quête:about 2

A long-lost Japanese acid folk gem, Niningashi’s 1974 private press debut Heavy Way shimmers with originality, deft song writing and a dream-like groove.

Although he was training as a pharmacist, Kazuhisa Okubo was much more interested in prescribing musical medicine.
A coming-of-age album, Heavy Way captured a turning point in Okubo’s life, and Japanese society more widely as a nostalgia for the pastoral calm of the traditional life, met the cosmopolitan thrill of coffee, sex and cigarettes in the big city.
Intoxicated by Tokyo, driven by a passion for music and surrounded by a thriving acid folk scene, the young student filtered his experiences through a psychedelic cocktail of soulful influences from the US and Japan.
Niningashi was his first band, and Heavy Way was their only album. It was honest and raw, deep and strangely funky, in an off-beat kind of way. Across nine tracks, Okubo and the 6-piece band put their own spin on the new folk sound of Japan, combining witty lyrics with electric guitar-driven solos and crisp, understated grooves.

Melancholy and profound, opening track ‘Ameagari’ feels like a synthesis of Harvest-era Neil Young and Haruomi Hosono’s Happy End. Then there’s the whimsical washboard country sound of ‘Semai Boku No Heyade’; the moody, low-lit charm of ‘Restaurant’; and ‘Hitoribotchi’, a sensitive portrayal of childhood, steeped in memories of rainfall that will resonate with fans of Woo and Mac Demarco.
While Okubo would go on to taste success with psychedelic folk bands Neko and Kaze, the latter of which scored three #1 albums, little is known about his mysterious debut with Niningashi.
Self-released by Okubo in 1974, and featuring album artwork by his brother, it has slowly generated a cult following online, intrigued by its soft and enchanting sound. So few records were ultimately pressed that those remaining have fetched up to £1,500 online.

Featured on Time Capsule’s era-spanning collection Nippon Acid Folk, Niningashi’s Heavy Way is a deep-cut grail of a vibrant time in Japan’s musical history, where even the pharmacists were making jams.

DJ Haram's debut album “Beside Myself” is about the survival of the spirit in day to day struggle. Following on from her collaboration with Moor Mother as 700 Bliss on “Nothing to Declare”, here she is joined by a swarm of collaborators, collectively navigating pain and rage, and in occasional moments of joyful respite, mocking the strife. Haram describes herself as a “multidisciplinary propagandist, contemporary anti-authoritarian Arab, gendered labor class, god fearing atheist” who makes “anti-format, audio propaganda, anti-lifestyle, immersive sonics”. Her music attests to this, as she brings in friends and collaborators, from MC's Armand Hammer, Bbymutha, SHA RAY, Moor Mother, and Dakn, through to co-producers August Fanon, Egyptian producer El Kontessa, and Jersey Club producer Kay Drizz, trumpeter Aquiles Navarro, and guitarist Abdul Hakim Bilal. It's immediately identifiable as her work, but simultaneously unclassifiable, finding equal space in its dusty live production for Jersey Club, punk noise, Central Asian and Middle Eastern Percussion, synths, 808's and lurking, rumbling bass. Often central to this is her own performance of unflinching sorrowful verses, comparable to the poets Audrey Lorde or Ai in tone and Kim Gordon in context, examining the material and the abstract in equal measure. Her grungy futurism offers no easy resolutions, yet the drama and catharsis it presents is rarely so defiantly delivered.

‘Moiré’ is the second album by French musician and singer Charlotte Leclerc. Charlotte's songs are like those little details of everyday life that you discover when you slow down the pace of your busy day. She uses the sound of her machines to tell us about human relationships. Relationships between two people and universal relationships. The ones that connect us all and make this planet run a little more smoothly.

Thee modern masters of sweet soul return with two killer 6/8 ballads that explore the messy particulars of love lost and love found. The moody, blues forward “Somebody Knew” tackles the former as singer Josh Lane bares his soul with a tale about a sensitive subject many of us can relate to- processing the shame and pain associated with losing the one you love to another. Tracked during the sessions for Got A Story to Tell and a stand out in their live set, “We Don’t Have to Be Alone” is a gorgeous, floaty ballad that deals with two folks coming to terms with the fact that it’s ok to find comfort and joy in love at a provisional level.

Congratulations, Electro connoisseur! You are about to enter the Electrifying Dojo. A place where Sifu pdqb and Sensei Rolando teach a transcendental, one-of-a-kind neo-futuristic martial art that does not use hands but something far more delicate and powerful: MUSIC.

Blending martial discipline with the art of electronic music is something deeper, something that no words can properly describe. The skills you will be taught here are feeling music, embodying it. pdqb and Rolando believe that true harmony comes when the mind, body, and soul are united in the sounds that vibrate through the air.

