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IRST ALBUM IN 10 YEARS.
TOURING WITH TROPICAL FUCK STORM IN NOVEMBER (DATES BELOW).
PRODUCED BY DAN LUSCOMBE (THE DRONES) WHO IS ALSO PART OF THE LIVE BAND.
PREVIOUS ALBUMS ON HARDLY ART/SUB POP AND REMOTE CONTROL.
VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL AND INDIES ONLY PINK VINYL . NON-RETURNABLE.

‘Jarrod Quarrell, creator of Lost Animal, is one of the most underrated songwriters in Australia and one of our all-time favourites. He creates poetic expressions. His work is very interesting in a highly original way and richly emotional. The songs reveal themselves more over many listens and always feel fresh. His powerful, beautiful, transformative, and unforgettable songs possess the vast depth of the human spirit.’ - GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE ZINE

‘Quarrell has developed a collaged techne​ that embodies a heart-on-sleeve attitude. Lush melodic delays wash with an influx of lyrics that pierce with uncanny imagery and diction.’ - VICE

It’s not every day you hear about a new Lost Animal album. In fact, it’s been ten years between drinks. The debut Ex Tropical (Hardly Art/Sub Pop) was released in 2011, and followed by You Yang (Remote Control) in 2016. So what happened, and where’s frontman/mastermind Jarrod Quarrell been for the last ten years?

From the horse's mouth, “I don't give a fuck about productivity”. A humbling reply. It confirms Quarrell's MO: here’s an artist as a non-conformist. And when he does see fit to bless us with his unique vision of what music can sound like, it has the ability to completely charm and disarm. Amongst a sea of rock bands, LA is essentially a solo act. Simply put; LA is JQ. But on the other hand, amongst an ocean of solo acts, LA possesses the grandiosity of a full band, punk in spirit, but without being fast, or heavy.

Armed with keys and synths, timbres align more with what a toucan might listen to, as opposed to what's heard commonly throughout Melbourne's gig economy. Strings are gently plucked and horns are tenderly blown. These are the colourful brush strokes that decorate the upper frequencies. They’re the ticket to a far away land;exotic, and potentially very dangerous. If the crew from Hear My Eyes are reading this, consider Lost Animal performing Give Some Get Some as the soundtrack to the next time you screen The Hangover Part 2. Yeah, the one where shit gets super fried in Thailand.

The album examines the underbelly of what a ten year journey might rub up against. As one may expect, a lot of that action is below the belt. Tracks like Do That Thing, and In
Rewinding, a few things have happened in the past ten years that are worth illuminating. Shags is no longer commandeering the bass full time. Though he does make an appearance on a couple tracks. The main difference from present day to yesteryear LA is Dan Luscombe (The Drones). Luscombe has jumped into the role of producer (and also part of the live band). One could say he’s a producer of the Spector-ilk: playing a hands-on approach and assisting Quarrell's song crafting. He may have suggested to add a chorus or two, but the chord progressions remain distinctly Lost Animal. You'll recognise them easily by their beauty, combined with either fragility or rigidity. Luscombe is arguably the defining force that made this album happen. Perhaps he had Quarrell at gunpoint. Yet to be confirmed. Regardless, thank fuck for Luscombe because it may have been another decade.

But the album's defining feature is arguably Quarrell's lyricism. He may not cross-examine where he's been, but his voice does unmask where he is: absolved and reincarnated. The decade-long journey has resulted in him looking inwards and unlocking himself. The album's many mantras suggest that he may be a bird (I'm a Bird Now), or that he is living on another planet (Never is Forever). Whatever and wherever he may be,
Give Some Get Some invites the listener to reflect on their own journey over the past decade. Because the game's got a price. So ask yourself what have you taken, and what have you given? Life ain't a box of chocolates. It's a bowl of berries. And when fruit symbolizes temptation, get some.

IRST ALBUM IN 10 YEARS.
TOURING WITH TROPICAL FUCK STORM IN NOVEMBER (DATES BELOW).
PRODUCED BY DAN LUSCOMBE (THE DRONES) WHO IS ALSO PART OF THE LIVE BAND.
PREVIOUS ALBUMS ON HARDLY ART/SUB POP AND REMOTE CONTROL.
VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL AND INDIES ONLY PINK VINYL . NON-RETURNABLE.

‘Jarrod Quarrell, creator of Lost Animal, is one of the most underrated songwriters in Australia and one of our all-time favourites. He creates poetic expressions. His work is very interesting in a highly original way and richly emotional. The songs reveal themselves more over many listens and always feel fresh. His powerful, beautiful, transformative, and unforgettable songs possess the vast depth of the human spirit.’ - GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE ZINE

‘Quarrell has developed a collaged techne​ that embodies a heart-on-sleeve attitude. Lush melodic delays wash with an influx of lyrics that pierce with uncanny imagery and diction.’ - VICE

It’s not every day you hear about a new Lost Animal album. In fact, it’s been ten years between drinks. The debut Ex Tropical (Hardly Art/Sub Pop) was released in 2011, and followed by You Yang (Remote Control) in 2016. So what happened, and where’s frontman/mastermind Jarrod Quarrell been for the last ten years?

