Cerca:as if

Repress - Yellow Vinyl

Harlem River marks the solo debut of songwriter Kevin Morby. Known for his work as the singer/guitarist for the Brooklyn band The Babies and bassist for Woods, the Kansas City native and new Los Angeles resident, calls the record “an homage to New York City”, his adopted home for the past five years. Harlem River features eight interweaving tales of tragedy and misfortune; a series of desperate characters playing out their dramas with the city as backdrop. A departure from some of the signature sounds of his better known projects, Morby’s songs glisten with a haunting intimacy and while he maintains that the songs are stories about other people, it’s hard not to feel a piece of him in each one; a half-imagined, half-painfully personal world of lost love, addiction, violence and prayers for the departed. The album was recorded in Los Angeles in February and March of ‘13 with producer Rob Barbato who recorded the Babies second album “Our House on the Hill” and whose guitar and bass work figure prominently on Harlem River. The album also features drummer Justin Sullivan (the Babies) as well as contributions from Will Canzoneri, Tim Presley (White Fence), Dan Iead and Cate Le Bon.

When we think of the phrase Bonded By Blood, we think of two things: a brotherhood that is meant to outlast the trials of war, pain, and time... and the almighty EXODUS. With a bond forged in youth and decades-old friendship, the undisputed masters of thrash metal return with their eleventh studio album: PERSONA NON GRATA. Literally translating to “an unwelcome” or “unacceptable” person, PERSONA NON GRATA touches on themes of modern societal disgust and degradation. “The people that disgust you - cut ‘em out like cancer,” explains guitarist Gary Holt. “Who is that person? It could be anybody. That’s up to the listener. Who is ‘Persona Non Grata’ to them?”

For decades, EXODUS has impressed us with the ability to attract opposing factions to their music because of its intensity and versatility. A track like “The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves” was inspired by the riots both in theme, and sound. “Without seeming insensitive to the riots, the song is tongue in cheek about what the people beating on the rioters were expecting to happen. Did you think you would beat a smile onto their face? At 3 minutes in length, it’s probably the shortest EXODUS song we’ve ever done. It gets in, gets out, and is just crushing,” describes Holt. While most of the songs do run on the shorter side, this album also comes equipped with crushing, epic tracks.

Whether it’s the music industry gossip sites, or the big players like CNN and FOX, we’re all aware of how news outlets love to set little rat traps; “Clickbait” discusses their methods of picking things out of context to grab your attention, add to their page views, and increase their revenue all while riling up your emotions. “It’s all journalistic dishonesty,” explains Holt, “it’s a modern-day version of Al Capone’s vault, everyone tunes in, and then there’s NOTHING.“ Evenly balanced with extraordinary speed and tremendous, catchy choruses, “Clickbait” is a song that explodes with vigorous energy. “As heavy as this album is, and it’s heavy as fuck, if times were different and there was still metal radio, this song, and probably over half the album, has single capabilities.”

Sitting as the second to last song on the album, “The Fires of Division” keeps PERSONA NON GRATA strong all the way through. “This album doesn’t operate on the normal parameters,” describes Holt, “we didn’t frontload this one, it’s strong right through to the end. It’s supposed to be a musical journey as the songs segway together.”

For the third time in the band’s history, EXODUS returned to Swedish artist Par Olofsson to create the album artwork PERSONA NON GRATA. “After this album, I feel like we probably won’t work with anyone else again, Par just gets it,” states Holt. A three-faced, winged creature sits atop a bloody pile of diseased and rotting humans as they scream in pain and reach their hands up desperately towards the beast. Undead riot cops beat mercilessly, and senselessly upon this pile of the dying and the world is red with fresh, sopping blood. “Is it an angel, a demon? Is the world being created or destroyed,” asks Holt, “you don’t really know.”

EXODUS don’t fall into the usual recording slump that most bands get stuck in. Gathering at Tom Hunting’s house up in the mountains, they avoided the need to book studio time or adhere to a certain schedule. “At first it was just Tom, myself, a half stack, and a drum kit; we call it jam camp. We lived there. We built the studio, we immersed ourselves in it. Number one, because we still enjoy each other’s company enough to do it. When we’re not actively rehearsing or recording, we’re still sitting there talking about the songs, working on them, plucking on acoustics until things really work,” explains Holt, “we’re not settling.” Working from three home-built studios, the band recorded PERSONA NON GRATA themselves with the help of Andy Sneap on mixing and mastering and with Steve Lagudi at the helm of engineering.

“As a band, I’m super grateful. I’ve seen a lot of things around the world and we’re still a band that loves each other, have each other’s back, and we genuinely like to hang out with each other,” explains Holt. “Take it how you will, but I’m this band’s biggest fan. We write songs that are designed to make us feel fired up - that’s why it’s still heavy.”

