quête:people in the news

Killer 2 sider deepfunk classic from Indiana's very obscure Knap Town Records. Whilst 'Color Me' is the more "well known" track on the rare 45s scene i mostly play the instrumental flip 'Misty Shade Of Pink', the whole 45 has a cool loose psychey barnstorming vibe that just works. 500 Copies only no repress.

Eno Williams, frontwoman of Ibibio Sound Machine, uses both English and the Nigerian language from which her band's name is derived for the dazzling new album Doko Mien. Long lauded for jubilant, explosive live shows, Ibibio Sound Machine fully capture that energy on Doko Mien, the followup to their Merge debut Uyai.
In a glowing piece in the New York Times, those songs were praised for following 'in the tradition of much African music, [making] themselves the conscience of a community.' By pulsing the mystic shapes of Williams' lines through further inventive, glittering collages of genre, Ibibio Sound Machine crack apart the horizon separating cultures, between nature and technology, between joy and pain, between tradition and future. That propensity for duality and paradox seems common in people whose lives span continents.

Williams was born in the UK, but grew up in Nigeria, always steeped in her family heritage. She obsessed over West African electronic music, highlife, and the like, but was equally empowered by Western genres such as post-punk, disco, and funk. The London octet have enveloped themselves in that maximalist quilt proudly since their 2013 formation. Though it can often bring with it news of stress and uncertainty, the modern world further brings all these disparate traditions into connection.
'Everyone has everything now,' says multi-instrumentalist Max Grunhard. 'Everyone has immediate access to every genre, picking things up from everywhere—like magpies.' And while they haven't suddenly left their African roots behind, Doko Mien does find increased representation of English lyrics in the ratio. By sharing more directly with more universal lyrics, the record feels more anthemic, reaching for grander heights.
'We wanted to give people a reason to sing along, to find their soundtrack every day,' Williams says. 'We wanted everyone to feel as if they're part of the music as well.'

Late album highlight 'Guess We Found a Way' addresses the change with a coy smile. 'Guess we found a way to speak to you/ Guess we found a way to say what's true/ To say what's real,' Williams coos over glistening chains of reverberant synth and diamond dust percussion, before returning to Ibibio in the chorus. Perhaps the best example of the group's ability to convey meaning across language and tradition, to blend past and future into a singular present comes on 'She Work Very Hard'. The traditional Ibibio folk tale bobs over the waves of tuned percussion, chunky synth, and pinprick highlife-esque guitar, while Jose Joyette's drums and Derrick McIntyre's bass funk groove bring everyone to the dance floor. 'These stories won't be forgotten. Feel the music: it speaks to everybody,' Williams says. 'We can travel back in time together, while convening on a futuristic, present tense. We hope that we can give people that reason to wake up, that one song to sing and dance and be happy.'

Doko Mien: Tell me everything. On their new album, Ibibio Sound Machine provide the perfect companion, ready to digest as much as possible and then further unfurl beauty and hope. They remember and honor the past and charge forward toward the future, all while intensely expanding the present.

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

And another new volume of the Meeting Of The Minds series is here, with 4 new collaborations I've done with other producers in the jungle scene!

"Casual Loop" is a collaboration that me & Submerse started working on in 2023 but it was another one of the tracks that I had lost due to my computer being stolen in early 2024, & I hadn't fully backed up everything I had done for a few months, including this track. This meant I had to re-do a lot of the work I had done with what Submerse had started but I was lucky enough to get it near identical to how it was sounding and ready for release. Submerse has been on Future Retro London a few times, with his EP release (FR033) & a track featured on the atmospheric VA EP (FR049) that came out late last year, I'm a huge fan of his musicality & his melodies, which made this track really fun to work on, even with all the obstacles faced!

My first interaction with Quaad goes way back to 2013, when he asked me for a guest mix for a radio show called The After Party that was on C89.5FM in Seattle (which is still up on my SoundCloud for anyone curious) and then before he started his current label (Heavy Sounds), he had started a label with Wetman called Vivid Recordings, which he was sending me the releases on (but I think in standard fashion, I kept forgetting to check them!). But it wasn't until 2022 when me & Dwarde played in Seattle with him and I saw his live Amiga set where he was playing a lot of his own music, & from then on, I was better aware of what he was doing & I got to hang out with him & know him a bit better, which is when I then fully started following what he was doing. Then eventually, we ended up doing a track together (he also uses FL Studio, just like me) and "Judge Dredd" is the end result of that.