From the horse's mouth, “I don't give a fuck about productivity”. A humbling reply. It confirms Quarrell's MO: here’s an artist as a non-conformist. And when he does see fit to bless us with his unique vision of what music can sound like, it has the ability to completely charm and disarm. Amongst a sea of rock bands, LA is essentially a solo act. Simply put; LA is JQ. But on the other hand, amongst an ocean of solo acts, LA possesses the grandiosity of a full band, punk in spirit, but without being fast, or heavy.

Armed with keys and synths, timbres align more with what a toucan might listen to, as opposed to what's heard commonly throughout Melbourne's gig economy. Strings are gently plucked and horns are tenderly blown. These are the colourful brush strokes that decorate the upper frequencies. They’re the ticket to a far away land;exotic, and potentially very dangerous. If the crew from Hear My Eyes are reading this, consider Lost Animal performing Give Some Get Some as the soundtrack to the next time you screen The Hangover Part 2. Yeah, the one where shit gets super fried in Thailand.

The album examines the underbelly of what a ten year journey might rub up against. As one may expect, a lot of that action is below the belt. Tracks like Do That Thing, and In
Rewinding, a few things have happened in the past ten years that are worth illuminating. Shags is no longer commandeering the bass full time. Though he does make an appearance on a couple tracks. The main difference from present day to yesteryear LA is Dan Luscombe (The Drones). Luscombe has jumped into the role of producer (and also part of the live band). One could say he’s a producer of the Spector-ilk: playing a hands-on approach and assisting Quarrell's song crafting. He may have suggested to add a chorus or two, but the chord progressions remain distinctly Lost Animal. You'll recognise them easily by their beauty, combined with either fragility or rigidity. Luscombe is arguably the defining force that made this album happen. Perhaps he had Quarrell at gunpoint. Yet to be confirmed. Regardless, thank fuck for Luscombe because it may have been another decade.

But the album's defining feature is arguably Quarrell's lyricism. He may not cross-examine where he's been, but his voice does unmask where he is: absolved and reincarnated. The decade-long journey has resulted in him looking inwards and unlocking himself. The album's many mantras suggest that he may be a bird (I'm a Bird Now), or that he is living on another planet (Never is Forever). Whatever and wherever he may be,
Give Some Get Some invites the listener to reflect on their own journey over the past decade. Because the game's got a price. So ask yourself what have you taken, and what have you given? Life ain't a box of chocolates. It's a bowl of berries. And when fruit symbolizes temptation, get some.

More good news for fans of Luke Vibert's Plug output. Hot on the heels of the Variety Magic album, released earlier this year, De:tuned returns to the vault with four more previously unreleased Plug tracks.

Following the hugely acclaimed 11-track Variety Magic, which saw Vibert unearth and hand-pick a collection of forgotten jungle and drum & bass gems from his original mid-90s DAT archive, Robotic Futuristic digs even deeper into the same treasure trove. Four more raw, playful and highly distinctive Plug cuts, all previously unheard and finally brought to light.

The EP takes its title from one of the tracks and opens with Luke Vibert's personal favourite: 'Bring A Fuckin' Army'. A full-on jungle workout driven by rolling breaks, heavyweight bass and that unmistakable Plug funk. Put the needle on the record and let it rip. Go 'Head - Do It!

Robotic Futuristic also marks the 17th anniversary of De:tuned, making this a particularly fitting release for the Belgian label.

Visualised by the Variety Magi. Stencil art by Pablo Fiasco and rewired by Openmind. Mastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis. A separate digital release will also be available at the usual digital shops.

More good news for fans of Luke Vibert's Plug output. Hot on the heels of the Variety Magic album, released earlier this year, De:tuned returns to the vault with four more previously unreleased Plug tracks.

Following the hugely acclaimed 11-track Variety Magic, which saw Vibert unearth and hand-pick a collection of forgotten jungle and drum & bass gems from his original mid-90s DAT archive, Robotic Futuristic digs even deeper into the same treasure trove. Four more raw, playful and highly distinctive Plug cuts, all previously unheard and finally brought to light.

The EP takes its title from one of the tracks and opens with Luke Vibert's personal favourite: 'Bring A Fuckin' Army'. A full-on jungle workout driven by rolling breaks, heavyweight bass and that unmistakable Plug funk. Put the needle on the record and let it rip. Go 'Head - Do It!

Robotic Futuristic also marks the 17th anniversary of De:tuned, making this a particularly fitting release for the Belgian label.

Visualised by the Variety Magi. Stencil art by Pablo Fiasco and rewired by Openmind. Mastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis. A separate digital release will also be available at the usual digital shops.

This new volume of Casquiat diesel into the streets of LA and mixes up the raw realities of life and plenty of lyrical and production innovation across mutant rap, hip-hop, breakbeat and dub sounds. 'Mexican Illegals' is a big opener with distorted bass blasts and ice-cold analogue beats with a stylish delivery up top that twists and turns between the drums. 'Fuck Ice (bonus beat)' is menacing and full of swagger with saw tooth synths and infectious syncopation, then 'Pistol Grip Pump' (Casquiat remix) is an early rap sound made freaky with sci-fi production touches and larger than life bars.