The sounds of this first lesson are soft at first, almost imperceptible. But then they grow into a delicate, trembling melody that fills the room with an emotion that is difficult to place. It isn’t sadness, nor is it joy, but something in between. The more you listen, the more you will be aware of something strange: tears will fall gently, silently. They are not forced, nor are they out of sorrow - it is simply because the music feels so beautiful. Your deepest emotions will be triggered, every note will carry out an old truth, a secret truth, buried deep in your heart.

Another quality drop from Synaptic Cliffs. 4 dark and beautiful signature-style Electrocognition journeys from pdqb, playful with a modern twist while still remaining loyal to its roots. And on the flipside: two stunning, classic Rolando remixes, each with the potential to be the crowning moment in the club.

"Against all odds!" ETERNAL DARKNESS bass player since 2019 Jeff Hausel knows what he's talking about. It took this cult death/doom Swedish mob thirty-five years to finally come up with their first proper album, only to see them splitting on the eve of its official release on Pulverised Records. But make no mistake: formed way back in Eskilstuna, Sweden in 1990 and revered ever since as one of Scandinavia most uncompromised death/doom entity ever, their self-titled full-length - produced, recorded and mixed by longtime friend and CRYPT OF KERBEROS/TYRANT guitar player Peter Bjärgö in their former rehearsal room - is probably the heaviest, as in HEAVIEST, thing you'll hear this year. Joining for the occasion the original members Make Pesonen (drums) and Janne Heikkinen (vocals) are John Carlsson on lead guitar (ETERNAL AUTUMN), Kristian Henriksson on rhythm guitar (UNPURE, SVARTSYN) and Jeff Hausel on bass. Eight brand new songs, written in between 2019 and 2024, marked by personal tragedy and about "the process of death, loss and grief", completed by the aptly chosen famous Italian 14th century tapestry, Triumph Of Death. Maybe their last move but talk about leaving with a bang. In Death!

Best of' albums are invariably repackaged collections of old recordings, so Vice Squad's `Punk Rockers' is a breath of fresh air The songs have been lovingly recorded and remastered, keeping all the original fire and adding decades of experience gained from punishing tours and continuous songwriting Beki is the original architect of the songs and the Vice Squad name, and she is the sole surviving member of the original lineup to have continued as a full-time musician Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious `If I Knew What I Know Now' and `The World Is Wrong' are examples of Vice Squad's ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, `Battle of Britain', showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent `If I Knew What I Know Now', followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister `Out of Reach'. Next up is the visceral `Get A Life', an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic `Resurrection'. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of `Allergy' underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime `Sniffing Glue', a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. `Ordinary Girl' is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. `The World Is Wrong' is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It's always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, `Citizen', and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal `Scarred For Life'. `Voice of the People' is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, `Freedom of speech is against the law; now we're all criminals,' snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. `Punk Police' sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, `Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,' call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, `Humane', and I'm struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome 'Spitfire' takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into `Born In A War', the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the `Last Rockers', the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.'

Best of' albums are invariably repackaged collections of old recordings, so Vice Squad's `Punk Rockers' is a breath of fresh air The songs have been lovingly recorded and remastered, keeping all the original fire and adding decades of experience gained from punishing tours and continuous songwriting Beki is the original architect of the songs and the Vice Squad name, and she is the sole surviving member of the original lineup to have continued as a full-time musician Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious `If I Knew What I Know Now' and `The World Is Wrong' are examples of Vice Squad's ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, `Battle of Britain', showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent `If I Knew What I Know Now', followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister `Out of Reach'. Next up is the visceral `Get A Life', an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic `Resurrection'. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of `Allergy' underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime `Sniffing Glue', a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. `Ordinary Girl' is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. `The World Is Wrong' is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It's always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, `Citizen', and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal `Scarred For Life'. `Voice of the People' is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, `Freedom of speech is against the law; now we're all criminals,' snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. `Punk Police' sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, `Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,' call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, `Humane', and I'm struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome 'Spitfire' takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into `Born In A War', the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the `Last Rockers', the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.'