Samurai Breaks is also someone that I've known of for a long time but didn't really properly connect with until recent years where I saw what he was doing with his label Super Sonic Booty Bangers, which also does events in Sheffield which I played for in 2024. It was quite an interesting collab because I don't think many people would have necessarily expected our styles to really gel well together but I think we managed to hit a nice midpoint between his craziness & mine haha

Fixate is most likely another person that people would not have anticipated as someone that I would collaborate with, mainly because the style of tune people know him for is more tied with the footwork/halftime sound that became popular in the 2010s, as well as his output as 1/2 of dubstep duo Leftlow, but he has made some jungle in the past & I'm always down for the challenge of stepping outside of my comfort zone to work with people who are not mainly based in the newskool jungle scene but have an appreciation for it. I found out about him through the releases he had on Exit Records from 2015 onwards, plus he was also a part of Richie Brains (the project in 2016 involving many artists forming a loose collective) so I was aware of what he was doing but I properly got to know him from when I went bowling with him, Dwarde & LMajor back in 2022 and then he sent me something to work on early last year (another FL Studio producer btw!), which I took my sweet time in starting it but eventually got done & here we are! And for those wondering, the track title (May Contain Traces) alludes to me & Fixate's shared allergy towards nuts (although his is a lot more severe than mine), which was the only thing I could think of to name the track after when it came down to it!

Nervous Gender’s legendary synthpunk LP Music From Hell burbles up from infernal depths to resurface on Dark Entries. Confrontational, unhinged, and unabashedly queer, Music from Hell is an unholy grail for fans of the strangest underbellies of post-punk, minimal synth, and early industrial music, and is presented here newly remastered and on expanded double LP.

Nervous Gender (de)formed in LA in 1978 at the hands of Phranc, Gerardo Velaquez, Edward Stapleton, and Michael Ochoa. Phranc, the androgynous embodiment of the band’s name, left in 1980. Following her departure, a wide cast of LA freaks would find themselves drawn into the band’s orbit, including Alice Bag of the Bags, Paul Roessler of the Screamers, the Germs’ Don Bolles, and an 8-year old drummer named Sven Pfeiffer. In 1980, Nervous Gender appeared on the seminal Live at Target compilation alongside Factrix, uns, and Flipper. With the band’s notoriety cemented, Music from Hell followed in 1981 on Subterranean Records (as no LA label would touch this material).

Side A, dubbed “Martyr Complex”, presents a more punk-forward sound with live drum salvos and slabs of aggressive synth. These twitchy, unsettling shockers ooze with the kind of snotty misanthropy that will endear them to fans of the Screamers or Crass.

Side B, known as “Beelzebub Youth”, is a live performance the band labeled "an electronic bruto-canto dissertation on the banality of spiritual transcendence." Mutant melodies cede way to synthesized clangs, whirs, bleeps, manipulated tapes, and howls of despair.

In addition to all the material from the original LP, we’re treated to a full disc of the band’s demos, the material from the Live at Target compilation, and early live recordings. Included are unrecognizable covers of Carly Simon and Lou Reed, and the Sex Pistols that are so despairingly skewed they fall into the void. This reissue of Music From Hell includes a 36 page lyric booklet, foldout poster, and gatefold sleeve with photos, flyers, and news-clippings designed by Eloise Leigh. Tackling taboo issues like sexual kinks, mental illness, drug use, and childhood molestation, Music From Hell is still surprising – even shocking - over 40 years after the album’s release. Nervous Gender stand as one of the most genuinely anti-establishment outfits in underground music, a colossal fuck you to social norms from religious strictures to gender essentialism.

