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Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

AM006 is by Berlin's ML, titled 'Life always breaks your heart'. Two 30-minute pieces were written, constructed, collaged and fixed together by himself. It's an important story, so there's a copy from ML below and also ours was written by Bokeh Version Industrial to do it justice.

Hallucinated Brazilian poetry read by text to voice engines, supernatural thrillers ripped from Youtube, the clang of cutlery and distant canteen conversation, that noise wire fencing makes when you rake it with a stick, crickets chirping over odd dance emotions, a sample you think your recognise but can’t name…..

The trivial is cosmically important, the cosmically important is trivial. ‘It’s about the product’ - all of life’s a sample. You contain universes.

Alice in Wonderland, late night sessions with kosmische guitar legends, ethnographic chants from an unknown land, “There’s no monopoly of knowledge / there’s no monopoly of power”: forecasts from global political trends, China will be important they say, someone’s whistling a tune that doesn’t exist, I’m thinking of times long before I was born . . .

Growing naturally like a beautiful montage from his field recordings (a rich library of personal psychoacoustic details) and his 150 Session on NTS, ML's Life Always Breaks Your Heart is mixtape-concrète:

Gamelan of the soul, Bio-Curry-Wurst in Kreuzberg, zither overlays the booms of the squatter’s homegrade grenades…

Mark Leckey vs. Alvin Curran, Gustav Flaubert vs Cabaret Voltaire, free association flashbacks with the timestamps mixed up, with added bass guitar, OP-1, Ableton, distinguishing the ‘real’ instruments becomes unimportant….they’re absorbed by memory foam….

No country, no flag – outernational without a cause!

There is no purpose, there is only reverie.

ML -

"A useless ruin, things are falling apart, even in our deepest, we long for harmony. A hypothetical path, for obscure reasons, fades into transparency. The mediocrity of Western culture, sicken by P.R., life offers a chance, a place for enthusiasm. The texture of the world, them can read it in your eyes. In the heart of schizo-culture, distance, suddenly shortened, forms characters as symbols. Deafen by mass media, embittered by unsettled chemistry, the willing body, forever in transition. The pre-invented existence, owned by language, creates a passage towards chaos. Paragraphs of currents, amplify the feelings, while silence leaks into the new luxury of time. Gentrification of sentiments, beneath our palms, all these memoirs. A modern consciousness, stretching over years in narcissistic differentiation. In touch with another human spirit, blowing backwards, beneath dark waters. We put our hands on your body, onto a new landscape, employed by metaphysical mutations. At the edge of the cosmos, prairies and mountains hide the truth in tactical silence. Apparently so, a number of months ago, above our head, a landscape of journals. Mystical content, statistically insignificant. A new patio, them crawled through the walls."

OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK FOR PERSONAL EFFECTS, THE FILM. SYNOPSYS:

Walter is a rising star in the NCAA wrestling world until his life is ripped apart by the brutal murder of his sister. Returning home to console his mother Gloria he seeks vengeance on the man who is accused of the crime. A chance meeting with a beautiful mature woman gives him solace to the situation. Will this unlikely pairing bloom into a romance and heal a wound the world cannot see or will the loss of his sister push him over the edge?

• One of the first punk rock bands of the 70s music revolution, and certainly the first in Ireland, the Radiators From Space came roaring out of a 7-inch 45 with (I’m gonna smash my Telecaster through the) ‘Television Screen’ in April of 1977, a month after ‘White Riot’.

• Before the year’s end, a second 45 ‘Enemies’ (sometimes NMEies) and the “TV Tube Heart” long-player had appeared. Although the second single was on there, the debut was recorded in an altogether more relaxed style, presaging that there would be more to the Radiators than three chords and a polemic. In fact, they were obviously more sophisticated players than some of their contemporaries.

• The album was a full-on assault on all that any self-respecting youth would find wrong about the world at the time. All band members contributed to the songs, but it was Philip Chevron’s acerbic, angry, pointed and literary lyrics that gave the band such an edge. Philip strutted a gritty lead guitar counterpointing Pete Holidai’s underpinning rhythm, with Mark Megaray’s flowing bass lines belying the instrument’s more usual role to sit in with drummer Jimmy Crashe’s taut, driving rhythm. Steve Rapid fronted the band on some tracks, but Pete and Philip carried most of the lead vocals. Steve left before the record came out – he became a successful graphic designer and has re-imagined the sleeve for this 10-inch issue. He also designed the original.

• A second album, “Ghostown”, produced by Tony Visconti, came out in 1979, hailed now as one of the classic Irish albums of all time. Over the years the band periodically re-formed, first with the gay love song of great yearning ‘Under Cleary’s Clock’, and then making two more great albums in “Trouble Pilgrim” and “Sound City Beat”, covering great Irish 45s of the 60s and early 70s.

• Philip went on to a career as a Pogue, sadly leaving us way too young in 2013. Mark Megaray likewise departed at an early age. Pete and Steve keep the flame alive with Trouble Pilgrims, and if you are lucky you can catch them at a Dublin club sometime – well worth it.

• But “TV Tube Heart” is where it all started for Dublin’s finest.

The next one, Relaxer!

Climate of Fear follows up Soft Boi’s debut LP with a mammoth drop: 12 tapes ripped straight from the first two years of Berlin parties. Released one per month, the series moves from Izabel’s shivering chug through Nkisi’s deadly anarcho-gabber psychedelia, Polar Inertia’s sleek techno throb and DJ Python & Mad Miran’s impromptu closing b2b.

Relaxer tosses his hat in the ring for Climate's fifth installment with a mini-album of studio works. "Hedonic Fatigue" opens with the delirious 20 minute "Fatigue Suite," a white knuckle slow dive that will leave you gasping. Rippers "Upstairs & Inside" and "Strictly II" are counterbalanced with the languid "World Pulse" and misty "Jim's Day." Come sway in the breeze, right on the edge of violence. Out Dec 2020.

Elena Colombi
Polar Inertia
Nkisi
Bruce
Relaxer
Bambounou
Shanti Celeste
Karen Gwyer
Vladimir Ivkovic
Izabel
Terekke
Mad Miran b2b DJ Python