When we think of the phrase Bonded By Blood, we think of two things: a brotherhood that is meant to outlast the trials of war, pain, and time... and the almighty EXODUS. With a bond forged in youth and decades-old friendship, the undisputed masters of thrash metal return with their eleventh studio album: PERSONA NON GRATA. Literally translating to “an unwelcome” or “unacceptable” person, PERSONA NON GRATA touches on themes of modern societal disgust and degradation. “The people that disgust you - cut ‘em out like cancer,” explains guitarist Gary Holt. “Who is that person? It could be anybody. That’s up to the listener. Who is ‘Persona Non Grata’ to them?”

For decades, EXODUS has impressed us with the ability to attract opposing factions to their music because of its intensity and versatility. A track like “The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves” was inspired by the riots both in theme, and sound. “Without seeming insensitive to the riots, the song is tongue in cheek about what the people beating on the rioters were expecting to happen. Did you think you would beat a smile onto their face? At 3 minutes in length, it’s probably the shortest EXODUS song we’ve ever done. It gets in, gets out, and is just crushing,” describes Holt. While most of the songs do run on the shorter side, this album also comes equipped with crushing, epic tracks.

Whether it’s the music industry gossip sites, or the big players like CNN and FOX, we’re all aware of how news outlets love to set little rat traps; “Clickbait” discusses their methods of picking things out of context to grab your attention, add to their page views, and increase their revenue all while riling up your emotions. “It’s all journalistic dishonesty,” explains Holt, “it’s a modern-day version of Al Capone’s vault, everyone tunes in, and then there’s NOTHING.“ Evenly balanced with extraordinary speed and tremendous, catchy choruses, “Clickbait” is a song that explodes with vigorous energy. “As heavy as this album is, and it’s heavy as fuck, if times were different and there was still metal radio, this song, and probably over half the album, has single capabilities.”

Sitting as the second to last song on the album, “The Fires of Division” keeps PERSONA NON GRATA strong all the way through. “This album doesn’t operate on the normal parameters,” describes Holt, “we didn’t frontload this one, it’s strong right through to the end. It’s supposed to be a musical journey as the songs segway together.”

For the third time in the band’s history, EXODUS returned to Swedish artist Par Olofsson to create the album artwork PERSONA NON GRATA. “After this album, I feel like we probably won’t work with anyone else again, Par just gets it,” states Holt. A three-faced, winged creature sits atop a bloody pile of diseased and rotting humans as they scream in pain and reach their hands up desperately towards the beast. Undead riot cops beat mercilessly, and senselessly upon this pile of the dying and the world is red with fresh, sopping blood. “Is it an angel, a demon? Is the world being created or destroyed,” asks Holt, “you don’t really know.”

EXODUS don’t fall into the usual recording slump that most bands get stuck in. Gathering at Tom Hunting’s house up in the mountains, they avoided the need to book studio time or adhere to a certain schedule. “At first it was just Tom, myself, a half stack, and a drum kit; we call it jam camp. We lived there. We built the studio, we immersed ourselves in it. Number one, because we still enjoy each other’s company enough to do it. When we’re not actively rehearsing or recording, we’re still sitting there talking about the songs, working on them, plucking on acoustics until things really work,” explains Holt, “we’re not settling.” Working from three home-built studios, the band recorded PERSONA NON GRATA themselves with the help of Andy Sneap on mixing and mastering and with Steve Lagudi at the helm of engineering.

“As a band, I’m super grateful. I’ve seen a lot of things around the world and we’re still a band that loves each other, have each other’s back, and we genuinely like to hang out with each other,” explains Holt. “Take it how you will, but I’m this band’s biggest fan. We write songs that are designed to make us feel fired up - that’s why it’s still heavy.”

When we think of the phrase Bonded By Blood, we think of two things: a brotherhood that is meant to outlast the trials of war, pain, and time... and the almighty EXODUS. With a bond forged in youth and decades-old friendship, the undisputed masters of thrash metal return with their eleventh studio album: PERSONA NON GRATA. Literally translating to “an unwelcome” or “unacceptable” person, PERSONA NON GRATA touches on themes of modern societal disgust and degradation. “The people that disgust you - cut ‘em out like cancer,” explains guitarist Gary Holt. “Who is that person? It could be anybody. That’s up to the listener. Who is ‘Persona Non Grata’ to them?”

For decades, EXODUS has impressed us with the ability to attract opposing factions to their music because of its intensity and versatility. A track like “The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves” was inspired by the riots both in theme, and sound. “Without seeming insensitive to the riots, the song is tongue in cheek about what the people beating on the rioters were expecting to happen. Did you think you would beat a smile onto their face? At 3 minutes in length, it’s probably the shortest EXODUS song we’ve ever done. It gets in, gets out, and is just crushing,” describes Holt. While most of the songs do run on the shorter side, this album also comes equipped with crushing, epic tracks.