WRWTFWW Records is proud to announce a super limited vinyl release of Christine Aufderhaar and City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra's original soundtrack for the critically acclaimed, multiple award-winning 2022 animated-documentary film Aurora's Sunrise. The release comes as a 45rpm double LP in a heavyweight sleeve with inside out print.
Aurora's Sunrise is directed by Inna Sahakyan, and tells the extraordinary true story of Aurora Mardiganian, a survivor of the Armenian genocide who later became an actress in the United States. The film combines animated storytelling, archival footage, interviews, and rediscovered scenes from the 1919 silent film, and one of Hollywood's first blockbusters, Auction of Souls, in which Aurora starred. Aurora's Sunrise was Armenia's official submission for the 95th Academy Awards for best international feature film. It has won over 20 international prizes.
The composer, Christine Aufderhaar, is an accomplished German composer based in Berlin and Los Angeles, with over 20 years of experience and more than 50 films to her name. Her background spans classical, jazz, film scoring, and contemporary orchestral work, and she has been the recipient of numerous awards for her work.
The soundtrack performed by the City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra is deeply emotional, blending intimate melodies and majestic orchestral work, and weaving together themes of memory, survival, loss, and hope. A perfect fit for collectors of film scores, contemporary classical music, and limited vinyl releases.

“I've always dreamed of making an album where I could bring together artists I deeply admire, curating voices, energies, and sensibilities that have inspired me,” says Brussels-born producer and multidisciplinary artist ShunGu of his new record, Faith in the Unknown. “It took time, and it grew into something very human, rooted in trust, patience, and creative risk. These songs are conversations, not just between me and the artists, but between worlds, eras, and ways of feeling.”
That spirit of dialogue and discovery is what defines Faith in the Unknown. Emerging from years of steady, meticulous work in the underground, the album is both a bold statement of identity and an invitation into Shungu’s world. Across 14 tracks, each a self-contained vignette, ShunGu guides the listener through shifting moods and perspectives- moments of intimacy, defiance, reflection and release, coalescing into a much larger story.
His distinct touch threads through the surefire cast of collaborators - Pink Siifu, Liv.e, Fly Anakin, Chester Watson, Fatima, Maxo, Navy Blue, Dreamcastmoe, Ruqqiyah, Zekeultra and Goya Gumbani — each track unfolding as a new dimension in the same universe.
ShunGu has long been a boundary-pusher, known for weaving jazz-inflected samples, skilfully constructed textures, and MPC-driven grooves into production that feels timeless yet untethered. With Faith in the Unknown he pushes further still: a project as much about collective energy as it is about personal vision. It’s a leap into uncertainty, carried by trust in the process and the people involved.
From the lo-fi beat tapes that first won him a cult following, to collaborations that span the globe, Shungu has forged a body of work rooted in exploration and community. Faith in the Unknown crystallises those qualities into his most ambitious statement yet; a record that doesn’t just blur boundaries between genres, but asks what happens when vulnerability and experimentation are treated as shared ground.
The result is a record that trades in subtlety. Each artistic contribution adds its own shade to the larger mosaic, pulling the listener deeper into an expanding narrative. If Faith in the Unknown has a message, it’s that art can thrive in uncertainty - that in the spaces where trust, risk, and vulnerability intersect, something entirely new can emerge.

