Buscar:art brut

black midi, das sind Geordie Greep (Gitarre, Gesang), Cameron Picton (Bass, Gesang) und Morgan Simpson (Schlagzeug), ihr 3. Album "Hellfire" erscheint am 15. Juli auf Rough Trade Records. Die erste Single daraus hat den wohligen Titel "Welcome To Hell". "Hellfire" wurde nach der Veröffentlichung des Vorgängers "Cavalcade" in London in Abgeschiedenheit geschrieben und baut auf den melodischen und harmonischen Elementen des Vorgängers auf, während es die Brutalität und Intensität des Debüts "Schlagenheim" ausbaut. Wie Greep es beschreibt: "Wenn Cavalcade ein Drama war, ist "Hellfire" wie ein epischer Action-Film", der sich mit überlappenden Themen wie Schmerz, Verlust und Angst beschäftigt. Es ist ihr bisher thematisch kohärentestes und durchdachtestes Album". Während die Geschichten von "Cavalcade" in der dritten Person geschildert wurden, erzählt "Hellfire" seine Geschichten aus der Ich-Perspektive eines moralisch fragwürdigen Charakters. Es gibt direkte dramatische Monologe, die an unser verkommenes Gefühl für Recht und Unrecht appellieren. Man ist sich nie so ganz sicher, ob man lachen oder entsetzt sein soll. "Welcome To Hell" erzählt die Geschichte der Exzesse eines ausschweifenden Soldaten und seiner Entlassung aus dem Militärdienst, untermalt von funkigen Gitarrensätzen, treibenden Bläsern und einem knorrigen Gesang. Das Video wurde von Gustaf Holtenäs gedreht, der auch schon beim Video zu "Slow" Regie führte. Die Entstehung von "Hellfire" dauerte nur sechs Monate und begann mit einem Riff bei einem Jam der Gruppe, das sich zu dem futuristischen Boxdrama "Sugar/Tzu" entwickelte. Die Bandbreite und die Kraft sowie die starke Produktion der Musik von black midi war noch nie so groß wie auf dem neuen Album, was zum Teil der Produzentin Marta Salogni zu verdanken ist, die mit der Band bereits am "Cavalcade"-Opener "John L" gearbeitet hat. Aber wie immer ist die Art der Musik, die black midi spielen, nicht so wichtig wie ihre Qualität. Und was auch immer du über die Musik von black midi denkst, ist es wichtig, was du dabei fühlst, wenn du sie wirklich hörst.

black midi, das sind Geordie Greep (Gitarre, Gesang), Cameron Picton (Bass, Gesang) und Morgan Simpson (Schlagzeug), ihr 3. Album "Hellfire" erscheint am 15. Juli auf Rough Trade Records. Die erste Single daraus hat den wohligen Titel "Welcome To Hell". "Hellfire" wurde nach der Veröffentlichung des Vorgängers "Cavalcade" in London in Abgeschiedenheit geschrieben und baut auf den melodischen und harmonischen Elementen des Vorgängers auf, während es die Brutalität und Intensität des Debüts "Schlagenheim" ausbaut. Wie Greep es beschreibt: "Wenn Cavalcade ein Drama war, ist "Hellfire" wie ein epischer Action-Film", der sich mit überlappenden Themen wie Schmerz, Verlust und Angst beschäftigt. Es ist ihr bisher thematisch kohärentestes und durchdachtestes Album". Während die Geschichten von "Cavalcade" in der dritten Person geschildert wurden, erzählt "Hellfire" seine Geschichten aus der Ich-Perspektive eines moralisch fragwürdigen Charakters. Es gibt direkte dramatische Monologe, die an unser verkommenes Gefühl für Recht und Unrecht appellieren. Man ist sich nie so ganz sicher, ob man lachen oder entsetzt sein soll. "Welcome To Hell" erzählt die Geschichte der Exzesse eines ausschweifenden Soldaten und seiner Entlassung aus dem Militärdienst, untermalt von funkigen Gitarrensätzen, treibenden Bläsern und einem knorrigen Gesang. Das Video wurde von Gustaf Holtenäs gedreht, der auch schon beim Video zu "Slow" Regie führte. Die Entstehung von "Hellfire" dauerte nur sechs Monate und begann mit einem Riff bei einem Jam der Gruppe, das sich zu dem futuristischen Boxdrama "Sugar/Tzu" entwickelte. Die Bandbreite und die Kraft sowie die starke Produktion der Musik von black midi war noch nie so groß wie auf dem neuen Album, was zum Teil der Produzentin Marta Salogni zu verdanken ist, die mit der Band bereits am "Cavalcade"-Opener "John L" gearbeitet hat. Aber wie immer ist die Art der Musik, die black midi spielen, nicht so wichtig wie ihre Qualität. Und was auch immer du über die Musik von black midi denkst, ist es wichtig, was du dabei fühlst, wenn du sie wirklich hörst.

