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"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."

"World of Pooh immensely brightened the dark corners of San Francisco, California during the years 1983-1990, with their most recognized guise being the MMF trio that existed & thrived during the years 1986-1990. This is the lineup you’ll hear documented on this exceptional collection of 45s, compilation tracks and assorted ephemera. The band has ranged from being a footnote for some (“is that the band Barbara Manning was once in?”) to a fondly-regarded memory for others (“the Land of Thirst album is a forgotten classic”) to a turnstile, door-opening band for still others — like me. They arrived in my life as they were slowly exiting theirs, and I eagerly attended a half-dozen shows of theirs circa 1989-90 around San Francisco moments after I moved there. They were instantly my favorite local band, one I was instantly duty-bound to see whenever & wherever they played. Their jagged and discombobulated take on underground pop music was exceptionally fertile, feral and fetching, and it served as a personal gateway drug that flowered my own appreciation for many different kinds of subtle musical tension.
I also spent at least five glorious years watching Jay Paget, who drummed for World of Pooh and later the Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, ply his rhythmic trade with much aplomb. He was always a steady hand behind the musical wheel of innovative bands who often threatened to careen off course. And I’ll admit to an untoward admiration of (and fascination with) World of Pooh founder, guitarist and singer Brandan Kearney from the moment I met the guy. Not only was he exceptionally friendly and welcoming to a carpetbagging interloper quickly trying to horn in on his scene (me), he was at once one of the most quick-witted, self-deprecating, highly intelligent & musically conversant people I’d ever met. Everything he and his band were doing, along with the mind-boggling DIY gunk he was pushing through his record label, Nuf Sed, and via his multiple other bands (among them: Caroliner & Archipelago Brewing Company, with several more to follow), made me extremely curious and not a tiny bit jealous about these wiser, weirder and musically more daring freaks who were making art, love & war in the relatively grittier & non-gentrified San Francisco of the day.
What I’ve learned in the 35 years since the band broke up is just how highly regarded they were (and remain) by not only those who saw them, but by a now-considerably larger group of humans who’ve subsequently heard & loved their records. I know that their place in the late 1980s was a small but special one, and I’ve seen plenty of online clamoring for more, more, more about this ephemeral and poorly-documented band. And rightly, here it is, lovingly assembled: their two hard-to-come-by 45s, a handful of comp tracks, and a quartet of phenomenal songs just coming to light for the first time, including that Half Japanese cover that dimly existed in my memory as a live song they naturally pulled off with sangfroid, from a time and space when we were all a little younger. - Jay Hinman"

Named after a (US) West Coast grocery store chain, The Whitefronts started out in 1982 as a quartet of art and theater students attending UCSB. The band quickly mutated into a sextet. In 1984, they moved north to establish themselves as part of the SF DIY culture. Live shows usually consisted of open jams drawing from what the band was obsessing about at the time—free jazz, The Velvet Underground, Caribbean music, improv noise—as well as their own unheralded genres that popped in and out of existence like subatomic particles. Shows with local bands like Slovenly, Camper Van Beethoven, Caroliner Rainbow, Vomit Launch, Barnacle Choir and Barbara Manning provide some context as to their eccentric position within the indie scene of the era.

In 1985, the band released their sole LP, Roast Belief, on their own Bogden label. This was an ambitious attempt to document the various ideas that were happening live. Though practically unknown today, it’s an extraordinary record—a mid-80s classic serving up eclectic derangement on a par with contemporaries like the Butthole Surfers, Meat Puppets, Sun City Girls, Tuxedomoon and Eugene Chadbourne.
The Mamo Waves LP was compiled from recordings made between 1982-1987. As with Roast Belief LP, it’s a mind-melting jumble of the genres explored by Whitefronts throughout their existence. It was originally supposed to be released by Camper Van’s Pitch-A-Tent imprint, as a couple of WF members were touring with CBV in 1987, but the release fell through the cracks when CBV was airlifted to Virgin Records in 1988. Today, it’s clear that Mamo Waves belongs to the same 1980s Californian sub-underground aesthetic that nurtured mythical 80s bands like Departmentstore Santas and Prominent Disturbance. It’s a real WTF m.o. that still sounds like the future.

Live At Robert Johnson proudly presents the new »Holographic Witness« EP by Niall Mannion aka Mano le Tough!

Please enjoy four very special tracks made by experienced Irishman Mannion near beautiful Lake Zurich. Four tracks to jump into like Zurich folks jump into the Limmat to get carried away. Now here's YOUR chance to get carried away too!

Let's start with the hypnotic grooves of »Holographic Witness« with its subtle handclaps and percussions turning this bass-line driven monster to further heights - a bass-line quite reminiscent of that special Miami sound made famous by the Murk guys back in the early 90ies. Add some balearic guitar riffings and wait until that mighty bass drum comes back in after 6 minutes and you'll find yourself dreaming on a dancefloor in heaven.

Niall continues with more pounding drum sounds in next tune »Kakooja«. Stabbing synths sounds dominate this track while Niall manages to create another dreamy vibe again for this monotonous (in a very positive way that is) work of art - a dreamy vibe which can be found on any of Niall's EP's tracks. This leads us directly to »Last Floating Figh, Liufe Floating« where Mr. Mannion floats into much quieter shores. It's a very meditative affair which makes you want to listen to it over and over again once the tune comes to an end. We think that Señor Villalobos might unleash this one very soon onto some European dancefloor … don't you think?

On »Weather Master«, this EP's last track, Niall masters the art of trippy sounds for a fourth time building another dreamy hypnotic groove that is just beautiful. Maybe too beautiful for this world … we don't know, but what do we know? We're fans. Fans of Mano Le Tough who does not seem so tough at all considering his first offering for Live At Robert Johnson.

Maybe you should consider becoming a fan too - in case you aren't already …

Sláinte, Niall! We raise our glasses respectfully!