Whether it’s the music industry gossip sites, or the big players like CNN and FOX, we’re all aware of how news outlets love to set little rat traps; “Clickbait” discusses their methods of picking things out of context to grab your attention, add to their page views, and increase their revenue all while riling up your emotions. “It’s all journalistic dishonesty,” explains Holt, “it’s a modern-day version of Al Capone’s vault, everyone tunes in, and then there’s NOTHING.“ Evenly balanced with extraordinary speed and tremendous, catchy choruses, “Clickbait” is a song that explodes with vigorous energy. “As heavy as this album is, and it’s heavy as fuck, if times were different and there was still metal radio, this song, and probably over half the album, has single capabilities.”

Sitting as the second to last song on the album, “The Fires of Division” keeps PERSONA NON GRATA strong all the way through. “This album doesn’t operate on the normal parameters,” describes Holt, “we didn’t frontload this one, it’s strong right through to the end. It’s supposed to be a musical journey as the songs segway together.”

For the third time in the band’s history, EXODUS returned to Swedish artist Par Olofsson to create the album artwork PERSONA NON GRATA. “After this album, I feel like we probably won’t work with anyone else again, Par just gets it,” states Holt. A three-faced, winged creature sits atop a bloody pile of diseased and rotting humans as they scream in pain and reach their hands up desperately towards the beast. Undead riot cops beat mercilessly, and senselessly upon this pile of the dying and the world is red with fresh, sopping blood. “Is it an angel, a demon? Is the world being created or destroyed,” asks Holt, “you don’t really know.”

EXODUS don’t fall into the usual recording slump that most bands get stuck in. Gathering at Tom Hunting’s house up in the mountains, they avoided the need to book studio time or adhere to a certain schedule. “At first it was just Tom, myself, a half stack, and a drum kit; we call it jam camp. We lived there. We built the studio, we immersed ourselves in it. Number one, because we still enjoy each other’s company enough to do it. When we’re not actively rehearsing or recording, we’re still sitting there talking about the songs, working on them, plucking on acoustics until things really work,” explains Holt, “we’re not settling.” Working from three home-built studios, the band recorded PERSONA NON GRATA themselves with the help of Andy Sneap on mixing and mastering and with Steve Lagudi at the helm of engineering.

“As a band, I’m super grateful. I’ve seen a lot of things around the world and we’re still a band that loves each other, have each other’s back, and we genuinely like to hang out with each other,” explains Holt. “Take it how you will, but I’m this band’s biggest fan. We write songs that are designed to make us feel fired up - that’s why it’s still heavy.”

LIMITED CLEAR VINYL

LA based composer/sound designer duoHeliochrysumannounce the release of their visceral, deep and exploratory debut albumWe Become Mist.The album has beenmixed by Ben Frost and mastered by Valgeir Sigurdsson.

Heliochrysumis the world building meeting of Michael Deragon and Daniel Lea
( L A N D, Important Records), in which a collaboration becomes a sculpted journey into new aural and imaginative cosmology.We Become Mistuses analogue and digital processes to mine the depths of industrial and science fictional, psychedelic soundscapes, often cinematic in tone and texture.


Taking their cue from a shared palette of sounds, textures and rhythms,Heliochrysumcreate a unifying score that is at once improvisatory and sonically certain.We Become Mist is nothing short of the progression from a souterrain awakening to the terraformed sound of a new world coming into existence.

These tracks overlay analog sound sources, digital hard wrought processing and visual sound design, constantly morphing and turning on their own searching torque. Mixed by Ben Frost and mastered by Valgeir Sigurdsson, the accumulation of sheer vision and depth is transportative, if not outright mind wrenching. In between this melding of the analogue and digital was mixed another element: the album istinged with psilocybin technology. As a listener you can hear as you move through a psychedelic passage, like out of a state of lockdown into one of alien otherworldliness.

The piano, industrial crescendo of ˜We Remain Beneath is evidence of this, sounds modified into careful, lush arrangements. A Future Unfolds sounds like a burnished unfurling, a resplendent distortion bringing to mind some epic revelation while tracks such as ˜Infinite Dark or ˜Pre Dawn bristle with chrome pulses that burn with alarm and dulcet drama.

Just as they did with their palette of sounds,Heliochrysumtaps into a wide range of emotions from hope to devastation, growth and contagion.

The name Heliochrysum evokes the Latin for sunflower but also a healing tincture: in the overlaid orchestration and distorted lightness, the roiling, life-giving pour of the sun can be heard. Simplicity washed with emotional intensity, the remembered dreams of far-off, science-fictive discoveries.

