quête:velvet skin

Pure electro straight from Eupasia caves. A release from Velvet Skin, a new Electro alias from VIL, an influent Portuguese techno producer and DJ, co-founder of Hayes Collective and that already has released music on Klockworks.

Velvet May returns on “Tears on Waves” with his third and latest EP “Phoebe’s White Skin” to be released on January 2020. The new record comes out with a new touch and research of new sounds, making this EP a well done bond among.

Phoebe is the venal muse, her hollow eyes are full of nocturnal visions. In this record she takes part of a story of pain and pleasure, horror and madness where the passion burns all thru the night, taking her to the edge of the daylight. She screams and, with heavy breathing and not bold enough, tries to connect her state of mind to something that got stolen already, causing an immense sense of drowning.

Picture by Alex Aptsiauri Design by Jacopo Severitano.

Die Band Timber Timbre begleitete uns seit über einer Dekade und wurde über die Jahre zu so etwas wie einer Institution in der wie auch immer verorteten Indie-Rock und Folk Welt. Immer schön unterm Radar und immer schön eigensinning gelang es ihnen über die Jahre eine beeindruckende Fangemeinde um sich zu versammeln. Das ist nun eigentlich nichts ungewöhnliches, aber wenn dann Bands wie Timber Timbre nicht nur in ihrer eigenen Suppe schmoren sondern sich musikalisch weiterentwicklen und von Album zu Album besser werden, dann ist das wirklich faszinierend. Das neue Werk - Sincerely, Future Pollution' ist ein Album, das eine Band nur alle zehn Jahre schreibt oder vielleicht auch nur einmal in der Karriere.

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!

From out of nowhere comes a unique collaborative album from Edvard Graham Lewis (WIRE) & Mark Spybey (ZOVIET FRANCE). Mixing lush electronic rhythms, sonic collage, ambient soundscapes and manipulated field recordings, these six compositions form an album with a strong identity. That this is such a vital and fertile partnership should come as no surprise. After all, both men have made careers out of creating confidently questing musics. Lewis with Wire, He Said, Hox, Dome etc. and Spybey with Dead Voices on Air, Beehatch, Altered Statesmen, Zoviet France and so on. This new album however, is something different again: experimental, yet tightly focused, and not averse to the groove or the sly hook. The pair met via an appearance on a podcast in November 2022, hosted by cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy. They hit it off immediately. “We did a live chat with Graham - which I think, went on for about three days” jokes Spybey. It was Spybey who first broached the idea of collaboration. “It was a bit like shy bairns get nowt: I just said ‘maybe we should make something together.’” And so, with no plan other than to see what might develop, the duo began to assemble the compositions at long distance. Indeed, Lewis and Spybey only met in the real world after the album had been completed. “Mark sent half a dozen tracks in a stereo mix,” says Lewis. “And I looked at the ’topography’, to see where the spaces might be. So then I’d add to those areas. But then, when do you take it away? Sometimes you let it drop off a cliff, land in the shingle, and it gets washed out to sea again.” The process moved at a pace. “Almost everything each of us brought, ending up being incorporated in some way.” Says Spybey. “We didn’t really go down any cul-de-sacs.” As Lewis observes “We have such a sympathetic tone.” Full of inventive sonics that draw on both men’s previous work, ‘Lewis/Spybey’ offers up a richly detailed soundworld

Brussels-based accordionist Suzan Peeters releases her debut album Cassotto on the Belgian label blickwinkel. With Cassotto, she opens a door into a hidden chamber of sound. The title refers to the “cassotto” — a small resonating chamber inside the accordion that warms, softens, and deepens its tone. Listening to this record feels as if you’ve stepped into that room yourself, enveloped in a world where intimacy and grandeur collide.