“I've always dreamed of making an album where I could bring together artists I deeply admire, curating voices, energies, and sensibilities that have inspired me,” says Brussels-born producer and multidisciplinary artist ShunGu of his new record, Faith in the Unknown. “It took time, and it grew into something very human, rooted in trust, patience, and creative risk. These songs are conversations, not just between me and the artists, but between worlds, eras, and ways of feeling.”
That spirit of dialogue and discovery is what defines Faith in the Unknown. Emerging from years of steady, meticulous work in the underground, the album is both a bold statement of identity and an invitation into Shungu’s world. Across 14 tracks, each a self-contained vignette, ShunGu guides the listener through shifting moods and perspectives- moments of intimacy, defiance, reflection and release, coalescing into a much larger story.
His distinct touch threads through the surefire cast of collaborators - Pink Siifu, Liv.e, Fly Anakin, Chester Watson, Fatima, Maxo, Navy Blue, Dreamcastmoe, Ruqqiyah, Zekeultra and Goya Gumbani — each track unfolding as a new dimension in the same universe.
ShunGu has long been a boundary-pusher, known for weaving jazz-inflected samples, skilfully constructed textures, and MPC-driven grooves into production that feels timeless yet untethered. With Faith in the Unknown he pushes further still: a project as much about collective energy as it is about personal vision. It’s a leap into uncertainty, carried by trust in the process and the people involved.
From the lo-fi beat tapes that first won him a cult following, to collaborations that span the globe, Shungu has forged a body of work rooted in exploration and community. Faith in the Unknown crystallises those qualities into his most ambitious statement yet; a record that doesn’t just blur boundaries between genres, but asks what happens when vulnerability and experimentation are treated as shared ground.
The result is a record that trades in subtlety. Each artistic contribution adds its own shade to the larger mosaic, pulling the listener deeper into an expanding narrative. If Faith in the Unknown has a message, it’s that art can thrive in uncertainty - that in the spaces where trust, risk, and vulnerability intersect, something entirely new can emerge.

gyrofield is 22-year-old, Utrecht-via-Hong-Kong producer Kiana Li, who has put out several albums and over a dozen EPs since 2018, from self-released productions to projects on Metalheadz, XL Recordings and FABRICLIVE among many others.

Their next EP is Suspension of Belief, and it arrives on Objekt's label, Kapsela. (Following last year's Ganzfeld and Chicken Garaage, it's Kapsela's first record by an artist other than Objekt himself.) In keeping with her recent releases, it shows Li continuing a creative renaissance, moving beyond the outer fringes of drum & bass to present what they call "a set of deeper, shapeshifting tracks, cross-pollinating ideas from house, free jazz and techno."

Suspension of Belief was written between June and October of 2024, inspired by a summer spent in nature and encapsulating Li's lived experiences and personal reflections in this time. "Thoughts about the boundaries between civilisation and nature began to take on a charged meaning," she says. "How can we, as people, live on the backs of others’ suffering, and see emotionally vacant newscasting on the desecration of the world around us? We ought to be angry, but we also ought to find healing and love somewhere. A representation of this thinking exists in the record."

The result is an elegant paradox. From the warm upright bass on "Vegetation Grows Thick" to the rattling, "Spastik”-esque snare rolls of “Bolete”, the record is at once steely and organic, with dreamlike states giving way to depth and intensity. It’s functional enough for rituals of escapism but determined to confront the world as it really is. As Li puts it:

"Suspension of Belief is a play on the suspension of disbelief, the common convention for us to immerse ourselves in fictional worlds. In turn, the record’s title suggests the idea of immersing in the real world, an antifiction, facing reality.”



Mastered by Beau at Ten Eight Seven

Artwork and design by Brodie Kaman

Vinyl distributed by Rubadub

"30 unforgettable hits from the decade that brought movie classics from The Breakfast Club to Back To The Future.
There was no greater era for movie soundtracks than the 80s! Featuring some of the most iconic and memorable soundtrack moments including the title track from Ghostbusters, ‘Holding Out for a Hero’ from Footloose, ‘I’ve Had The Time Of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing, ‘A Kind Of Magic’ from Highlander, ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ from Rocky III, Gladys Knight’s classic Bond theme from Licence To Kill plus many more. This epic double vinyl will have you reminiscing on those beloved 80s film classics and their amazing music."

FOR FANS OF... Durand Jones & The Indications, Pale Jay, Kelly Finnigan, Niel Frances, Bobby Oroza, Holly Walker. Colemine Records is proud to present a brand new 45 from Aaron Frazer featuring two tracks from his debut LP. The funky and drum heavy "Bad News" has a timely message at a time when people willfully ignore the warnings about everything from climate change to systematic racism. Frazer recorded the tune in Nashville and he brought together a bevy of talented musicians, including members of The Memphis Boys, who backed Dusty Springfield on "Son of a Preacher Man" and Aretha Franklin on "Natural Woman." On the flip, "Done Lyin'" shows Aaron's vulnerability throughout the song. Heavy and tough production from Dan Auerbach paired with Frazer smoothly singing his heart out is a match made in sweet soul heaven. Introducing, LP that this 45 comes from has been streamed 78.8 million times on Spotify alone. Aaron Frazer has 5.2 million monthly listeners and 70k followers on Spotify

The Sugarhill Gang is an American hip hop trio, worldwide known for their massive 1979 hit "Rapper's Delight", which was the first rap single to become a Top 40 hit on the Billboard Hot 100. The track was the first exposure to hip-hop for millions of people. The Sugarhill Gang were also among the very first rap acts to record a full-length LP.