Laurant Webb, Dave Coker, Justin Bailey and Dave Pine were the driving forces behind Strange Weather Studios. Based in Southeast London, the studio served as a creative hub, playing a pivotal role in shaping the sound of a groundbreaking genre. Alongside close friends and collaborators, they produced a series of influential records that have left an indelible mark on the music landscape.

This release is a heartfelt tribute to Strange Weather Studios and the talented individuals who brought its magic to life. It also honours the studio’s production partners though iconic projects such as Housey Doingz, 7th Voyage, Space Bunny, Get Fucked and Green Eyed Monster. These projects that were instrumental in forging the signature, original London Tech House sound.

The tracks on this record have been handpicked by Laurant Webb and Yossi Amoyal, meticulously restored and remastered from the rare original DATs.

This release marks a significant milestone for London Tech House, symbolising a collaboration between its key pioneers and a label that evolved alongside the genre. It’s an organic partnership that celebrates the past and looks towards the future. A project we’re incredibly proud to share with you

Unearthed from the original DAT at Strange Weather Studios in South London, Get Fucked's Unearthed Stash traces a chronological journey through the legendary group's earliest recording sessions, from the raw chaos of their 1999 debut album to the more refined dub house explorations that led into their second LP.

Sourced from the best surviving master DATs this collection brings together remastered classics, lost versions and previously unreleased edits, offering unfiltered look into one of the UK underground's most fearless creative period.

Each track has been carefully remastered to preserve the saturated punch, tape grit and raw energy of the original sessions, while expanding definition for modern sound systems.

Pressed on 180g heavyweight black vinyl, Unearthed Stash is strictly for collectors and true heads preserving the energy and attitude that made Get Fucked pioneers of the London underground sound. A raw document of a lost era, revived.

Archival Gold. From The Source. Unearthed at Last.

True Sneaker Social die-hard Etch returns with a monumental new album. Scream of the Butterfly shows the depth and breadth of one of the illest producers operating across the many spheres of club music with a distinct “you ‘kay?” slant.

From the moment the low-end pressure and loaded samples rear their heads on the opening track, Zak Brashill demonstrates his intent to sculpt Scream Of The Butterfly as a proper album — an end-to-end listening experience full of peaks and troughs which focus on sonic storytelling much more than club functionality. Throughout his imperious output to date, the man like Etch has displayed an affinity for sound design to match his instinct for what bangs on the spectrum of dubstep, garage, jungle and hip-hop, but now he’s gone postal on soundworld-building, with a grip of heavyweights drafted in to help set the scene.

Fellow Sneaker alumnus J-Shadow lends his maverick footwork science to ‘Star Fallen’, while UK rap anti-royalty Lee Scott brings his unmistakable Runcorn drawl to dusky head-nodder ‘Not Surprised’. UK bass-synth-ambient enigma E.M.M.A drops in for the moody, meandering midpoint ‘Stepford Lives’, and Killa P and Emz deliver blazing bars to the double dose of ‘Prayer Wheel (Left You Fi Dead)’ and ‘Heat Map’ respectively.

Elsewhere Brashill follows his own razor-sharp instincts into warping stop-start drum science, widescreen downtempo with teeth, seasick synth studies, moody-but-cosy 140 and lots more besides. Nothing comes as standard, but Scream of the Butterfly is ruff when it wants to be, subtle and spacious if the vibe demands it, and consistently packed full of the detail and intrigue that we’ve come to expect from one of the most inventive and reliably sick producers in the contemporary bassweight firmament.

Glockoma 2 is the third studio album from Memphis rapper Key Glock, and follow-up to the wildly successful mixtape, Glockoma. The deluxe physical release sees the addition of 8 new tracks, and includes 3 singles released shortly after the digital deluxe release. As we’ve grown accustomed to with Key Glock’s solo albums, Glockoma 2 features all material written and performed by Key Glock, and only Key Glock. Standout tracks from the album include “Work,” “Dirt,” “Chromosomes,” “Presidential Rolex,” & the explosive single, “Let’s Go,” which saw its own moment of virality upon its cinematic music video release and was recently Certified Gold by the RIAA. The 2xLP deluxe vinyl release is pressed on Cobalt marbled vinyl with Red Splatter, and housed in a gatefold jacket with poly-lined sleeves.

*Re-release of Holy Fuck’s 5th album originally released in 2020, now on clear vinyl limited to 500 copies*
Holy Fuck have today announced details of new album 'Deleter', which will be released on January 17th and is further previewed with the video for acclaimed latest single 'Luxe' (ft. Alexis Taylor). Having just concluded a US tour alongside Hot Chip, the seminal Canadian band will play a selection of European headline dates later this month (with a London show at Moth Club on October 23rd selling out immediately).