Although this is her first release, Peeters is already recognised as one of the most promising names in Belgium’s experimental music scene. Her distinctive live shows — from leading venues across Belgium to a packed Café Oto in London — have earned her a reputation for combining accordion, electronics and unconventional objects such as a massage board into a compelling whole where contrasts come together in an unexpected way. Cassotto captures this approach in recorded form, giving listeners the same sense of immediacy as her concerts, but framed within the intimate space suggested by the album’s title.

While the cassotto chamber naturally gives the accordion a soft and velvety voice, Peeters harnesses that warmth to explore extremes — from hushed detail to bold, expansive gestures that fill the room. As such, the album moves between the acoustic and the electronic, the tender and the abrasive, the static and the dynamic, the traditional and the experimental.

With Cassotto, Suzan Peeters presents a debut that places the accordion at the centre of an adventurous and contemporary sound world — one that invites to discover how far an accordion can reach when tradition and imagination intertwine.

Suzan Peeters (*1999) is a Belgian accordionist, composer, and experimentalist. She is constantly looking for new timbres and sound textures within the accordion, pushing its acoustic spectrum to its limits by manipulating the interplay between her body and the body of her instrument.
Suzan studied classical accordion at KASK & Conservatorium in Ghent and at the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. She is currently studying Live Electronics at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels.

Ltd edition in transparent yellow vinyl!



The Mystery Lights 2nd outing on Daptone's rock subsidiary, Wick, sees them digging deeper into their cavern of influences, taking on tips from Suicide, The Kinks and Television as they look to build on their already party fuelled, raucous sound.

The Mystery Lights story begins in 2004 in the small town of Salinas California when friends Michael Brandon and Luis Alfonso -whose shared fondness for groups like The Mc5, Velvet Underground, Dead Moon, and The Fall (just to name a few) -decided to join forces and craft their own brand of unhinged rock and roll. From there they spent the better part of 10 years touring relentlessly before migrating to Queens, New York in 2014.

With a live show known for its raw, visceral energy and relentless assault –leaving little to no stoppage between songs –they barreled through countless NYC haunts and DIY venues, quickly amassing a fervent local following. The buzz soon caught the attention of Daptone Records execs who were in the beginning stages of launching a new rock-centric imprint, Wick Records. Impressed by the groups’ musicianship, groove, endless supply of energy, and understanding of musical history the Mystery Lights were quickly signed to Wick. Though a rock band at heart, the parallels to what Daptone Records had traditionally looked for in their Soul artists was undeniable. Soon sessions were booked with Producer/Engineer Wayne Gordon, and the release of their debut single “Too Many Girls” b/w “Too Tough to Bear” launched to mass critical fanfare.

Upon the release of their self-titled full-length on June 24th 2016 The Mystery Lights were quickly crowned “one of New York’s finest garage rock bands” by NME. Extensive touring, including multiple stops in Europe, Asia and Australia followed which found the group graduating from support slots at hole-in-the-wall clubs to headlining stages at major festivals worldwide.

After two years of break-neck, non-stop touring, the group settled back into Queens to prepare for their second full-length record, Too Much Tension(out May 2019). With Wayne Gordon in the producer’s chair and several intense writing sessions under their belt the group were back at Daptone’s House of Soul and ready to track. While keeping the hard-hitting approach of the first LP, Too Much Tension finds the group digging deeper into their well of eclectic influences, enriching their sound without echoing the past. Mixing the eerie, insistent synth sounds of groups like The Normal and Suicide, the energy and swagger of punk’s golden age, the pop sensibility of The Kinks, and the stark, deliberate execution of Television -The Mystery Lights are taking their idiosyncratic brand of rock and roll to dizzying new heights.

Soap & Skin kündigt mit dem Cover-Song 'Mystery Of Love' (im Original von Sufjan Stevens) ihr erstes Cover-Album 'TORSO' an, das am 22. November über Play It Again Sam erscheinen wird. Anja Plaschg alias Soap&Skin hatte schon immer ein besonderes Talent dafür, Songs mit einem ganz eigenen Ansatz neu zu interpretieren. Als das Donau-Festival sie 2022 einlud, an einem Abend sämtliche über die Jahre entstandenen Cover-Stücke aufzuführen, kam ihr die Idee zu einer festen Sammlung - die jetzt gebündelt als Album 'TORSO' erscheint.

