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2024 Repress

The fifth release on Pleistocene Future is a powerful 4 tracker 12inch by ARKVS.

wieder lieferbar Wer ist Angela Aux, die mit langen blonden Haaren, Bart und sanften Songs am Rande des Nervenzusammenbruchs die Münchner Szene mit einer Eigenwilligkeit bezirzt, der man sich schwer entziehen kann? Süddeutsche Zeitung Das ist die Geschichte eines unwahrscheinlichen Tonträgers mit einem unwahrscheinlichen Cover. Und sie beginnt am Meer. Am Atlantik genauer, der kühl flirrt und von dessen Wellenkämmen es im Gegenlicht neoprenschwarze Silhouetten in die Gischt spült. "Easy Tunas", Etüden im Fallenlassen. Sommer 2020. Kurzer Logout vom Lockdown. Hier am Meer in Südfrankreich blödeln Florian Kreier (Angela Aux, Aloa Input) und Leo Hopfinger (Das Hobos) mit Gitarren in jener verdröhnten Surfcamp-Melancholie aus Salz, Gras und Abendsonne. Eine Woche Künstler-Residency am Ozean. Ein Konzert, viel Freizeit. 28 Songs nehmen die beiden in diesen Tagen auf. 28 Songs, ohne Auftrag in den Sand gejammt. Ein Soundtrack der Sorglosigkeit, der später - völlig unerwartet -zu musikalischer Hyaluronsäure mutiert . Als Straffungsmittel in der Sorgenfaltenzeit. Aber der Reihe nach: "Es gibt Dinge" taufen die zwei diesen, am Ende auf elf Stücke kondensierten Surfcamp-Impressionismus. Die Songs - zart hingetupfte Fantasien über diese südfranzösische Surfer-Parallelwelt. Über die "Wanna be hippies", die "Fishermen", das "Surfer Girl". Aber natürlich ist das kein Surf-Album. Die Wellenreiterhofidylle ist nur Ausgangspunkt für Exkursionen, die explizit das finden wollen, wonach sie nicht suchen.

"Enjoy The Ride Records proudly presents Closure In Moscow - Pink Lemonade. In celebration of the album's 10th Anniversary, we are thrilled to have pressed the first domestic vinyl release!

Housed in a gatefold jacket, there are two colorful variants for Pink Lemonade. The pressing is limited to 500 copies."

Following on from his previous two KPM-esque library music releases for the label (Plastic Thought & Wyped Out) Debossed sees Howe ramping up his sound into more rhythmically expansive weirdo club-music territory, taking in everything from footwork, drum & bass, electro, juke and breakcore. The Japanese jazz inspired melodic phrasing is as present as ever, which is paired with affectionate nods to Dreamcast gaming & skate video soundtracks, making for a very fun, fresh and generous listen.

“A master of tricksy computer music.” - The Wire

“The return of Glasweigian, Joe Howe: a prolific noise maker who you may have otherwise known as Ben Butler & Mousepad & Germlin. He’s been doing wonderful things for many years and there’s a whole world of Joe Howe if you want to get involved!”. - Tom Ravenscroft (BBC 6 Music)

After the not-quite-reissue of 'Prince of Parrot Shooters/The Aqueducts of Cannel Island', wide-eyed mystic and tireless searcher of the netherworld Spencer Clark returns to the Discrepant fold with 'Barbados Wild Horses' under his Mo-nopoly Child Star Searchers moniker. Recorded while Clark was living in the Canary Island's by Tupperware and Lagoss' Dani Tupper, 'Barbados Wild Horses' brims with insular romanticism and escapist bliss, with sunkissed synth-lines interwoven around his trademark hand percussion bouncy rhythms reflecting the scenery of the islands as a lib-erating utopia.

With track titles taking an almost self explanatory stance, the album starts with the crepuscular vibes of 'Upper Roman-tico', a poetic meditation on the lovelorn potential of the fading sunlight, setting the tone for the rest of the tour. 'Lava Tube Solos on Horseback', the first of two tracks featuring Sun Araw's Cameron Stallones, sees the latter's guitar noo-dles riding the cascading rhythms and digital choir harmonies while in 'Neopreno Antiguo' he solos freely around an hypnotic synth line. Finishing off the escapade, 'Nightcharcos Punta Brava' drifts in ethereal starlit contemplation, with the percussion taking a more backseat approach, setting into a steady pulse for Clark's gliding synth tapestries. Nightswimming as transcendence. Another piece of the fascinating puzzle Clark's been assembling for over two dec-ades now, 'Barbados Wild Horses' glimmers with a laid back sensibility that's as unhinged as enveloping. Not an easy feat by any measure. Clark succeeds again.

Antonin Appaix's songs oscillate between pop, acoustic experimentation and electronic ballads. After "???????????", his first EP released in April 2020 on Cracki Records, the singer from Marseilles returns with "????????".

A debut album of soft, hybrid, organic and strange productions, somewhere between Miel de Montagne, Domenique Dumont and Sébastien Tellier, evoking childhood, friendship, adventure, the intoxication of the deep and the wounds of the heart.

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

Yellow and black splatter

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.