Bruch once again proves to be a grim and bighearted crooner and multi-layered genre-bender between repetitive pulsating electronic music and brilliant organ minimalism, between destructive rock'n'roll and world-embracing pop. Bruch is Philipp Hanich's alter ego as a music producer. Born and raised in Munich / Germany, he has been living and working in Vienna / Austria as a visual artist and musician for 20 years now. He is equipped with a long pedigree of DIY-counterculture, gathered since the early 2000s whilst touring with different bands, creating off-spaces and co-running the labels Totally Wired Records (2012-2016) and Cut Surface (since 2016). The Harbour of the Broken Hearted (THOTBH) can be a state of mind, ramshackle but transcendent. Oscillating between the repetitive pulses of electronic music and organ-orchestrated minimalism, Bruch throws out comforting loops of sound just like fishing nets, that suck you into his stories unwaveringly. His evocative and unadorned vocal style adds to Bruch's depth, soul and sincerity. Drifting and driven amidst uplifting gloom. At times, solemnly striding against foggy and dogmatic black-and-white-thinking, rearing up in opulent resistance, then again just hopelessly beautiful and achingly wistful. Occasionally, Bruch's laid-back observations can also end in a wild ride. By introducing The Crusher, Bruch enters the harbour with full sails of self-reflexion - and we realize, sometimes it's all just about having to endure yourself. Or_ is it all about love? In the end, each and every of THOTBH's songs turns out to have a cathartic quality. Bruch's THOTBH might not be a safe space, but it accepts us as we are. With our doubts, our own frailties and our shortcomings. No need for embarrassment within the fragile. No need for shame and fear in expression. No need to shy away from creating something beautiful. You better learn to spell ,Sehnsucht" - as it turns out to be the everlasting keyword!

‘Idealism’ is an album about navigating life in the 2020s as millennial adults, and all the difficulties and uncertainties that come with that - knowing you’ll probably never be able to afford to buy a house, and that a simple grocery shop costs way more than ever before. But it’s also about all the joys and positives of modern life too - being kind to yourself, being kind to other people, and overcoming difficulties.
The band tries to capture that dichotomy on this album, hence the title ‘Idealism’, which the dictionary says is “the unrealistic belief in or pursuit of perfection”.
The album has been a long time in the making, diligently demoed before tracking across studios in London & Essex. Taking a more pop production approach, layering parts and additional keyboards, synthesisers and percussion to add a richer and fuller sound to their traditional indie rock set up.
Nostalgia has always been a running theme for Don’t Worry, as displayed on 2022’s ‘Remorseless Swing’ and 2018 debut album ‘Who Cares Anyway?’. There’s a decent dose of it on this new album still, including on the cover, with a photograph taken in their home of Harlow New Town in 2001 by Jim Brown. And in their musical influences, Pavement, Pixies, Smashing Pumpkins, The Streets, Fleetwood Mac, UK Grime and The GTA Vice City Soundtrack (alongside contemporary influences such as Fontaines D.C., MJ Lenderman, Andy Shauf).
But perhaps for the first time on this album, they push through the comfort of the past, embrace the present and look forward to the future with hope.

Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’ and ‘The World Is Wrong’ are examples of Vice Squad’s ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, ‘Battle of Britain’, showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’, followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister ‘Out of Reach’. Next up is the visceral ‘Get A Life’, an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic ‘Resurrection’. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of ‘Allergy’ underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime ‘Sniffing Glue’, a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. ‘Ordinary Girl’ is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. ‘The World Is Wrong’ is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It’s always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, ‘Citizen’, and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal ‘Scarred For Life’. ‘Voice of the People’ is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, ‘Freedom of speech is against the law; now we’re all criminals,’ snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. ‘Punk Police’ sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, ‘Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,’ call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, ‘Humane’, and I’m struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome ’Spitfire’ takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into ‘Born In A War’, the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the ‘Last Rockers’, the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.' The four bonus CD tracks kick off with ‘Coward’, another teen Bateman/Bond composition. ‘No You Don’t’ is just over two minutes of vocal acrobatics over a Dexedrine-driven Devo-esque chord sequence, and the frantically brilliant ‘I Dare To Breathe’ from ‘Battle of Britain’ continues the aural assault. Then the final sombre entreaty of ‘You Can’t Buy Back The Dead’ warns us that ‘Enough’s never enough; absolute power will corrupt; the war machine still rumbles on’ before fading into the future.