"Springing from Osaka, Japan’s cultural center and historical heart, comes HYPER GAL, a two-piece band consisting of visual artist Koharu Ishida on vocals and noise artist Kurumi Kadoya on drums.

The minimalist duo make maximum impact - stripping music down beyond the bare essentials, to create shimmering, no wave pop from blast beat drums, glittery keyboard loops and ethereal bubblegum vocals - laced with velvet and firecrackers.

On “After Image” HYPER GAL hold fast to their limited palette, but expand their reach. Working with a canvas larger than ever before, the band fearlessly alternate bold, avant-garde strokes with intimate, deliberate gestures. The result is a new world awash in a sea of endless possibilities - only visible with closed eyes and open ears.

“There's something almost vapor-wave-adjacent about the glorious racket riled up by this pair. The effect of repetition throughout, the way the beat slips in and out of time, is hypnotic” - THE WIRE

“Blends elements of noise, no wave, pop and blistering punk to create something remarkable and new… Endlessly inventive and challenging” - MAXIMUMROCKNROLL

“These royalty of no-wave-pop don't blink and their delivery is absolute. An exhilarating, total experience” - NOISE-FI

""Indescribable, just listen to it for yourself. And don't take any stimulants beforehand, you could end up in the emergency room"" – OX FANZINE

“It looks like noise, but there is too much color. Pop, but unsellable. Their music goes beyond barriers, genres and boundaries, as if a virus had been injected into a video game bringing delirious ruin to a perfect world” – SODA POP

“Intensely good. A beautiful challenge, a noise, relentless, not an onslaught, always inviting, like they want to pull you in rather than chase you away. Actually, this is joyous” - THE ORGAN"

Emotional Rescue dives back into one of its specialties, the formative years of Post Punk and Dub influenced music, presenting the, to date, unheralded Skinbat Scramble. The rarity of the unknown, the discovery of rich, lost music, it is a delight to release a compilation of the band's previously unreleased recordings. A snapshot of time, a journey that covers several decades of friendship but is concentrated here on the fertile 80's scene.

Forged around the friendship of Mark Eason and Fergus Crockford, but with ever changing line-ups, flowing in and out during misspent youths, self-taught playing, falling in and out of bands, travelling that well-worn journey from Home Counties boredom to the excitement of a rough edged London, taking in as music as possible, from Motown on to the The Velvet Underground, The Rolling Stones, Bowie, Pink Floyd, Gong and Fripp & Eno, before Dr Feelgood, Eddie & The Hotrods and a dose of John Peel led to discovering Dub and Punk and witnessing that short-lived burst of creativity at the Roxy Club, Marquee or Vortex and exploring back to early Rock'n'Roll, Rockabilly and old Surf'n'Soul, alongside the likes of Wire and Suicide.

As the Post-Punk sounds mixed simultaneously with Two-Tone, local Art College gave way to university and the early struggles of finding a way in the late 70s / early 80s of Thatcher's Britain. Music was central, Skinbat Scramble finally appearing, morphing from numerous teen bands, early studio excursions of tape loops and effects leading to the first recording sessions in 1981.

The slower tempos, introspection, open structures, and shimmering experimentation of Post Punk were pivotal. John Foxx's early Ultravox, Siouxsies' "Lord's Prayer" period and The Electric Chairs seminal "So Many Ways", influenced to a freer future. PIL, ACR, Section 25 and Pink Military let imaginations briefly roam.

'Far out and weird', those first recordings made at Leeds Uni's Fine Arts Dept utilized Revoxes, Tandberg, MiniMoog and even a borrowed drummer. This was followed up with completed sessions at Elephant Studios in London, forming the basis of this compilation.