It took a while, but Coincidence is back on vinyl. And how: Serbian producer and DJ Lag teams up with Belgian BEOT on the 'Patience EP' - a title that turned into a bit of a prophecy as vinyl production seemed to take ages to cut through the red tape and production issues spiralled out of control. The EP is conceptualised around two original tracks from each artist. And in return, they remixed each other's work. Four tracks, four vibes, one EP. Get you some of that!

'Rokenrol' opens the A side with a massive drumroll infusion. Unbelievable funky, wild, distorted and straight to the feet of anyone standing on the dance floor: Lag delivers his signature dish. The second track by BEOT, titled 'Problem of Conduct', is dark, slow, dirty and nasty. Almost minimalistic although beneath the surface, an absolute belter lurks an snaps at anyone daring to venture too close.

On the other side, the remixes take the originals to a completely different vibe. Lag's remix of 'Problem of Conduct' keeps the dark vibe, but thrives on a massive broken beat and eerie atmosphere. This sounds brutal on a big sound system. BEOT's remix of 'Rokenrol' on the other hand dumps the funky drums and goes for the heavy straightforward approach. The result is an absolute growling distorted noise monster that simply is amazing and effective.

We hope you like the EP as much as we do.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Cave dwellers TEMPLE OF VOID finally return from the inky abyss on their highly anticipated new album, Summoning the Slayer. The critically acclaimed, Michigan-based quintet—featuring Alex Awn (guitars), Don Durr (guitars), Mike Erdody (vocals), Jason Pearce (drums), and Brent Satterly (bass)—hunkered down during the last two years, expanding upon their brand of fusty, artfully brutish death-doom with equal parts process and imagination. The outcome is an album that feels massive yet sepulchral, exploratory yet distinguishable—as if crafted deep below and inspired by all the things (mentally and physically) that come with their subterranean endeavor. Summoning the Slayer creepily evolves TEMPLE OF VOID. Produced, mixed, and mastered by Arthur Rizk (Power Trip, Sumerlands, Candy, and more,) Summoning the Slayer pairs long-time influences and a bevy of non-metal vectors into hulking columns of heavy and desolation. Focus tracks “Deathtouch,” “Hex Curse,” and “The Transcending Horror” showcases TEMPLE OF VOID’s death-doom at its heights and their massive, crushing lows. But the group’s fourth album is more than that. The album’s capper, “Dissolution,” is one example of the Detroiters stretching out, the song’s ‘70s rock/singer-songwriter motifs hitting The Moody Blues and Nick Drake hard. Lyrically, Summoning the Slayer eschews commonplace horror tropes with a deeper, broader psychological discussion of the self. TEMPLE OF VOID’s ultimate death-doom metal journey is now complete.

The Unique Leader debut from one of the fastest rising names in American Deathcore - following their seminal US tour with Lorna Shore, CROWN MAGNETAR unleash their lightspeed brand of nightmarish brutality. Essential for fans of Beneath the Massacre, Lorna Shore, Thy Art is Murder.

Tribal electronics, dubby downbeat, sedated house and disoriented breaks coming from Molto Brutto's Andreas Kunzmann. Following on from his essential reissue of II aka Molto Brutto's feverish and freaky second LP, Basso fires up the Growing Bin lathe for a further foray into AK's eccentric catalogue. Recorded between 1998-2005 and unreleased until now, these genre-fluid tracks retain the unorthodox charm central to the Austrian's art. Sometimes dancing is just falling to music, and Andreas lives the life unbalanced.

Als REGENER PAPPIK BUSCH überraschten Sven Regener (Trompete), Richard Pappik (Schlagzeug) und Ekki Busch (Klavier), alle drei bekannt als Musiker der Gruppe ELEMENT OF CRIME im letzten Jahr mit „Ask Me Now“, einer Jazzplatte der ganz besonderen Art. Und gelangten damit auch gleich an die Spitze der Deutschen Jazz Charts im Monat März.