SASSYHIYA want to take you somewhere. The journey starts in Kathy and Helen's flat in South London. Sit down, close your eyes, and immerse yourself... You are on your way to a musical rainforest a long way from Camberwell. Explore your new surroundings, and you will find beautiful pop blooms like Let's See What We Can Find, as bright and vibrant as The Sundays, thrusting their colourful faces up from the forest floor. You'll find tangles of sharp-edged guitar, as if Swiss she-punks Kleenex had been left to evolve here in the rich fertile soil (I Had A Thought). You'll find dark pools full of lyrical complexity, deceptively deep and immersive, with shimmering reflections of The Go-Betweens (Perennial). And you'll come across delicate love songs, creeping up the trunks and branches of the bass and drums, displaying their fragile beauty (Thank You And Goodbye). And what's that exotic striped animal prowling through the undergrowth? Actually, it's Crayon Potato, Sassyhiya's pet cat, the other resident of their flat in South London, taking up her role as the feline star of a lilting, singalong anthem written in her honour. That's what is so great about this album. You are somehow, simultaneously, exploring the most exotic forest in the world while also sitting in a flat in an ordinary, familiar English street with Sassyhiya and their cat. This album transports you without pretending the real world doesn't exist: it doesn't get all mystical on you (Take You Somewhere is as unlike Enya as anything you've heard). Sometimes you might be reminded of Girls At Our Best, and then Delta 5. You might even, on occasion, think of Echo and the Bunnymen. Sassyhiya (pronounced "Sassy Hiya") were formed when Helen and Kathy, real-life partners and co-songwriters, joined up with Pablo and Neil (drums and guitar). Helen had previously been in Boys Forever and Basic Plumbing, collaborating with much-missed Veronica Falls musician Patrick Doyle. She and Kathy then formed Barry, a stripped-down queercore outfit, with Bart McDonagh (The Male Gays) and Mark Amura (My Executive Dysfunction). Sassyhiya feels like a culmination of all these elements, hitting the sweet spot between post-punk and indie pop. They know their way around a melody but still keep it wonky, with influences ranging from the Breeders and Broadcast to Dolly Parton.

“My hero’s back,” Madeline Kenney sings on the second track of her newest effort, Kiss from the Balcony. In a sense, she means herself; made with friends Ben Sloan and Stephen Patota across just a few in-person studio sessions in Oakland, these tracks represent a culmination of Madeline’s musings on growth and resilience reaching back years, brought to life through this generative and vibrant collaboration. Close listeners can hear the breadth of stylistic elements and themes carried through from various eras of her work, which all come together in a cohesive and timeless record.

In two week-long intensive sessions, the three collaborators grew these nine songs from fragments, sketches, and seeds. With a background in experimental percussion and sound design, Ben Sloan brings an electronic sound to Kenney’s writing; Stephen Patota provides ingenious guitar melodies throughout and grounds the project in acoustic elements. Kiss from the Balcony was originally intended to be an EP, but the sessions brought forth such fruitful ideation and play that the project was expanded to a full length album. It sits in Madeline’s discography as a thematic and musical progression that sees her iterate on ideas about love and explore new sonic motifs through her work with Patota and Sloan.

Much of Kiss from the Balcony is a meditation on modern relationships, a feminist and utterly human contemplation of power and who holds it. “Hereditary backward leaning,” she describes in ‘Slap,’ of the female condition; “But no-one ever likes to see the girls break down / So they keep it to the bathroom floor” she sings in the rapturous opener, ‘Scoop.’ While the songs are shrouded in metaphor, the ubiquity of heartbreak and resilience decode much of the internal conflict Kenney depicts. The album sees her recognize the precarity and peculiarity of life and take it by the horns, realizing she controls her own narrative:


She explores the relationships between joy and suffering, choosing to see them as inseparable, two sides of a single coin. “It’s never over / When will they love me?” Kenney asks on ‘They Go Wide,’ describing her positionality both as a woman in relationship and as an indie artist in the modern music industry.

A playful hopefulness pervades the record, providing a sense of revelation in the journey throughout, Kenney’s radical acceptance of life as it is like a lyrical tongue out at the absurd.

Margarita Witch Cult captured lightning in a bottle with their 2023 debut- a blink-and-you'll-miss-it behemoth that saw the band thrash and burn through Europe and the UK, picking up legions of fans and touring with the likes of Cancer Bats, Monster Magnet and Nebula. Now, the Birmingham trio are set to pick their teeth with the bones of their own past- as their second LP 'Strung Out In Hell' takes everything that was so compelling about their debut and turns the knob up to 11; rips off the knob; throws the knob into the fires of hell and cackles maniacally in the wake of its demoniacal glory. From top-to-tail, 'Strung Out In Hell' is a cloven hoof to the chest; a dizzying descent through infernus. It will caress you only to chew you up and spit you out. It is the soundtrack to the afterparty of all life on earth. Succumb to its sordid siren song. Bolder, stranger, and downright more mean, there's no better time to jump on the Margarita Witch Cult train- and it's going straight down, fast.