The tight scattergun rhythms on opener Submit, in both Vocal and short Dub mix, bely an unreleased band. Taught and crisp, it's like a song you've heard propelling open-minded, leftfield dancefloors for years.

The writing, musicianship and studio mastery displayed on North By Northwest and Skiddadle should not be music unreleased for almost 40 years. In North Dub and closer, Pixie Boot Dub their understanding of the opportunities of dub Reggae are clearly apparent, ethereal music wormholes for late night smokers.

However, it is in Basement Voltaire that the band step out time. Recorded in 1986 this is a 9-minute proto-techno wonder that mixes all their psychedelic meets punk youth in a crescendo of crashing claps and rolling toms that is of a time and so far ahead of its time.

And that was that, after 6 gigs, including a couple at the infamous St Martins, to an audience total you can fit on one hand, the band's first incantation closed and the master tapes were stored for several decades, waiting for "The Psychedelic Pirates" to finally surface.

Since 2015, Berlin’s Cuntroaches have defiled countless venues across Europe and the UK, playing festivals and touring relentlessly. The trio’s influences range widely from metal to punk to hardcore to experimental noise. They aim to create a hybrid sonic experience within a dense wall of sound (often combined with some form of performative mischief - if they’re in the mood). Audiences have been subjected to spewing beer bra harnesses, diaper outfits, empty pet food containers or witnessed band members performing from inside of a trash bag. They’ve thrown a lot of trash on a lot of people. "Cuntroaches - a name inexplicably unused throughout the history of bands, orchestras... any grouping of people really...

As it is, the mantle’s (finally) been taken up by two women and a bloke making ferociously warped hardcore-flecked no wave. Mutating waves of feedback intoxicate and induce hangovers all at once, while David Hantelius gets a frankly obscene sound out of his bass - and the vocals - reverbed to an absurd degree - approach black metal levels of demonic witchery. As with New York’s no wave OGs, what it is definitely not is inept pissing around, ‘noise for noise’s sake’ - no matter how blown-out and violent Cuntroaches get, their interplay is lithe, their arrangements measured." - The Quietus “I want to make something clear: at this very moment, I think that Germany’s CUNTROACHES are the most important and life-affirming band on the planet. Period. The first demo blew me away, but this one... FUCK ME. Somehow they have become more in control and more chaotic at the same time, and the intensity borders on bleak / black metal darknes. I simply do not understand how this music exists, and how it can be so good... eternal hails.” - Maximum Rocknroll

Patti Smith, “the first published poet to move her poetry completely into rock 'n' roll and to entice experimental rock fans into the forbidden cinema of her hallucinatory fantasy” (New York Times), began her musical career unconventionally. It took off at a poetry reading where she was backed by Lenny Kaye on guitar; later star photographer Robert Mapplethorpe financed her punk-rock cult single "Hey Joe". In 1975, encouraged by her success, Patti Smith released "Horses", an album in which she fused rock riffs and spoken rhythms to create a punk-trash sound. The rock scene was electrified, raging about ”the best garage sound of the 70s” (Creem Magazine) and conjectured that Smith had “drawn up material from Rimbaud, Burroughs, Dylan and Velvet Underground into a hot needle and injected it under the skin” (Sounds Magazine). Later productions were dismissed as sentimental and self-loving outpourings, since the rock-poet didn’t continue in the same vein as "Horses", with its metallic harshness and raw language. That’s why this recording remains an impressive unique production by a visionary rock ’n’ roll singer.

The Zephyr Bones’ psychedelic rock expands in a precise and determined sophomore album. A warm and accessible record that speaks about love, self-affirmation, loss and hope.