Ltd White vinyl LP w/ printed inner sleeve lyric insert (1000 copies ww)! Emma Ruth Rundle's forthcoming Engine of Hell is stark, intimate, and unflinching. For anyone that's endured trauma and grief, there's a beautiful solace in hearing Rundle articulate and humanize that particular type of pain not only with her words, but with her particular mysterious language of melody and timbre. The album captures a moment where a masterful songwriter strips away all flourishes and embellishments in order to make every note and word hit with maximum impact, leaving little to hide behind. "I really wanted to capture imperfection and the vulnerability of my humanity," Rundle says of the album's sonic approach. "Here are some very personal songs; here are my memories; here is me teetering on the very edge of sanity dipping my toe into the outer reaches of space and I'm taking you with me and it's very fucked up and imperfect.'" Emma Ruth Rundle has always been a multifaceted musician, equally capable of dreamy abstraction (as heard on her album Electric Guitar: One), maximalist textural explorations (see her work in Marriages, Red Sparowes, Nocturnes or collaborations with Chelsea Wolfe and Thou), and the classic singer-songwriter tradition (exemplified by Some Heavy Ocean). But on Engine of Hell, Rundle has opted to forego the full-band arrangements of her previous albums in favor of the austerity of a lone piano or guitar and her voice, which creates a kind of intimacy, as if we're sitting beside Rundle on a bench, or perhaps even playing the songs ourselves. It's an extremely up-close and personal confessional with a focus on the rich subtleties and timbre of Rundle's graceful performances. "For me this album is the end of an era to the end of a decade of making records. Things DO have to change and have changed for me since I finished recording it." In essence, Engine of Hell signifies a major turning point for Rundle as both an artist and as a person. The catharsis of this type of songwriting has effectively served its purpose, and to continue ruminating on the past going forward is less of a healing process and more like picking at a scab and refusing to let it heal. This may help explain why Rundle is less than enthusiastic about divulging the details about her muses, but it doesn't alter the fact that these songs served a purpose in their creation, and that they may continue to bring comfort to others.

« Half of Tiger & Woods on a brillant release for SKYLAX RECORDS » If you ever wondered what it might be like to have a 707 or a Sampler instead of a pacemaker, you could always ask Valerio del Prete aka Delphi, who has been setting dancefloors around the world on fire for years. Delphi has displayed his mastery of acidized arpeggios and deep electronic tropes via an EP on Pigna, before linking up with Roman techno don dada Marco Passarani as the discotech duo Tiger & Woods. Several EPs and two albums of stripped back disco on Editainment and Running Back encapsulate their winning approach – reimagined loops from heady discotheques mixed through the axis of Rome, Chicago and Detroit. In 2016 he released the house/Italo/EBM stomper Blue Tuesday on a split 12” on Tiger & Woods own label T&W Records. For this new release, the brilliant producer (half of tiger & woods we repeat) kicks off the show with the very Italo-discoïde "donuts for dinner", nourished throughout by a monstrous kick and soaring synths. He poses as a worthy heir to the Italian masters of 80s pop who often used the B-side of their songs to experiment with their most adventurous ideas. Zequenz immediately made us think of an imaginary orgy between Ron Hardy and the members of Kraftwerk, this sound is incredibly sharp and would not have denoted on the decks of the legendary DJ. Which leads us straight to the most brawling track on the EP, the aptly named "Ron's lesson" and it is indeed a lesson. This crazy track (obviously dedicated to the legendary chicago DJ) seems to have come straight out of an imaginary session, we must remember how much at that time naivety and therefore distortion (!) Reigned over productions, giving an incredibly raw and edgy side on the dancefloor. Again, this song could have been released 30 years ago. And finally, to come full circle, the very graceful overheat joins the aesthetic of the first track in an elegant and dreamy way. Note that on the label's bandcamp, with the purchase of the vinyl, you can get 3 exclusive bonus tracks (Clutch play, Runinng in place, Sucker). The magic is here, CLEARLY.

This is a special one. Very much indeed. I was on a train on my way to Galicia earlier this year when my phone started off. It was Mike. Me and him exchange a call every now and then, so I thought it was the classic how-you-doing thing, which of course was. Only that this time the call ended with him saying “I’ve emailed you something, a couple of vocal takes plus the only music line that survived that session which is some great drumming by Gad”. Nothing more. Gad (scratches head)? Who the hell is Gad? When I arrived at destination and found some steady wifi connection I downloaded the stuff and found out “who the hell” Gad was. Nothing less than the “most recorded drummer in the history of soul music” aka James “Big Foot” Gadson who, beside the Kirklands, in his career has been drumming for the likes of Marvin Gaye, Charles Wright, Bill Withers, The Temptations, Martha Reeves, Quincy Jones, you name a Soul Star or a famous album, or a legendary recording session, he was there beating snares and kicks. Having been much satisfied by our work on the “Love Scenario” release Mike wanted us, and I quote him literally, “to do our magic”. We did our best of course, but you just can imagine the pressure. This time we went the extra mile though because at some point, listening again and again to the verses and choruses I figured out it would have been a great experiment to give an ultra retro feel to an original recording of 1980. So, while we were doing our thing I’ve asked my mate Paul from Blue Lotus Recordings in Saint Louis, if they could “do their magic” themselves. They gladly accepted the challenge, I handed them over the vocal takes and Gad’s drumming and the result is this 4 tracks 7”/33 rpm biscuit which we hope you will enjoy as much as we all have enjoyed producing it.