Nun legen sie nach mit „Things To Come“. Und auch auf dem zweiten Album bleiben sie ihrem Konzept treu: Klassikern des Modernen Jazz eine neue, eigenwillige, vor allem aber auch wilde und exzentrische
Interpretation zu geben.

REGENER PAPPIK BUSCH sind ein durchaus ungewöhnliches Trio.
Der Sound ist zuweilen hart und direkt, zuweilen aber auch ausgesprochen zärtlich und cool. Sie schlängeln sich - zwischen Minimalismus, musikalischem Brutalismus und Jazzklassizismus changierend - durch ein Repertoire ausgesprochen berühmter Stücke von Thelonius Monk, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Miles
Davis, Ornette Coleman et alteri und drücken ihnen ihren eigenen, unverwechselbaren Stempel auf. Der Blues als Brücke, als wichtiges Element, gepaart mit der Liebe zum Modernen, zum etwas Schrägen, zum Avantgardistischen, was sowohl ELEMENT OF CRIME im Rock, als auch REGENER PAPPIK BUSCH im Jazz auszeichnet.

Years in the making – ‘Hillbillies In Hell’ (13) presents 16 timeless tribulations - a Lovecraftian clutch of Ancient Terrors, Sinful Seductions, Grinding Poverty, Debilitating Disfigurement, Hell's Eternal Maze of Hardships and God's Blazing Light of Redemption.

A misty shroud of marginal 45s - some of these sides are impossibly rare and are reissued here for the very first time. All for your cautionary listening pleasure.

SEE Little Richard Miller witness THE FIRE CAME DOWN! HEAR Dee Mullins declare I AM THE GRASS! ATTEST to Eddie Noack's brutal final fate in BARBARA JOY!

The Carter Family - 2001 (Ballad To The Future), Henson Cargill - Skip A Rope, Porter Wagoner - Julie, Eddie Noack - Barbara Joy, Waylon Jennings - The Road, Sammi Smith - Birmingham Mistake, Norma Jean - One's On The Way, Wendy Bagwell And The Sunliters - This Train, Dee Mullins - I Am The Grass, Hank Thompson And The Brazos Valley Boys - I Cast A Lonesome Shadow, Porter Wagoner - Lonely Comin' Down, Henson Cargill - The Pain Will Go Away, The Carter Family - Poison Red Berries, Bobby Bare - When I've Learned, Roger Miller - I Know Who It Is (And I'm Gonna Tell On Him), Little Richard Miller - The Fire Came Down

RIYL: Beach House, Cocteau Twins, Cigarettes After Sex, Slowdive. Isolated from any kind of music scene and enveloped by the cold Brutalism of Preston, White Flowers are a young, enigmatic band developing their own eccentricities away from the influence of big cities. New EP ‘Are You’ is a sonic and aesthetic collage drawing deeply from their environmental and social surroundings. The songs on the EP may at first seem delicate and beautiful, but closer listening reveals dark undertones and dry humour fuelled by the frustration of feeling trapped with no way out. Driven by this sense of claustrophobia, the duo have sought to create a form of escapism outside of their physical and geographical limitations. Recorded late 2021 between Preston and Bristol, ‘Are You’ weaves together a mixture of intuitive home recordings and refined studio production aided by producer Ali Chant (PJ Harvey, Portishead, Perfume Genius). The four songs on the EP are an intentional collection of contrasts and paradoxes - beauty and repulsion, calmness and mania, anxiety and stasis - all combined to form a balanced whole. Whilst influenced in part by the writings of the late Mark Fisher and his idea that we are haunted by futures that failed to happen, that what might have been may yet be the dream that saves us, White Flowers have also found inspiration in the Brutalist architecture that adorns their hometown - futuristic yet dated buildings that serve as an appropriate visual metaphor for Fisher’s theories. Bleakly imposing yet comfortingly familiar, the monochromatic starkness of these structures has fed into the imagery for the record, as well as the sounds found within. Not intending to wallow in cynicism, however, White Flowers’ art ultimately aims to provide a way out of these dystopian fever dreams and spiralling thoughts into a forward facing place.