A quicksilver track that glides on a buoyant bassline and glistening melodic interplay, “No One” is the sound of joy. While it’s easy to pigeonhole it as a dreampop track, there’s undoubtedly hints of psych, funk and Kraut all nestled in there, The Zephyr Bones blurring the lines with ease in this intoxicating track that shows growth in their sonic heft without losing their feathery lightness.
Beats per Minute
"No One" opens up like a traditional indie dance track, with sparkling guitars and a vibrant synth lead reminiscent of a cut from The Strokes or Tame Impala. But it progresses in a fascinating way, bringing in a crunchy psychedelic guitar solo and a funky instrumental breakdown at the end. This track has a variety of sounds, but it's prog rock more than anything, as the dynamic instrumentation sticks out the most. Every layer here is not only an excellent piece to the larger puzzle while also being technically impressive on its own. Despite these nods to the more experienced rock nerd, what's the most fascinating is how accessible the tune really is. The wild drum beats, dense synth layers, and lightning-quick guitars demonstrate the true cerebral chemistry of the group. The sheer musical talent doesn't hurt either.
Earmilk
When The Zephyr Bones first burst into the scene they crushed everything that got in their way. Their music slapped us like a wave when it reaches shore. It took us by surprise and left us asking yearning for more. They coined their style “beach wave”. All this became a first album titled Secret Place, something like the sonic coordinates of a sunny place with a soundtrack of guitars with reverb and intoxicating melodies. You can’t tell whether you’ve been there or not, but you definitely want to go back.
In Neon Body they are the same people, but it hits differently. Their melodies and suggestive guitar riffs are on point. They are able to take you back to places. You will never finish these 10 tracks in the same place where you were when you first hit play. Speaking of The Zephyr Bones is speaking of pure freedom. And yet, in this second album we get to know them in a different way, more determined and with a renewed intensity. The landscape has also changed and now the tone reminds us of the twilight, and in some songs you can even feel the reflection of neon light on your skin.
But let’s not lose the point. What matters here are the songs, and in this album you can find pretty damn good ones. “No One”, the first single, is an excellent entry into the universe created in Neon Body. Addictive and irresistible, it will instantly get you dancing and singing along. “So High” is a dizzying and fast-paced first track. By the time “Verneda Lights” arrives, you have fully surrendered to Brian Silva (vocals, guitar and synthesizers), Jossip Tkalcic (guitar and vocals), Marc López (drums) and Carlos Ramos (bass). “Sparks” shines with its own light: it is a controlled fire until the final part of the song makes everything burn again. “Plastic Freedom” goes all-in with an infallible riff. “Velvet” is as elegant as its title suggests, and “Rocksteady” hits the bullseye again with a chorus that hits like a poisonous dart. “Neon Eyes’’ lifts you up with heavenly back up vocals and “Afterglow” keeps you with your feet on the ground – Why? Because begs you to dance. And then comes “Celeste V”, a song that speaks about loss that puts an end to the recording.

Neon Yellow
The Zephyr Bones’ psychedelic rock expands in a precise and determined sophomore album. A warm and accessible record that speaks about love, self-affirmation, loss and hope.