Arriving at a moment where attention spans are shot and anxieties are going into overdrive, 'Deleter', Holy Fuck’s fifth studio LP, is a defiantly full-bodied affair. Polyrhythmic and pleasure- focused, 'Deleter' sees Brian Borcherdt, Graham Walsh, Matt Schulz, and Matt “Punchy” McQuaid utilises their signature sound - seamlessly fusing the gauzy drive of krautrock and deep house’s dreamy ineffability, expertly blending purring motorik percussion with the sort of fuggy synthetic fizz and tang they are renowned for.

From the thrusting minimalism of opener ‘Luxe’ through to the triumphant chug of closing track ‘Ruby’, via club-ready rollocker ‘Free Gloss’ and the cosmic clatter of ‘San Sebastian’, Deleter is a record that joins the Holy Fuck dots within their widescreen, technicolour, crescendo- heavy sound.

With Fuck, Marry, Kill, Tink delivers her most provocative and conceptually sharp body of work to date, firmly reclaiming her position as a premier storyteller in the modern R&B landscape. Moving beyond the diary-entry style of her earlier years, this project utilizes the titular game as a brutal yet honest framework for the complexities of modern intimacy. Tink navigates the chaos of the dating world with a dual-threat precision that few can match, seamlessly blending the grit of her Chicago rap roots with the velvet textures of contemporary soul. Under the executive production of Hitmaka, the album finds its heartbeat in the friction between high-gloss production and raw, unfiltered lyricism.

The album is meticulously structured to mirror the chaotic cycle of urban romance: the adrenaline of fleeting lust, the heavy stakes of long-term commitment, and the inevitable coldness of a bridge burned. In the "Fuck" segment, Tink radiates a lethal confidence, delivering anthems of autonomy and physical desire that demand space in the club and on the charts. As the project transitions into "Marry," she peels back the armor, offering a vulnerable look at the desire for stability and the terrifying leap of faith required to trust a partner. However, it is in the "Kill" section where Tink’s songwriting truly bites; here, she chronicles the aftermath of betrayal and the empowerment that comes from cutting ties, transforming her heartbreak into a weapon of self-preservation.

Ultimately, Fuck, Marry, Kill is a masterclass in "Toxic R&B" that refuses to settle for easy answers. Tink captures the specific anxiety of a generation trying to distinguish between a temporary thrill and a permanent soulmate, all while navigating a world of ghosting and digital infidelity. By leaning into her flaws and her triumphs with equal intensity, she creates a sonic space where listeners feel both seen and vindicated. This isn't just an album about love—it's a survival guide for the heart, narrated by an artist who has seen every side of the game and lived to write the definitive soundtrack for it.

Unearthed from the original DAT at Strange Weather Studios in South London, Get Fucked's Unearthed Stash traces a chronological journey through the legendary group's earliest recording sessions, from the raw chaos of their 1999 debut album to the more refined dub house explorations that led into their second LP.

Sourced from the best surviving master DATs this collection brings together remastered classics, lost versions and previously unreleased edits, offering unfiltered look into one of the UK underground's most fearless creative period.

Each track has been carefully remastered to preserve the saturated punch, tape grit and raw energy of the original sessions, while expanding definition for modern sound systems.

Pressed on 180g heavyweight black vinyl, Unearthed Stash is strictly for collectors and true heads preserving the energy and attitude that made Get Fucked pioneers of the London underground sound. A raw document of a lost era, revived.

Archival Gold. From The Source. Unearthed at Last.

XDCVR_ unveils 'I HATE THAT SHIT, I HATE ALL THAT SHIT' a blistering sonic manifesto on the 'performativity of decay'.

In a world saturated with digital perfection, the album emerges as a vital, hand-made act of electronic rebellion.

Framed as a "soundtrack for the end stretch" the record explores the notion that societal decay is not a passive process, but an active performance—a machine chugging along long after its wheels have fallen off.

This is cyborg music for a bifurcated reality: carbon-fiber toughness shielding a core of systemic rot. The sound palette is intentionally raw and imperfect, a direct challenge to the sterile, automated order of what the artist calls the "techno-fascist oligarchy."

Tracks eschew conventional temporality, mirroring the feeling of existing in two concurrent timelines—one hyper-aware of the collapse, the other numbly consuming it.

Drawing a line from the Cold War anxieties of the past to the data-farming dystopia of the present, 'I HATE THAT SHIT…' posits art as the last authentic incubator for societal change. It is, in the artist's words, "a deliberate 'fuck you' to the oppressive order of the status quo. This is not easy listening; it is a contested space, a lit fuse, and a necessary noise for our complicated times."

Celebrating 20 years of Frank Turner’s solo debut EP ‘Campfire Punkrock’, Xtra Mile Recordings are excited to release a special anniversary extended edition of the seminal release. Featuring the original EP with two added songs (The Real Damage and The Ballad Of Me & My Friends, both of which were included on the US version in 2007), plus 7 further live tracks recorded from Frank’s 50th solo gig in London 2006 - taking listeners right back to where it all began at the very early days of Frank’s incredible solo career. The 12” LP features new reworked artwork with shiny gold campfire on matt black cover plus coloured vinyl.