19 minutes of brutally up front and relentlessly rowdy hardcore punk, that slams a firm British stamp on the classic Swedish Hardcore blueprint. This wrecking ball sits somewhere between the 80’s Hudiksvall sounds of MISSBRUKARNA, the damaged NO FUTURE confessions of THE PARTISANS and the sheer rock and roll audacity of the SKITKIDS. Back to back riffs that'll stick to your brain like the glue at the bottom of your bag and steaming drums blasts that’ll plough through your skull like a juggernaut driven by a maniac high on amphetamine. Mylo Oxlo provides the artwork once again, perfectly capturing the claustrophobic animosity of the Rat’s latest 12 song romp and rampage. Fittingly dropping on the year of the Rat while the Tories take a strangle hold of the U.K for another 4 years. Hold onto your seat, feel the burn and don’t you dare turn this fucker down.

wieder lieferbar Cluster boten live eine Art Performancekunst, die wesentlich aus Improvisation, Krach, bewusster Vermeidung von rhythmisch-harmonischen Strukturen und dem zügellosen Einsatz elektronischer Klangerzeuger bestand. Dazu kamen Auftrittsdauern von bis zu sechs Stunden, in denen Künstler und Publikum nicht selten in rauschhafte Zustände gerieten. Clusters Musik war anfänglich roh, brutal, spontan und wurde mit einfachstem Equipment - keine Synthesizer, keine Sequencer, keine High-End-Verstärker - erzeugt. Hans-Joachim Roedelius und Dieter Moebius ließen keine mechanischen Prozesse ablaufen. Sie benutzten ihre Maschinen, aber verließen sich nicht auf sie. Vielmehr setzten sie auf Intuition. Das Experiment glückte nicht immer, aber oft. Dann spürte man tatsächlich so etwas wie Magie und hörte das Entstehen einer utopischen Klangwelt. Die zwei von Moebius und Roedelius autorisierten Mitschnitte dieses Albums geben eindrücklich die Atmosphäre und die Magie eines Cluster-Auftritts wieder. Der eine fand 1977 während eines Science-Fiction-Festivals in Metz statt, der andere entstand im Januar 1972 bei einem Auftritt in der Hamburger Fabrik. Die Tonqualität ist mäßig, weil damals das Gelingen der Performance wichtiger war als ihre perfekte Aufzeichnung. Wir heutigen Hörer sollten das akzeptieren.

After more than two decades flexing his muscles on the local underground scene and gaining a legendary cult status on his Tenerife home turf, the island’s most famous postman, as he’s affectionately known by his consorts, Tomás de la Rosa aka Postman breaks radio silence to bulldoze his way through the canyons surrounding his hometown of Santa Cruz into an unknown and unsuspecting world. We present thus, Postman’s first ever album of original bangers, micro chopped two steppers and rage induced breakbeat anthems.

Constructed over the course of global confinement, Seeds of Light marks a return to creative activity from the man who regularly delivers your post (its not just a random artist name). Postman aka Tomás de la Rosa has taken his time, compiling sketches and unfinished songs, rummaging through the deep ends of his hardrive, stitching early production sketches with recent compositions, revising, reediting and rebuilding with a more mature and concise attitude, eventually completing, almost unintentionally, the perfect self referential retrospective album. Far from being just a compilation album, Tomás managed to create an explosive document, suspended in time, in which styles are intertwined regardless of fashions and fads – letting go of the ‘modern’ or ‘up to date’ burden - so common these days in electronic music.

It is not an easy album, like many of his previous work it demands extra attention to experience the full crystallization of his complex sound structures. We find ourselves in front of a truly surgically precise work of art whose result comes as a waterproof war machine, refined and incisive, resonating deep with soul and groove.

Postman develops his sound palette throughout the album from very basic sound snippets into a concrete dance world of synthetic sounds eventually creating a parallel reality where J. Dilla could be living in Chemnitz instead of Detroit and releasing records for a label called Raster-Throw. Glitch sampladelics!

Incursions into Grime are also abundant with nods to the ineffable East Man, reunions with his beloved Funkstörung or many other stimulating revisions of lifelong genres and breaks populate this multidimensional sound space, see soul, dancehall, breakbeat, two step and the UK hardcore continuum.

Special mention to the magnificent fluid artwork by the very talented Catalan visual artist Alba de Corral. A still photo from one of her kinetic AI systems programmed directly in code, which matches perfectly the essence of Postman's brutalist alien sound.