Over the course of the decade, Meatbodies’ Chad Ubovich has been
a perennial candidate for MVP of West Coast’s fertile rock scene. The
LA native could be seen peeling off guitar solos in Mikal Cronin’s
backing band, supplying the Sabbath-sized low end for Ty Segall and
Charlie Moothart as the bassist for Fuzz, and, of course, fronting his
own Meatbodies. Today the recently dormant experimental noise /
freak-rock outfit has announced their return with 333—a corrosive
stew of guitar scuzz, raw acoustic rave-ups, and primitive
electronics that charts Ubovich’s journey from drug-induced darkness
to clear-eyed sobriety. 333 simultaneously reflects on how the world
he re-entered was still pretty messed up—if not more so. “These lyrics
are dark, but I think these are things that a lot of people are feeling
and going through” he says. “Here in America, we’re watching the
fall of U.S. capitalism, and 333 is a cartoonish representation of that
decline.”
In mid to late 2019, the band—Ubovich and drummer Dylan
Fujioka—had a new album in the can, ready to be mixed. But
when COVID hit, like so many other artists, they put their release
on hold as they rode out the pandemic’s first wave. During that idle
time, Ubovich discovered a cache of demos that he and Fujioka had
recorded in a bedroom back in the summer of 2018, and he really liked
what he heard. In contrast to Meatbodies’ typical full-band attack, it
was deliriously disordered. “It sounded gross, like a scary Magical
Mystery Tour,” he recalls proudly. After subjecting them to some
mixing-board freakery, Ubovich fast-tracked the songs into becoming
this third release of theirs, 333. It proves Meatbodies have greatly
expanded their palette, opening new portals to explore. And for an
album that wasn’t supposed to exist, 333 is the ultimate testament to
Meatbodies’ renewed vitality.

A-side inside and B-side outside: this single is very loosely influenced by the collective experience of the long wait to be released; adding to the already exhausted canon of cultural covid artefacts. Cheeks is centred around the sub-bass of an old Italian organ and the honking sax of Iain McCall, telling the tale of a squashed individual. The over zealous approach to layers hopefully adds to the feeling of claustrophobia and mundane delirium.
If Cheeks is the wind up, Mild Weather is the release. An ode to the modern desire of one week in the sun, accepting that prize and returning back to the slog. Jayne’s beautiful vocal provides the centre-point to a casio led symphony, with acoustic and electronic drums fighting for attention throughout. As is the current norm, these tracks were written and recorded remotely and in a couple of sessions in Edinburgh at the beginning of 2021.

By way of some cosmic miracle, only one Total Hell pops up
when the band moniker is searched on Discogs. And that would
be the band responsible for the five-song blast of heavy metal
sounds at hand. Now active for about two years plus change
and exported from the very metal and punk fertile New Orleans,
Total Hell is DD Deth (aka Drew Owen—Sick Thoughts
wheelman, Trampoline Team etc) on drums / vocals, Henry
Hell (John Henry of Static Static, Heavy Lids) on bass / vocals,
and guitarists Jason “Panzer” Craft (Persuaders, Tirefire) and
Michael Maniac (Michael He-man of Trampoline Team).
If self-deprecation is beyond the listener’s processing skills,
then please know that as self-described purveyors of the “New
Wave of Shitty Heavy Metal”, Total Hell’s big-boy debut is
not “shitty” in any manner whatsoever. These four recordings
(“Desecrate”, “Clones From Hell”, “Violator”, and “Disfigured”)
are melodic monstrosities that hit with a wall-to-wall, floorto-
ceiling hugeness, while doing so in an economical manner.
There will be no mistaking this for Broken Bones screeching out
of an iPhone inside the vegan squat. On the flip, this is no Bob
Rock joint. DD Deth elaborates: “Recorded on a Tascam 8-track
cassette live at home (aka “The Parkway”) by Michael He-Man
and the process was a nightmare. Original tape crapped out on us
back in early 2020 so we had to redo the whole thing. Intros and
interludes were done last minute by me with the cheapest midi
keyboard on the net.” Well, color Goner Records impressed.
One might get momentarily lost in the cavernous drums that
introduce opener “Desecrate”, but soon the buzzsaw-riff-wall
will crush one into a smudge on the bathroom floor. Without
rocking some safety goggles and diving headfirst down a
terminology rabbithole, this is punk jumping into the sack
with metal and leaving black boots on the bedroom floor rather
than white hightops. Xmas came early for fans of Anti-Cimex,
Celtic Frost, pre-shit Discharge, Motörhead, Blitz, Midnight,
Venom, Broken Bones and...one gets the picture.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