The original EP was recorded by Frank's guitarist Ben Lloyd at the Oxford home of Turner's bass player Tarrant Anderson and mixed by Tristan Ivemy. If features fan favourites ‘Nashville Tennessee’, ‘The Real Damage’ and ‘Ballad Of Me And My Friends’. Throughout April, Frank will tour UK performing tracks from Campfire Punkrock and the early years of his solo career. All dates are sold out including two nights at London’s Scala.

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

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

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

Debut solo album from DC polymath Jack Abok. When not making zines and visual art, singing for Des Demonas' or drumming AND singing for SEXFACES, Abok's busied himself by bringing this, his most personal and ferousious vision, to (immortal) life with VAMPYRES FROM AFRICA. 11 tracks of electro punk, melding Abok's massive love for the delta blues, post punk, Krautrock and hip hop. Or, in his own words: VAMPYRES FROM AFRICA MANIFESTО: 1. Ideas > skill 2. Don't be a musician 3. Cool > smart 4. It's not about money or being liked, it's about expressing ourselves. 5. Bands should have an expiration date 6. Fuck originality! 7. Don't stop creating And Syd's Angelika Piper at the Gates of Dawn: "All movements is accomplished in six stages And the seventh brings return The seven is the number of the young light It forms when darkness is increased by one Changel return / success Going and coming without error Action brings good fortune Sunset"

Erstpressung ausverkauft, Nachpressung (schwarzes Vinyl und neue Farbe) wegen großer Nachfrage! Das schwedische Punkrock-Urgestein SATOR veröffentlicht mit den High (Rock'n) Rollern und Punkrockern THE HEADLINES eine Split EP: Eine längst fällige Herzens- und Freundschaftsangelegenheit! Schließlich war es Sator-Bandgründer Chips Kiesbye, der vor mehr als 15 Jahren das musikalische Potential und die wilde, ungestüme Power von The Headlines erkannte. Es folgten Supportshows und bis heute produziert und supportet Chips die Band im Studio. Die jeweils zwei exklusiven Songs der Bands auf der limitierten 10inch Vinyl spannen dabei den Bogen von Hard Rock, Sleaze, Glam bis straight forward Punkrock. The Headlines kehren mit "Fucked up" zu der klassischen Rock-Essence zurück, rotzig-frech verpackt in 2 Minuten mit allem was es braucht, um eine "fuckin great hymn" zu schreiben! "True Grit" - der zweite Song" orientiert sich mit melodischen Punkrock an den US-Westcoast Style: "Remember what you're fighting for!" The Headlines liebten es schon immer Gedanken über das Leben, die jeder kennt in griffige Rocksongs zu verpacken. SATOR präsentieren mit "Thanks (For nothing for all) einen vor langer Zeit geschriebenen wütenden Dampfhammer, der als Demo in den Bandarchiven irgendwie in Vergessenheit geriet. Während der Aufnahmen zu "Return of The Barbie-Q-Killers" stoplerte die Band über dieses Juwel und wurde neu aufgenommen. "Wir können uns nicht wirklich erinnern, worüber wir beim Schreiben wütend waren, aber es gibt immer etwas, das einen nervt. Wut ist nie aus der Mode." "I only want a date" wurde ebenfalls im Rahmen der Studio-Sessions für das letzte Sator-Album aufgenommen und ist ein Coversong der US-Band "The Embarrassment", die den gesuchten Song 1984 nur auf Tape veröffentlichten. Die 10inch EP erscheint streng limitiert in klassisch schwarzen oder blauen oder in limitierten zweifarbigen Swirl Vinyl und dürfte sich schnell als Sammlerstück etablieren. Swedish Alternative Rock at its best!

Doppel-LP auf Galaxy Opaque Vinyl im vollfarbigen Sleeve mit bedruckter Innenhülle

Unearthed from the tropical pressure of Paraguay’s underground scene. Solo EP debut from Notorious Club Condesa resident: Chavi — Unreleased Data, out now on Pampanam Records. Club-approved and heat-tested, with early support from global selectors. Composed and arranged in Asuncion. Mastered by Analogcut.