Sugarhill Gang includes the original 7-inch version of "Rapper's Delight" as a bonus track. The album is available as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on translucent red coloured vinyl, housed in a gatefold sleeve.

August Greene culminates years of mutual respect and friendship, channeling the musicians’ various talents into a cohesive project. The perfect marriage of jazz, hip-hop and soul, it’s music that just is. This is black expression the way God intended: earnest, unfiltered, and harmonious. Throughout August Greene, you feel the abundance of Glasper’s rolling keys, the sheer honesty of Com’s lyrics, and the nuanced subtlety of Riggins’ drum work. It’s a fluid sound that’s sorely needed in today’s landscape, and a teachable moment for the next wave of creators. “I feel like we need to set the bar for this generation of musicians and producers,” Riggins says. “There’s a lot of computer-driven music. This is the opposite of that. We’re showing you can still use your creative muscle on an instrument to generate your own sound.” August Greene is a meditative offering that stands tall against the era of “fake news.” “They body snatching black girls in D.C. / Politics and propaganda on the TV,” Common observes on the opening track. On “Nirvana,” the lyricist uses a stuttering percussive loop and faint piano chords to search his inner being: “Thought I was gonna fly when Obama became the king … when it’s all done, will I have heaven’s dress code, and been able to let God and let go.” As Com puts it, Glasper and Riggins’ soundtrack allowed him to open up in ways he hadn’t done previously. Like on “Fly Away,” for instance, where he riffs on the public relationships he’s had. Other songs, like “Black Kennedy,” feel spacious and scenic. “I got to go new places with the music, and it didn’t have to fit within a genre for me to participate on it,” he says. “This gave me an experience I haven’t had in a long time, so I want people to feel that. I want this to be a cleansing of whatever doesn’t feel good or inspiring.” In the end, August Greene speaks to those pushing through the dark for brighter days. It's a masterpiece from which virtue can shine. “I want people to go on the ride and be open,” Glasper says. “We just created and it became a sound. I want people to approach this with an open mind and without expectations.” —Marcus J. Moore

The next Planet X invasion is underway! Four mutated and banging hybrids have joined forces for the ultimate techno takeover.
First up is Q-Cumb, a former vegetable farmer from the southern parts of Iceland known for excellent cucumbers. Since he fled his homeland he has gained a notorious reputation in the world of electronic music all over the world. He is known as Odinn, cucumb45, Bbbbbb, kid mistik, slurp gurken, icelandic lamb, orange juice man, gurk, q-cumb, holidayboy slurp and last but not least, Bjarki. His track, Dreamers, is considered the track of the year by those who have experienced it on the dancefloors of the united consciousness. Lafontaine was spawned on the Icelandic highlands and channels Icelands musical energy through his earthy connections. His tune, Ailenated, describes his existence where he fights on a daily basis to combine his music with his daily life. The result is a musical outbreak consisting of terrestrial techno with an experimental feel. ThizOne cooks up the electro-mixture Bolt which is a political anthem that describes his anger towards Icelandic politics. Recently the Icelandic government has been brainwashing the population using corrupted electronic waves. ThizOne's track is an attempt to counteract these terrible acts of treason to our people. Matrixxman, one of the team members of Planet X, throws forward an Acid banger called 'Flexxin On Hoes' that will most definitely tear up the dancefloors of the galaxy.
On the next Planet X release Matrixxman will twist and turn a remix from Lafontaine and mutate that bitch into a nuclear nugget for the future. In other news the Planet X master himself is conjouring his own ep, his first in a while that will see the light of dawn later this year. Don't miss out on this release Space Cowboys!

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.