You have to know how to move away from the rich, strong and noisy streets, if you want to discover another Havana. A Havana far from the tourist circuits and preconceived images. A Havana where one discovers bucolic, but hard and stripped too after slow journeys in the crowded buses, a Havana with which Al Quetz maintains a passionate history since more than fourteen years.
Installed in one of those neighborhoods that can only be reached by going deeper into the alleys, from the open window of the studio comes the sound of banging drums and thumping bass. The sound reaches the streets on which the day rises.
The place wakes up in a growing tumult, with some rare engines coughing, conversations under the windows, songs of the street vendors , an urban ballet sets up as the sun darts its rays.
Far from the musical clichés with percussions and horns, Cuba is an island bombarded with influences that one discovers.
An island which vibrated for the jazz, the soul, the psychedelic rock , from the waves coming from the Caribbean to those of the bulky neighboring ogre.
A musical flowering as varied as abundant that the glorious post-revolutionary label Areito has on thousands of recordings,
and that Al Quetz has designated as the sole source of his samples to compose Habanologia.
From the ambiences that punctuate the local daily life caught by his samplers, he let the melancholy infiltrate his hip hop beats, the nostalgia melting in the depths of his grooves. Nostalgia in the Cuban air, even during moments of intense laughter, which never totally disappears.
Habanologia restores these moments when the song of the birds has extinguished those of the cars. Where, sitting on a doorstep, we comment on the life of the neighborhood, we watch the women's swaying at eye level. The whole day if necessary, the coffee at one peso, after a certain hour, which leaves its place to the Planchao rum. Wandering through its streets where a chance encounter can itself bring others and lead to the essence of the habanera life. From Regla, after a short trip on the bus-boat that crosses the bay, savor the end of the day, observe the capital from afar, let the nocturnal insects ensure some arrangements and drift towards mysterious horizons, bringing to the contemplation of the place and the moment.
A flute, a keyboard, percussions or a voice. Al Quetz also invited his friends from the island or elsewhere to decorate his productions with their live touch. To share with him this Havana for which he covered his tracks, mixed times and distorted space-time to make it timeless.
To write with Habanalogia, a declaration of love to the Cuban capital, to make Havana, His Havana.

Purple Vinyl

"In this album I was trying to explore the idea of pop music on PCP. PCP has fantastic lore around it and I think the most fascinating thing about it is that it seems as if many people have had these experiences where they took PCP, it presented them with an alternative reality, and they accepted it without question. It's as if that umbilical cord of knowing that you're high is cut, and the person taking it is fully immersed in the trip. Not only that but from some of the accounts, the alternate reality seems quite twisted and perverse. There are reports of people disemboweling and eating each other, or deciding that the best course of action is self-mutilation or castration, and then emerging from the trip still convinced it was the right choice. Or even the accounts of people gaining superhuman strength and fighting off 5 or 6 cops at once. It seems like there's something quite dark on the other side of that door. So for this album I tried to write what I imagine the pop music of that alternate reality might sound like. What would happen to the sugary sweet, wet dream, corporate sponsored top 40 hits, if we dipped 'em in angel dust and got "wet". What would happen if we slopped all of those fun summer hits into the meat grinder of the PCP reality tunnel, and just pushed them through. I like to imagine an intersection under an overpass in a cyberpunk dystopian future. It's midnight and you can see the neon's from the storefronts on the other side through the thick smog. A modded AE86 Corolla pulls a left turn and you can hear the music pounding from the sound system as the rubber peels underneath it. As it's drifting through the intersection, smoke pouring out of the tiny gap at the top of the tinted windows, the music pours out of the car like a thick syrup, engulfing us as we stand frozen for a moment as they pass. This is what they were playing."

"You ever wonder what Keith Morris does at the end of the day? Does he maintain that wide-eyed stare, the one that pins audiences to the floor with its very intensity, while he’s putting on his pyjamas? Does he continue spitting venom from that heroically ragged throat of his while he’s making his cocoa? Does he lay his head on his pillow with the same righteous fury that launched thousands upon thousands of moshpits? Hey, I’m just wondering. Y’see, all that intensity and venom and fury… it has to go somewhere while he’s otherwise occupied with mundane tasks like taking off his socks or brushing his teeth, right? And listening to the thrilling racket conjured up by Vancouver’s Chain Whip, you’d be forgiven for thinking that they have somehow become vessels for that energy. I mean, they’re Morris’ spiritual successors - if their 2019 debut ‘14 Lashes’ wasn’t enough of a clue, then this six-song blast of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it brilliance should leave you in no doubt. This is hardcore punk as it was originally conceived, and it slays. ‘But who are Chain Whip?’ I hear you ask. Well, they’re a bunch of dudes from British Columbia who’ve also served time in bands like The Jolts, Fashionism and Corner Boys (among others). They’re the ones who are gonna have you slashing the seats at your local cinema, or taking potshots at lines of empty bottles on street corners, cuz they make you feel so damn tuff. OK, I’m just goofing around here - whereas Chain Whip are serious business. No, really. I dare you to listen to the Germs-go-nuclear b(‘)last of ‘Laguna Bleach’, or the garage-slop-at-200-mph rush of ‘Fresh Paint And Philanthropy’, and not want to launch a stink bomb into your teacher’s car. Or, failing that, to bring about the extinction of global capitalism. If that fails, you’ll just end up wearing out the grooves of this very fine six-song EP while bouncing between walls like the DRI logo guy if he wore jet heels and spring-loaded shoulder pads. Jeez, imagine Keith finishing the night shift and giving these guys a handover. As if they’d even need to be told. Look, Chain Whip are the best straight-up old-skool punk band you’ll hear today. You know what to do. Trust your instincts. Dance that two-step to hell with ‘em. This. Is. The. Shit." Will Fitzpatrick.