Vinyl limited to 200 copies

FOR FANS OF: Big Thief, Parquet Courts, Cate Le Bon, Elliott Smith, LVL UP. On their debut for Western Vinyl, recording engineer and multi-instrumentalist Nate Mendelsohn and his band use lyrical maximalism for the powers of good. Where Market’s previous home recorded releases shifted genre restlessly, on The Consistent Brutal Bullshit Gong Mendelsohn took a core band of longtime collaborators to a house in rural Massachusetts where they carved out space for his words to speak through with humor and intensity. Though he comes from a background in experimental music, Mendelsohn’s ear for pop has prevailed. Certain moments on Bullshit Gong reveal his stranger side, as on the thundering bridge of “Scar,” which sounds like a more unhinged Parquet Courts, or the angular “I Would Do That,” which takes cues from Cate Le Bon. On the whole, though, this band of close friends insists on directness, their arrangements clear despite the intricacies. Guitars and synthesizers tangle fluidly atop the rhythm section’s tight bedrock, evoking the tenderness and backbeat-centric qualities of Elliott Smith or Big Thief. After college, where he met most of the members of Market, Mendelsohn became an engineer and producer at the Brooklyn studio Figure 8 Recording. Through that community he’s recorded artists like Frankie Cosmos and Wendy Eisenberg, and played with Yaeji, Vagabon, Katie Von Schleicher (who co-produced Bullshit Gong with him), and Sam Evian, who mixed the album. Creating intimacy out of manic self-reflection requires a delicate balancing act, one Mendelsohn tackles with abandon. His words never skew too poetic or grandiose, and when he invokes the ugly it’s met with a sonic tonality that sets him right again. In tender moments, his voice is often flanked by bandmates Natasha Thweatt or Von Schleicher, who help skew his words toward the universal. Still, Bullshit Gong is an obsessive look inward, one in which Mendelsohn simply asks himself if he is good to those he loves. It’s an act of trust between the artist and the imagined listener he takes with him. UK press campaign by Silver PR. Mendelsohn has worked in the studio as an engineer and musician with Frankie Cosmos, Yaeji, Sam Evian, Wendy Eisenberg, Thor Harris, Rebecca Black, in addition to touring as a member of Katie Von Schleicher’s band. Market developed a cult following emerge after being championed by British comedian James Acaster, who featured the band’s first album in his book Perfect Sound Forever and his follow-up podcast for BBC Sounds.

Ex-We Are The Physics and current Slime City vocalist Michael M returns with a brand new album of irreverent lo-fi garage punk bangers

Short, fast, pointed anecdotes crammed into just over 30 minutes (so it's eligible for a Scottish Album of the Year Award) for fans of Weezer, Art Brut, Mike Krol, Half Man Half Biscuit, Mclusky, Jay Reatard. Includes download code and videos for each song.A scathing but reflective attack on the internet's Balloon Guy? 10003;The existential crisis of finding out how old the boy from the Sixth Sense is? A Shangri-Las inspired tragedy-pop song about an old crisp packet?Nu Metal, but polite?


Pressed on a totally randomly assigned Eco Colour Vinyl!

THE DEBUT STUDIO ALBUM OF EERIE DEATH/DOOM METAL DEPRAVITY
FROM GREG WILKINSON & CHRIS REIFERT OF US GORELORDS,
AUTOPSY
Static Abyss is the new mouthpiece for a rotten age consisting of the duo of Greg
Wilkinson (Guitars/ bass) & Chris Reifert (drums/ vocals), both members of
legendary American masters of sickness Autopsy, with Greg (also of cult act
Deathgrave) recently welcomed as new bass player for the long-running US act's
next studio opus & beyond.
Static Abyss' debut studio album, 'Labyrinth of Veins', presents an unnerving,
multi-layered eerie concoction of dirty doom & death, including themes exploring
the echoes of insanity manifested through human existence. The result, a sinister
onslaught of at times slow & bludgeoning brutal metal whilst at others whipped
into a storm of chaotic vile hysterics. The spirit of Autopsy is at times present in
the truly titanic riffs swathed in chilling atmospheric guitar leads, whilst Chris'
seemingly bottomless pit of morbid inspiration from the dark & twisted corners of
life permeate the release with his highly distinguishable delivery to further the
descent into madness.
'Labyrinth of Veins' was recorded at Earhammer Studios in Oakland, CA, & Great
American Music Hall, with engineering, mixing & mastering overseen by Greg
himself. Cover art appears courtesy of All Things Rotten.