Das schwedische Punkrock-Urgestein SATOR veröffentlicht mit den High (Rock'n) Rollern und Punkrockern THE HEADLINES eine Split EP: Eine längst fällige Herzens- und Freundschaftsangelegenheit! Schließlich war es Sator-Bandgründer Chips Kiesbye, der vor mehr als 15 Jahren das musikalische Potential und die wilde, ungestüme Power von The Headlines erkannte. Es folgten Supportshows und bis heute produziert und supportet Chips die Band im Studio. Die jeweils zwei exklusiven Songs der Bands auf der limitierten 10inch Vinyl spannen dabei den Bogen von Hard Rock, Sleaze, Glam bis straight forward Punkrock. The Headlines kehren mit "Fucked up" zu der klassischen Rock-Essence zurück, rotzig-frech verpackt in 2 Minuten mit allem was es braucht, um eine "fuckin great hymn" zu schreiben! "True Grit" - der zweite Song" orientiert sich mit melodischen Punkrock an den US-Westcoast Style: "Remember what you're fighting for!" The Headlines liebten es schon immer Gedanken über das Leben, die jeder kennt in griffige Rocksongs zu verpacken. SATOR präsentieren mit "Thanks (For nothing for all) einen vor langer Zeit geschriebenen wütenden Dampfhammer, der als Demo in den Bandarchiven irgendwie in Vergessenheit geriet. Während der Aufnahmen zu "Return of The Barbie-Q-Killers" stoplerte die Band über dieses Juwel und wurde neu aufgenommen. "Wir können uns nicht wirklich erinnern, worüber wir beim Schreiben wütend waren, aber es gibt immer etwas, das einen nervt. Wut ist nie aus der Mode." "I only want a date" wurde ebenfalls im Rahmen der Studio-Sessions für das letzte Sator-Album aufgenommen und ist ein Coversong der US-Band "The Embarrassment", die den gesuchten Song 1984 nur auf Tape veröffentlichten. Die 10inch EP erscheint streng limitiert in klassisch schwarzen oder blauen oder in limitierten zweifarbigen Swirl Vinyl und dürfte sich schnell als Sammlerstück etablieren. Swedish Alternative Rock at its best!

Das schwedische Punkrock-Urgestein SATOR veröffentlicht mit den High (Rock'n) Rollern und Punkrockern THE HEADLINES eine Split EP: Eine längst fällige Herzens- und Freundschaftsangelegenheit! Schließlich war es Sator-Bandgründer Chips Kiesbye, der vor mehr als 15 Jahren das musikalische Potential und die wilde, ungestüme Power von The Headlines erkannte. Es folgten Supportshows und bis heute produziert und supportet Chips die Band im Studio. Die jeweils zwei exklusiven Songs der Bands auf der limitierten 10inch Vinyl spannen dabei den Bogen von Hard Rock, Sleaze, Glam bis straight forward Punkrock. The Headlines kehren mit "Fucked up" zu der klassischen Rock-Essence zurück, rotzig-frech verpackt in 2 Minuten mit allem was es braucht, um eine "fuckin great hymn" zu schreiben! "True Grit" - der zweite Song" orientiert sich mit melodischen Punkrock an den US-Westcoast Style: "Remember what you're fighting for!" The Headlines liebten es schon immer Gedanken über das Leben, die jeder kennt in griffige Rocksongs zu verpacken. SATOR präsentieren mit "Thanks (For nothing for all) einen vor langer Zeit geschriebenen wütenden Dampfhammer, der als Demo in den Bandarchiven irgendwie in Vergessenheit geriet. Während der Aufnahmen zu "Return of The Barbie-Q-Killers" stoplerte die Band über dieses Juwel und wurde neu aufgenommen. "Wir können uns nicht wirklich erinnern, worüber wir beim Schreiben wütend waren, aber es gibt immer etwas, das einen nervt. Wut ist nie aus der Mode." "I only want a date" wurde ebenfalls im Rahmen der Studio-Sessions für das letzte Sator-Album aufgenommen und ist ein Coversong der US-Band "The Embarrassment", die den gesuchten Song 1984 nur auf Tape veröffentlichten. Die 10inch EP erscheint streng limitiert in klassisch schwarzen oder blauen oder in limitierten zweifarbigen Swirl Vinyl und dürfte sich schnell als Sammlerstück etablieren. Swedish Alternative Rock at its best!

Das schwedische Punkrock-Urgestein SATOR veröffentlicht mit den High (Rock'n) Rollern und Punkrockern THE HEADLINES eine Split EP: Eine längst fällige Herzens- und Freundschaftsangelegenheit! Schließlich war es Sator-Bandgründer Chips Kiesbye, der vor mehr als 15 Jahren das musikalische Potential und die wilde, ungestüme Power von The Headlines erkannte. Es folgten Supportshows und bis heute produziert und supportet Chips die Band im Studio. Die jeweils zwei exklusiven Songs der Bands auf der limitierten 10inch Vinyl spannen dabei den Bogen von Hard Rock, Sleaze, Glam bis straight forward Punkrock. The Headlines kehren mit "Fucked up" zu der klassischen Rock-Essence zurück, rotzig-frech verpackt in 2 Minuten mit allem was es braucht, um eine "fuckin great hymn" zu schreiben! "True Grit" - der zweite Song" orientiert sich mit melodischen Punkrock an den US-Westcoast Style: "Remember what you're fighting for!" The Headlines liebten es schon immer Gedanken über das Leben, die jeder kennt in griffige Rocksongs zu verpacken. SATOR präsentieren mit "Thanks (For nothing for all) einen vor langer Zeit geschriebenen wütenden Dampfhammer, der als Demo in den Bandarchiven irgendwie in Vergessenheit geriet. Während der Aufnahmen zu "Return of The Barbie-Q-Killers" stoplerte die Band über dieses Juwel und wurde neu aufgenommen. "Wir können uns nicht wirklich erinnern, worüber wir beim Schreiben wütend waren, aber es gibt immer etwas, das einen nervt. Wut ist nie aus der Mode." "I only want a date" wurde ebenfalls im Rahmen der Studio-Sessions für das letzte Sator-Album aufgenommen und ist ein Coversong der US-Band "The Embarrassment", die den gesuchten Song 1984 nur auf Tape veröffentlichten. Die 10inch EP erscheint streng limitiert in klassisch schwarzen oder blauen oder in limitierten zweifarbigen Swirl Vinyl und dürfte sich schnell als Sammlerstück etablieren. Swedish Alternative Rock at its best!