Portico Quartet announce Monument, the electronic driven follow-up to their acclaimed ambient-minimalist suite Terrain, presenting the band at their most direct

It's rare that a band releases two albums within six months of each other, rarer too that while both are so different, they are both as epochal in terms of the band's output as Terrain and Monument are to Portico Quartet. The irony is that Monument, a stripped-back, intentionally direct album, was the album that the band set out to write in May 2020, before the dream like long-form Terrain came into focus. Briefly they were two halves of the same record, but the band ended up developing these two distinct bodies of work concurrently. And although they were written side-by-side and recorded at the same sessions, they are records best understood as distinct from each other, each with opposing ideas and forms.

Monument is one of Portico Quartet's most accessible, direct records to date. If Terrain addressed the darker side of how Duncan Bellamy and Jack Wyllie made sense of the pandemic, then Monument resonates as an ode to better times. If not quite a dance record, it nonetheless pulses with an energy, radiance and a scalpel sharp focus. Jack Wyllie explains: "It's possibly our most direct album to date. It's melodic, structured and there's an economy to it that is very efficient. There's not much searching or wastage within the music itself, it is all finalised ideas, precisely sculpted and presented as a polished artefact."

Bellamy expands "Monument sits somewhere between our albums Portico Quartet and Art in the Age of Automation. It has perhaps a more overtly electronic edge to its sound – there are more synthesisers and electronic elements than we have used before and the music is often streamlined and rhythmic".

After the ethereal, stage-setting of Opening, the album kicks into overdrive with Impressions, a short energetic track that pairs a club influenced groove with hang drum and close, delicate saxophone. It's the balance between these elements that push and pull the track through a selection of melodic and rhythmic re-configurations, contrasting human touch with a machine-like focus. Ultraviolet is a kaleidoscopic, krautrock inspired track with a haunting introduction and an insistent pulse. The wistful Ever Present builds from a simple piano refrain; a nostalgic melody line floats over the top as drums and bass groove insistently underneath, before reaching a euphoric peak. The title track Monument builds around a looping vocal sample, drums and an enigmatic melody, the ending giving way to a gauzy, weaving synth line. The power here is in its economy and luminosity. AOE flips back and forth, like a dial that's been switched. Mining the tension between a pastoral inflected cello and saxophone melody, with an abrupt shift to jilted live drums, wailing delayed saxophone and a flickering synth line. Warm Data comes straight from the same Portico Quartet tradition as older tracks like Current History and Laker-Boo. It's a marriage of instrumental minimalism with drum machines and synths. Finally, the album closes with On The Light, a track that transmits a sense of suspense and freedom, driven by the twitching drums of Bellamy and evocative sax of Wyllie. It offers the perfect bitter-sweet and evocative ending to Portico Quartet's latest Monument.

4 Reworked & Reimagined tracks from Motherhood and a cover of Deftone’s “Teenager”. Clear w/ Blue Glitter Colored Cassette Shell, with full pull-out J-Card artwork. Recommended If You Like : Bjork’s Live Box, The Deftones Cate Le Bon. Montreal’s No Joy—since 2009, a noisy four-piece shoegaze band, from 2015 onward, the sonic experiments of founding member and principal vocalist Jasamine White-Gluz has rejected convention, opting to find cohesion in vast, bold, indiscernible structures. In the beginning, the group excavated melodious riffs from squalling guitars, now, White-Gluz approaches songwriting with abstract meticulousness, no longer tethered to her six-string instrument. In 2018, it was the modular electronica of No Joy / Sonic Boom, an EP collaboration with Spaceman 3’s Pete Kember. In 2020, her first full-length as a soloist and No Joy’s first album in five years, Motherhood, her guitar returned for a genre-agnostic, maximalist treatise on aging. Fertility, family, death, birth, her voice heard loud in the mix, White-Gluz became a commanding force among the many-splendored sounds of trip-hop, trance, nu-metal, dance rock, and, of course, shoegaze, delivered through banjo, vibraphone, scrap metal, slap bass, even kitchen appliances. Who knew chaos could have such lucidity? Now, White-Gluz’s ever-expansive evolution has brought forth Can My Daughter See Me From Heaven, an EP reanimation of five songs from Motherhood, transformed by new orchestral instrumentalists: an opera singer, a cellist, a harpist, French horn musician. These songs, recorded entirely remotely, are not a correction. They are a spring rebirth—an opportunity to grow those tracks, similar to the transformation they would’ve undergone live, on stage. “Songs take on a new life when I’m on tour. These songs didn’t get that chance. I still had more to say with them,” White-Gluz explains. “I probably never would’ve been like ‘let’s get a bunch of classically trained players together,’ if it wasn’t for covid-19 canceling tours. This EP was an opportunity to do something that wasn’t obvious. It’s a bedroom recording, but it doesn’t sound like we recorded this in our bedrooms. I wanted to do something that sounded bigger than Motherhood did, and Motherhood was recorded before covid.” Where many musicians used last year’s disaster to look inward, releasing solitary, insular albums, No Joy did the opposite: “It was more, ‘Let’s try everything!’ Give me something to look at!”