A quicksilver track that glides on a buoyant bassline and glistening melodic interplay, “No One” is the sound of joy. While it’s easy to pigeonhole it as a dreampop track, there’s undoubtedly hints of psych, funk and Kraut all nestled in there, The Zephyr Bones blurring the lines with ease in this intoxicating track that shows growth in their sonic heft without losing their feathery lightness.
Beats per Minute
"No One" opens up like a traditional indie dance track, with sparkling guitars and a vibrant synth lead reminiscent of a cut from The Strokes or Tame Impala. But it progresses in a fascinating way, bringing in a crunchy psychedelic guitar solo and a funky instrumental breakdown at the end. This track has a variety of sounds, but it's prog rock more than anything, as the dynamic instrumentation sticks out the most. Every layer here is not only an excellent piece to the larger puzzle while also being technically impressive on its own. Despite these nods to the more experienced rock nerd, what's the most fascinating is how accessible the tune really is. The wild drum beats, dense synth layers, and lightning-quick guitars demonstrate the true cerebral chemistry of the group. The sheer musical talent doesn't hurt either.
Earmilk
When The Zephyr Bones first burst into the scene they crushed everything that got in their way. Their music slapped us like a wave when it reaches shore. It took us by surprise and left us asking yearning for more. They coined their style “beach wave”. All this became a first album titled Secret Place, something like the sonic coordinates of a sunny place with a soundtrack of guitars with reverb and intoxicating melodies. You can’t tell whether you’ve been there or not, but you definitely want to go back.
In Neon Body they are the same people, but it hits differently. Their melodies and suggestive guitar riffs are on point. They are able to take you back to places. You will never finish these 10 tracks in the same place where you were when you first hit play. Speaking of The Zephyr Bones is speaking of pure freedom. And yet, in this second album we get to know them in a different way, more determined and with a renewed intensity. The landscape has also changed and now the tone reminds us of the twilight, and in some songs you can even feel the reflection of neon light on your skin.
But let’s not lose the point. What matters here are the songs, and in this album you can find pretty damn good ones. “No One”, the first single, is an excellent entry into the universe created in Neon Body. Addictive and irresistible, it will instantly get you dancing and singing along. “So High” is a dizzying and fast-paced first track. By the time “Verneda Lights” arrives, you have fully surrendered to Brian Silva (vocals, guitar and synthesizers), Jossip Tkalcic (guitar and vocals), Marc López (drums) and Carlos Ramos (bass). “Sparks” shines with its own light: it is a controlled fire until the final part of the song makes everything burn again. “Plastic Freedom” goes all-in with an infallible riff. “Velvet” is as elegant as its title suggests, and “Rocksteady” hits the bullseye again with a chorus that hits like a poisonous dart. “Neon Eyes’’ lifts you up with heavenly back up vocals and “Afterglow” keeps you with your feet on the ground – Why? Because begs you to dance. And then comes “Celeste V”, a song that speaks about loss that puts an end to the recording.

Tape

The Zephyr Bones’ psychedelic rock expands in a precise and determined sophomore album. A warm and accessible record that speaks about love, self-affirmation, loss and hope.

A quicksilver track that glides on a buoyant bassline and glistening melodic interplay, “No One” is the sound of joy. While it’s easy to pigeonhole it as a dreampop track, there’s undoubtedly hints of psych, funk and Kraut all nestled in there, The Zephyr Bones blurring the lines with ease in this intoxicating track that shows growth in their sonic heft without losing their feathery lightness.
Beats per Minute
"No One" opens up like a traditional indie dance track, with sparkling guitars and a vibrant synth lead reminiscent of a cut from The Strokes or Tame Impala. But it progresses in a fascinating way, bringing in a crunchy psychedelic guitar solo and a funky instrumental breakdown at the end. This track has a variety of sounds, but it's prog rock more than anything, as the dynamic instrumentation sticks out the most. Every layer here is not only an excellent piece to the larger puzzle while also being technically impressive on its own. Despite these nods to the more experienced rock nerd, what's the most fascinating is how accessible the tune really is. The wild drum beats, dense synth layers, and lightning-quick guitars demonstrate the true cerebral chemistry of the group. The sheer musical talent doesn't hurt either.
Earmilk
When The Zephyr Bones first burst into the scene they crushed everything that got in their way. Their music slapped us like a wave when it reaches shore. It took us by surprise and left us asking yearning for more. They coined their style “beach wave”. All this became a first album titled Secret Place, something like the sonic coordinates of a sunny place with a soundtrack of guitars with reverb and intoxicating melodies. You can’t tell whether you’ve been there or not, but you definitely want to go back.
In Neon Body they are the same people, but it hits differently. Their melodies and suggestive guitar riffs are on point. They are able to take you back to places. You will never finish these 10 tracks in the same place where you were when you first hit play. Speaking of The Zephyr Bones is speaking of pure freedom. And yet, in this second album we get to know them in a different way, more determined and with a renewed intensity. The landscape has also changed and now the tone reminds us of the twilight, and in some songs you can even feel the reflection of neon light on your skin.
But let’s not lose the point. What matters here are the songs, and in this album you can find pretty damn good ones. “No One”, the first single, is an excellent entry into the universe created in Neon Body. Addictive and irresistible, it will instantly get you dancing and singing along. “So High” is a dizzying and fast-paced first track. By the time “Verneda Lights” arrives, you have fully surrendered to Brian Silva (vocals, guitar and synthesizers), Jossip Tkalcic (guitar and vocals), Marc López (drums) and Carlos Ramos (bass). “Sparks” shines with its own light: it is a controlled fire until the final part of the song makes everything burn again. “Plastic Freedom” goes all-in with an infallible riff. “Velvet” is as elegant as its title suggests, and “Rocksteady” hits the bullseye again with a chorus that hits like a poisonous dart. “Neon Eyes’’ lifts you up with heavenly back up vocals and “Afterglow” keeps you with your feet on the ground – Why? Because begs you to dance. And then comes “Celeste V”, a song that speaks about loss that puts an end to the recording.