Machine Girl haben sich stets als eigenständiges und kreatives Klangphänomen gezeigt. Das Trio, bestehend aus Matt Stephenson, Sean Kelly und Lucy Caputi, verbindet eine punkbasierte Grundlage mit elektronischen Elementen und cineastischem Anspruch. Rave, Metal, Punk und elektronische Klänge treffen aufeinander und ergeben ein facettenreiches, energiegeladenes Soundbild. Mit einer stetig wachsenden Fangemeinde sowie lobender Besprechungen führt die Band ihren Weg mit ihrem siebten Studioalbum Psycho Warrior (MG Ultra X) konsequent fort.

2xLP schwarzes Vinyl im vollfarbigen Sleeve mit bedruckter Innenhülle

Born in the sewers of Montreal in 2018, it all started with a simple goal : blending old fashioned death metal and modern hardcore together in a city where technical death metal reigns supreme. It didn't take long for the band to make a name in the underground tho. Fast, old school riffs, pummeling mosh parts mixed with energetic stage presence quickly earned ST attraction, especially in the hardcore scene. Initially formed by tattoo artist Vincent PL on vocals and axeman Philippe Leblanc, ST has now its hardest lineup to date by adding Miguel Lepage (ex- Blind Witness, ex- Obey the Brave) on bass and Émile Savard (Profane Order, ex- Malebranche) on drums, turning the band from another local act into an absolute fucking weapon. The time has come to follow the path of Cryptopsy, Quo Vadis and Despised Icon and show the world that Montreal is still to this day a reckless, unrelenting force of death metal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Red Laser Records switches on the smoke machine and strobe light, dishes out the high grade poppers and continues with the most unprofessional approach in the biz as they celebrate their FIFTIETH fuckin' release - a double disc photon torpedo diving into the label's roster and featuring all new tracks from RL stalwarts across the ages.

Marking this half century milestone, their in-house graphics team have been on a strict diet of kryptonite and engine oil, conjuring up one of the most lavish (and budget destroying) gatefold sleeves to date; alongside personal insights (and an in-depth cigar review) on their 13 year journey from label heads Il Bosco and Pharaoh Brunson.

Eight, sizzling, white hot MANCTALO jams that'll have knickers dropped, shirts lifted, fists pumping and your room stinking of fried circuit boards quicker than you can say #inabiteveryoneelse.

From the frayed loop of San Diego's white belt `90s scene, Boilermaker provided a subtle counterpoint to the Gravityobsessed post-hardcore landscape. They called it Leucadia-core, a hybrid of major chord riffs, emotive yelps, angular bass chug, and pounding rhythms, building and releasing with the Swami tides. NotEnough Time To Get Anything Halfway Done compiles the trio of Terrin Durfey, Tim Semple, and Richard Sanderson complete discography_three albums, singles, and rarities_into a 41-song/ 4xLP box set, with annotation and illustration in the accompanying 24-page book. Surfs down. Hang zero.

From the frayed loop of San Diego's white belt `90s scene, Boilermaker provided a subtle counterpoint to the Gravityobsessed post-hardcore landscape. They called it Leucadia-core, a hybrid of major chord riffs, emotive yelps, angular bass chug, and pounding rhythms, building and releasing with the Swami tides. NotEnough Time To Get Anything Halfway Done compiles the trio of Terrin Durfey, Tim Semple, and Richard Sanderson complete discography_three albums, singles, and rarities_into a 41-song/ 4xLP box set, with annotation and illustration in the accompanying 24-page book. Surfs down. Hang zero.

Laurant Webb, Dave Coker, Justin Bailey and Dave Pine were the driving forces behind Strange Weather Studios. Based in Southeast London, the studio served as a creative hub, playing a pivotal role in shaping the sound of a groundbreaking genre. Alongside close friends and collaborators, they produced a series of influential records that have left an indelible mark on the music landscape.

This release is a heartfelt tribute to Strange Weather Studios and the talented individuals who brought its magic to life. It also honours the studio’s production partners though iconic projects such as Housey Doingz, 7th Voyage, Space Bunny, Get Fucked and Green Eyed Monster. These projects that were instrumental in forging the signature, original London Tech House sound.

The tracks on this record have been handpicked by Laurant Webb and Yossi Amoyal, meticulously restored and remastered from the rare original DATs.

This release marks a significant milestone for London Tech House, symbolising a collaboration between its key pioneers and a label that evolved alongside the genre. It’s an organic partnership that celebrates the past and looks towards the future. A project we’re incredibly proud to share with you

Ghost Alive was the sixth album released by the Boxer Rebellion and is reissued on limited coloured vinyl pressing as part of a reissue series across their entire album catalogue.