Gold Nugget Vinyl, limited to 400 copies. Margarita Witch Cult captured lightning in a bottle with their 2023 debut- a blink-and-you'll-miss-it behemoth that saw the band thrash and burn through Europe and the UK, picking up legions of fans and touring with the likes of Cancer Bats, Monster Magnet and Nebula. Now, the Birmingham trio are set to pick their teeth with the bones of their own past- as their second LP 'Strung Out In Hell' takes everything that was so compelling about their debut and turns the knob up to 11; rips off the knob; throws the knob into the fires of hell and cackles maniacally in the wake of its demoniacal glory. From top-to-tail, 'Strung Out In Hell' is a cloven hoof to the chest; a dizzying descent through infernus. It will caress you only to chew you up and spit you out. It is the soundtrack to the afterparty of all life on earth. Succumb to its sordid siren song. Bolder, stranger, and downright more mean, there's no better time to jump on the Margarita Witch Cult train- and it's going straight down, fast.

Carrying on the long tradition of sentimental jangle pop songwriters, Lightheaded distil decades of lovelorn tunes into sounds for modern softies. They have the sunshine sparkle of The Left Banke and Margo Guryan, the C86 charm of Dolly Mixture and Would-Be-Goods, and the cinematic swell of Belle & Sebastian and Camera Obscura. Formed on the shore of New Jersey in 2017 by Cynthia Rittenbach and Stephen Stec, Lightheaded took time to hone their sound with a rotating crew of drummers, guitarists and backup vocalists. They found a community of like-minded bands in a vast but tight-knit international indie pop scene, which eventually led them to the iconic California label Slumberland Records. Their debut cassette EP Good Good Great!, a collection of five perfect pop songs, landed in 2023, followed by the full-length Combustible Gems in 2024. A European tour and gigs opening for bands like Heavenly, The Softies and The Ladybug Transistor rounded out their breakout year. Thinking, Dreaming, Scheming is their most collaborative and earnest release to date. A side of five brand new songs is combined with the five tracks from Good Good Great!, now available on vinyl for the first time. Recorded bi-coastally with Gary Olson (The Ladybug Transistor) and Alicia Vanden Heuvel (The Aislers Set, Poundsign) and drenched in lush reverb on tape by Fred Thomas (Saturday Looks Good to Me), the new songs are rendered in a dreamy soft focus that perfectly suits their starry-eyed themes. Adding to all the fun are the cameos and contributions from the new generation of New York indie pop goodness, featuring members of Starcleaner Reunion and Trinket, pushing the songs on this record to a high point in the young band's discography. There is something unusual about this band - something truly special.

2025 is a special Britpop anniversary year, and Swansea Sound are keen to celebrate this summer’s coming together of every single music-lover in the UK with the release of their new single Oasis v Blur.
The song probably sounds more like The Fall getting into bed with The Sweet, but that’s just the way it turned out.
The B side, Pacio’r Fan, is about a journey back to a remembered teenage time, when idealism still burned and the world was full of potential. It is a wistful song, but it’s hopeful too: the idealistic flame is still there if you seek it out.
The release date of Oasis v Blur coincides with Swansea Sound’s live performance at the reasonably-priced Skep Wax Weekender, alongside label-mates including Sassyhiya, The Gentle Spring, Jeanines and Heavenly.
Swansea Sound have released two albums, several singles and have recorded live radio sessions for BBC6Music and WFMU (New York). They are Hue Williams and Amelia Fletcher (who both sang in The Pooh Sticks), Rob Pursey (in Heavenly with Amelia), Bob Collins (of The Dentists), Ian Button (The Night Mail, Papernut Cambridge, Death In Vegas ) and artist Catrin James (The Loves).

It was in such a dense and impenetrable darkness that Lake of Tears must have been
born.
And their debut album is immersed in this darkness. It was baptized "Greater Art" and
indeed the title sets the tone for what was to follow. Yes, it is a higher art, it was and is
something different. Although there are infuences from other Swedish bands of the
time, such as Tiamat, or even death metal elements, what is certain is that their doom
metal brought to the fore something new, fresh and completely innovative.
We won't go into the process of choosing any songs, as we've said it before, Lake of
Tears never included indifferent compositions on any album. However, we can't help
but make a small exception when talking about the magnifcent epic " Upon The
Highest Mountain ", which in itself would be an excellent reason to purchase the
album.
We are proud to release Lake of Tears ' debut on vinyl after 31 years. For the older
generation to remember and the younger generation to discover. Because what these
Swedes made here, three decades ago, stands as an immortal monument. Is it doom
metal? Does it have death metal infuences? Is it gothic metal? Yes, but it sounds a bit
different...Who really cares?
It was then that the magnifcent prologue was written, becoming the beginning of
everything that was to follow. And hold on... the epilogue hasn't been written yet...

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.