Australia-born Los Angeles-based artist Luke C. presents ‘T.O.M.B.’, his debut solo release on his newly minted label Velvet Bikini.

The seven-track album is a gauzy, starry-eyed style of ambient electronics, embedded with melancholia and a touch of otherworldly psychedelia. A soundtrack to a generation lost, endlessly searching the streets of a sun-drenched, neon-lit city. ‘T.O.M.B.’ will be pressed on limited-edition vinyl.

The bulk of T.O.M.B. was recorded at Luke C.’s home studio in LA over the last 12 months and put together with various sources—MicroKorg, voice, sampled records, treated field recordings, resampled synths—to create the noir-ish atmosphere present across the LP, one that takes the listener through the depths of the psyche and the neon-lit corners of the city in which it was recorded.

Iranian-American artist Kamran Sadeghi mastered the entirety of the LP, known for his recent album on Richard Chartier’s LINE imprint and his work as a key member of Soundwalk Collective.

Without the West German-born Väth, techno would look, sound and feel very different. Since falling in love with electronic music and DJing in 1981, his dedication to the art has never faltered. He plays every party as if it were his last. His broad smile has connected with millions of people around the world. His colourful and curious character has imbued techno with a personality it was often lacking. His selections remain hugely unpredictable, despite the fact that he has been playing around the world for more than 40 years. To remain not only relevant but innovative after so long is a testament to Sven's ability to connect through music on a deeper level.

Technically, of course, he is a DJ who can play for thirty hours and not miss a beat. His track selections seem almost divine, and his aura is certainly otherworldly. But more than that, he is a ringleader who is able to mix the artful side of techno with the playful side of partying. Most famously he has done this for more than 20 years at his iconic Cocoon parties in Ibiza. They single-handedly introduced techno to the White Isle and have been its beating heart ever since. Under his charge, strict style guidelines and exaggerated pigeonholing no longer apply. Instead, he has perfected the art of playing far and wide while always remaining true to his own musical identity.

In the studio, Sven has always been just as unique. He has worked under several aliases but always brought a fresh perspective. Whether securing chart hits as part of OFF in the eighties, serving up brutalist techno and trance-tinged sounds in the nineties or crafting major label albums in the 2000s, his music has remained utterly forward-looking. That legacy continues with Catharsis as Sven teams up with highly respected producer Gregor Tresher for his latest long-form offering. Tresher has long been part of the Cocoon family and is a revered artist in his own right, when the two got together in the studio it was clear they had an instant connection and there would only be one person fit to co-author this LP.

It is a record inspired by Sven's interest in the physical and spiritual processes that take place when we dance. "They are realms into which we immerse ourselves to experience our own mysticism and ecstasy," he muses. "Dancing is a conversation between body and soul and it spiritually connects us with each other." Because of the pandemic, that is of course a feeling that we all missed out on for so long. "No dancing, no paradise!" says Sven. "My imagination for this record was fueled by the many cultural experiences and encounters I have had in my life. They gave me the strength to find a way, the way to myself." And that way to himself is through music, through purifying dancing rituals and the exchange of spiritual energies that are generated in the club.

The thirteen-track album explores all facets of Sven's sound. It opens with the stomping drums but sleek synths of 'What I Used To Play' and unfolds through deep and dirty rhythms like 'The Worm', subtly euphoric highs on 'The Inner Voice' and the bubbly tribalism of the title track. There is the impassioned call-to-arms that is 'Feiern', peak-time melodic workout 'Mystic Voices' and soothing electronic lullabies like 'Being In Love'. The second half of the album takes in many more twists and turns such as the exotic strings and driving drums of 'Butoh', the paranoid techno minimalism of 'NYX' and expansive synthscapes of ambient gem 'The Cranes Of Gangtey Valley' before things play out though rugged beats and emotive chords on 'We Are', which is named after the idea that we are what we think. "With our thoughts, we make the world.? says Sven.

Then comes the moody reflection of 'Silvi's Dream', which was written in French for Sven's girlfriend. Last but not least we have the immersive dream that is 'Panta Rhei', which completes a trio of electronica tunes on the album. Ambient music has been an integral part on almost every album Sven has written because it can bring a certain emotional deepness, a quality that Sven always has been looking for.

'Catharsis' is an adventurous album that captures the good times, the sad times and, most importantly, the times of hope.