An album born of hope through heartache, ‘Ghost Alive’ is the band’s most personal and human record to date. Exploring the darker corners of love, loss, and grief while shining a light on shared human experience, the album leans on the London four-piece’s more cinematic elements for a gloriously widescreen journey. Stripping away any excess, this album showcases the bare bones of opulent songwriting that lays at the core of The Boxer Rebellion. Rather than being crushed under the weight of melancholia, ‘Ghost Alive’ is 11 tracks that breathe with an understanding and experience. Bracingly vulnerable and achingly real, it’s a tender triumph from a band whose prime shows no signs of fading.

The band now have an eponymous EP, six studio albums, Exits (2005), Union (2009), The Cold Still (2011), Promises (2013), Ocean by Ocean (2016) and Ghost Alive (2018), as well as a compilation album, B-Sides & Rarities Collection, Vol. 1 & 2 (2012).

Kinda Busy 04 Fourth release for Kinda Busy featuring Blumet with Sin23 and Protokick in a super Tekno Tribe mission.
Side A starts with Pain is Gain a fresh new banger from Blumet at 167bpm smashing samples from an old Dead Prez tune and another Hip Hop classic!! Spot the samples! Banging pumping tribe with chopped samples properly mashed up and a solid synth reef on the second part of the track, to make you trip along with the rythm ! Funny surprise on the outro, Fuck Meloni !
A2 features The Amulet, a massive track from the infamous Protokick at 163bpm. Classic smashing kick in his style with very hypnotic synths and effects with a crispy and trancy voice to the end, can't miss this papa !!
The flip belongs to the new scene talent by now resident on the label since Kinda Busy 03, Sin23.
B1 with Engine Overload is a trippy and stompy pumping Tribe at 165bpm, brillant to mix with Aku Sound from Kinda Busy 03 ! Crunchy and clean sounds delivered here with a pro sound design that will exceed expectations !
B2 is the place for Tek in Trance at 163bpm. This is a more dated track from Sin23, yet well acclaimed and validated by his fans ! He likes to blend different styles and sounds, bringing that trance feeling on the percussions of the pumping Tribe. Top tune !!
Do not miss this release !!

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

Reissue of the Philadelphia group"s gritty psychedelic milestone, "Set And Setting" from 1999. The songs on Bardo Pond"s first two Matador releases - "Amanita" and "Lapsed" - were largely worked up at home and then recorded on the clock at a professional studio. On "Set and Setting," the band chose to work out of its home base, Lemur House, and the end result benefited from the open-ended DIY flexibility. "It was closer to the heart of what we do," says guitarist Michael Gibbons. "There was more improvisation, but also more culling of material. We had more time to find things that jumped out at us, go places we wouldn"t normally go, do investigative work. I think there was a shift. It"s just somehow a more true experience of Bardo Pond."

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

Phantastic Ferniture, the delightfully lightheaded project of Julia
Jacklin, Elizabeth Hughes, Ryan K Brennan and Tom Stephens,
release their self-titled debut album via Transgressive Records.
The mission is obvious: don't overthink it. These artists' shared
want to shake the shackles of their meticulously crafted solo
work to experience a second, giddy adolescence is evident in
the garage-pop perfection introduced today.
I'd gone straight into folk music,' says Jacklin, 'so every
experience I'd had on stage was playing sad music with a
guitar in my hand. I thought, I would love to know what it's like
to make people feel good and dance.'
Phantastic Ferniture's spiritual home may be the garage but
they were born in a bar, specifically the hallowed basement of
Frankie's Pizza in Sydney. One late night in 2014, on Jacklin's
birthday, a group hug manifested amid the pinball machines,
with all ten participants vowing to form a band. 'Only four of us
remembered the next day,' notes Hughes.
United by fern puns and a love of leisurewear, the band met up
whenever schedules would allow, writing songs and playing
smatterings of dates to an increasingly devoted audience.
Eventually it was decreed that this was no side project and an
album should follow. The result is one of the most enjoyable
albums of 2018. 'It feels really good,' Jacklin says with
satisfaction. 'It's like having an alter ego.'
A slice of defiant brilliance that feels effortless in its
execution.' - London In Stereo
LP pressed on pink vinyl with digital download code.
Press - Reviews in Clash, DIY, Q , Loud & Quiet, The Skinny. Radio - 6Music Lauren Laverne Track Of The Day
Online - DIY, Too Many Blogs, Most Radicalist, Giglist, London In
Stereo, Loud and Quiet, The Skinny, God Is In The TV Zine.

Warning French content! RIXE is back with a four track EP, their most French material to date. Keeping
one boot firmly in the CAMERA SILENS/ WARRIOR KIDS camp while the other one dances around METAL
URBAIN, KARNAGE, BUTCHER or even D-STOP and MOPO MOGO, creating an unlike threesome of
fuckwave, OI! And pop music as infectious as their previous four EPs.