Balearic floatation tank vibes from another choice debutant to Good Morning Tapes, introducing Nueen with a romantically introspective suite of fluttering electronic productions gilded with glyding subbass, recommended if you're into the sferic label, Bola/0161-era Skam, Eno & Budd, Roméo Poirier or Perila.

Blessed with a play of warmth and dappled light recognisable to anyone who has visited or lives in the Mediterranean, ‘Nova Llum’ presents Nueen’s diaristic account of days lolling and contemplating life in the Balearic isles. Drawing inspiration from its sunbleached rocky mountains and brilliant blue waters unusually devoid of lobster-tanned holidayers during lockdown, Nueen lets his mind and arps drift unimpeded across the landscape in nine sublime parts with a sound bound to appeal to lovers of classic Eno & Budd or Roméo Poirier as much as strains of vapourwave, Perila’s ASMR textures and cult Grabaciones Accidentales.

With a light touch Nueen takes us there, beautifully evoking a slippage of time from afternoon to noche between the glitching butterfly net sweeps capturing the isle’s sleepy ambience in ‘Once You Have It,’ to the shimmering shorelights of ‘Viejo Roble del Camino’ that draw the album’s velvet curtains to a close. Where the backdrops feel still, ancient, natural, Nueen channels a gently vibrant human energy via his melodic and harmonic signature, with daubs of field recordings lending an intangible effervescence to the the tip-of-tongue strings in ‘Centro Gris,’ and with sparing use of percussion and subs giving it a sort of subliminal drive and saline buoyancy, especially in the skin-stroking bliss of ‘Hum.’

RSD album now available at a slightly cheaper price. Double Transparent Violet Coloured vinyl & DL card. 1000 copies pressed. Fist time on vinyl. Double debut from Howe Gelb’s one-off project that features members or Arcade Fire, Grandaddy, Scout Niblett and M Ward among others. Featuring extensive notes and interviews with the collaborators, exploring how the whole thing was put together.

Bill Gage is a quasi-famous singer with a raw, rock ’n’ roll voice.
Cheater Slicks are an infamous, raw, rock ’n’ roll band. Put the two
together and the resulting album is a stream-of-conscious stew of
wild, fuzz-drenched rock ’n’ roll!
Some history: both Cheater Slicks and Bill Gage’s band BILL
began in Boston in 1987, and it was sometime around then that Gage
first sang with Tom and David Shannon playing guitars, in Gage’s
bedroom in Laconia, New Hampshire. It was an intense and primal
sound that was not forgotten by those involved.
Gage’s singing has been compared to Captain Beefheart, David
Thomas, Damo Suzuki, and Yoko Ono. However, Gage clearly has his
own sound, which includes guttural yells, sweet crooning, and bluesy
meanderings—all seemingly told from a tarpaper shack porch under
the oceans of Mars.
Cheater Slicks have from the start been a brain-melting rock ‘n’ roll
dream / nightmare of a band. Steeped in the wild guitar interplay and
pounding drums of classic noisy underground rock groups (Cramps,
Scientists, Velvet Underground), they have created their own unique
and ever-evolving style that has only gotten deeper and sharper over
the years.
In spring 2018, when Cheater Slicks were presented with the idea
of a collaborative record with Gage, they wasted no time, and began
writing and arranging new songs for the project. Gage traveled to
Columbus to record at the legendary Musicol studios in November of
that year. It was a great session and came together as if it were always
meant to be. After thirty years of performing, is the world finally ready
for Bill Gage—accompanied by the seismic Cheater Slicks?
All profits from this record will benefit the Arts Resources programs
of the National Association for Down Syndrome.

