its DIY foundations while repeatedly questioning our listening habits and 'the exaggerated love for the concept of love,' as they put it.

Founded around the dawn of the millennium as a group of poetry-loving friends who'd occasionally meet for drinks, Byul.org has long become an extremely prolific and versatile collective within Seoul's scene: Main song-writer TaeSang Cho and his mates Yu Hur, Jowall, YunYi Yi, SuhnJoo YI, HyunJung Suh, and SoYoon Hwang went from publishing to recording, from releasing tunes to design, art direction and more. Although their list of clients includes Atelier Herme`s and the Venice Biennale (they did the Korean Pavilion twice), the group still remains a drinking circle of close friends at its core: Pals who simply like to create and carouse and dream and live and perform and play tunes together.