Composed, produced, and arranged by Eartheater alone, Phoenix: Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin draws a path back to the primordial lava lake from which she first emerged, as it also testifies to the reincarnating resurrections the project has undergone over its first full decade of existence. While the album renews her focus on guitar performance and legible structure, Eartheater balances the unabashed prettiness of acoustic harmonic songs with the dissonant gestural embroidery of oblique instrumentals. Having fallen back in love with the idioms that first captivated her, she worked to crack open the techniques that had fossilized inside of her, while still seeking to apply the electro-alchemical knowledge she picked up along her journey. The result of a laborious revival in fire, Phoenix recontextualizes Eartheater’s combinatorial approach to production within her most confident abstractions, adjacent to some of her most direct songs to date.

Eartheater composed and workshopped most of Phoenix over a ten-week artist residency (FUGA) in Zaragoza, Spain, housed in a sprawling, cubic glass facility that looked out over wildflower-flecked mountains. Following an intensive period of recording and touring, the residency provided her with an unprecedented period of solitude in the small Spanish town. Her newfound sense of isolation ultimately became liberating, leading her to sidestep the crutches and steady grids inherent to electronic music, and to conceive pieces rooted in her guitar and her desire to perform with other players live.

Eartheater’s voice glows brighter than ever at the center of Phoenix’s arrangements — her familiar operatic highs are grounded by newly expanded velvety lows, leaping lucidly up and down octaves. Her intricate guitar work flits across baroque fingerpicked passages and latches into cyclical figures that meet her voice in lush harmonic progressions. From her own guitar parts, to the orchestral string arrangements she wrote for the Spanish conservatory group Ensemble de Camara, to the harp and violin lines performed by her close friends and collaborators Marilu Donovan and Adam Markiewicz of LEYA, Eartheater’s applications of acoustic instruments bring an extraordinary emotional emphasis to her compositions. Phoenix prepares for a future where electronic sound — or even electricity itself — isn’t guaranteed, but where her music could still come to life with a group of hands dexterously winding across instruments against the light of the fire. Eartheater drew inspiration for Phoenix from geological imagery, whose turbulence and potential for genesis mirror the trajectory of her own life and relationships. The album’s instrumental pieces directly reference these moments of upheaval, colliding audio of volcano and lightning storms with resplendent string and vocal arrangements. “Volcano” looks out over the album from its peak at the center, its tectonic plates colliding in towering melodies and layers of vocal harmonies, as piano accents crest and cascade down the mountainside. When Eartheater sings, “I’m still building mountains underground,” she is trying to reconcile the pinnacles of her ambition with the comforts of a simple existence buried beneath the surface. “Diamond in the Bedrock” finds her admiring the gemstone forming under intense pressure inside her, but rejecting the romantic promise that the diamond signifies, choosing instead to escape a relationship that has come to stifle her.

With the album’s subtitle, Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin, Eartheater imagines being tempered to a state of perfect equilibrium, suspended between melting and freezing, where fire could streak across her body and appear as a crystalline blush. This image captures the tension at the heart of the Eartheater project, as she decides how best to distill her passion and render it cool to the touch; to find beauty in simple pleasure, while keeping one eye fixed on the peaks that loom in the horizon. The album is mixed by Kiri Stensby and mastered by Heba Kadry, featuring photography by Daniel Sannwald.