A Paean to Wilson is still arguably Vini Reilly and the Durutti Column's most important and consistent piece of work since the demise of the original and seminal Factory Records in the early 1990's. On this release we have the ‘F4 Heaven Sent’ tracks released on vinyl for the first time. They first appeared in 2005 via Wilson's project F4, as being the fourth version of Factory Records. Originally it was download-only release, Heaven Sent (It Was Called Digital, It Was Heaven Sent). A six track CD of personal dedications by Vini ironically the last piece is titled Anthony. Originally this was commissioned for the MIF (Manchester International Festival) where it was premiered in July 2009. Vin had already composed pieces for Tony to listen to whilst he was ill in hospital and it was from here that the project developed. This release belatedly coincides with the new Paul Morley Biography ‘Manchester with Love: The Life and Opinions of Tony ...’Ever critical of Vini's voice, but ever a fierce champion of his talent, the late Tony Wilson would surely appreciate this instrumental tribute by The Durutti Column. ‘Near the beginning of the final night of the Durutti Column's 70-minute international festival tribute to Tony Wilson, A Paean to Wilson, guitarist Vini Reilly announced that he wouldn't be singing: "So you won't have to put up with my awful voice and schoolboy lyrics." If Wilson was with us, he would have chuckled. The Granada presenter-turned-Factory Records boss spent years urging his first signing to stop singing, and concentrate on the virtuosity that led Red Hot Chili Pepper John Frusciante to call Reilly "the greatest guitarist in the world". Two years after his death, Wilson got his way, one of many lovely touches in a very personal, emotional and often warmly funny musical tribute. Wilson signed Joy Division and Happy Mondays, yet never gave up on this cult band he adored, working with them even after his legendary label went bankrupt. A complex man, Wilson was an academic thinker who revelled in Steve Coogan's affectionate, Alan Partridge-style send-up of him. And this tribute was no different. At one point, Reilly known for melancholy launched into something resembling an Irish jig. "Tony loved to laugh," he explained. "He loved absurdities." After the humour came exquisitely mournful music. With Reilly and drummer Bruce Mitchell augmented by bass, keyboard, violin, electric piano, drum machine and trumpet, the band's beautiful pieces reflected Wilson's love of rock and classical. Reilly's plangent guitar work showed grief's emotional spectrum, from sadness to overdriven anger. As in life, Wilson had the last word, his recorded voice expounding thoughts on socialism with an eerie echo. Silence followed as Manchester pondered the loss of one of its truly larger-than-life characters. Then everybody cheered.' Dave Simpson The Guardian 20/7/09

Featuring Squirrel Flower and Liam O’Neill (SUUNS). Recommended If You Like: Mount Eerie, Low, Richard Swift, the Weather Station, Lomelda, Fleet Foxes, Squirrel Flower, L’Rain. Cedric Noel is a songwriter, bassist, collaborator and producer currently based in Montréal, Québec. The newest longplayer from Tio'tiá:ke/Montreal staple Cedric Noel lands with a stunning sense of surety and self. Hang Time stands as a high water mark for a songwriter who's spent the past decade quietly expanding the borders of his music. Longtime fans will recognize the fluid elements of the album’s open-ended rock formations: reflective strumming, soaring choruses, searing guitar lines, subtle bass grooves; all occasionally dissolving into pools of pure ambience. New listeners will find surprises throughout: threads of folk pop, ambient and sound collage fasten the foundations of this expressive whole. However, what’s most striking on Hang Time is Noel’s newfound sense of voice, both literal and metaphorical. Written primarily in 2017-18 during an intense period of self-reflection, this collection of songs finds Noel wrestling profoundly with his sense of identity, self and place. The album’s material was captured faithfully at The Pines, a beloved downtown Montreal studio whose doors shuttered shortly after amidst the strain of the pandemic. Noel worked closely and patiently with friend and engineer Steve Newton, ensuring the songs had the time and space needed to come fully to fruition. Hang Time features subtle rhythm work from drummer Liam O’Neill (SUUNS) and guest spots from Brigitte Naggar (Common Holly) and Tim Crabtree (Paper Beat Scissors) among others. The album opens in mid-air with ‘Comuu’, a song that implores a becoming-more while hovering triumphantly. Then follows a suite of songs (‘Headspace’, ‘Keep’, ‘Stilling’) that recall the heart-rending power of y2k-era Low, albeit with a more vigorous beat. On ‘Bass Song’, an intimate duet with musician Ella Williams (Squirrel Flower) that explores the depths of interpersonal constriction. At the crux of the album sits ‘Born’, a deceptively pleasant-sounding song that explores the confounding emotionality of adoption before fading into a distended soundfield. Throughout the back half of the album, Noel double’s down on this commitment to his genuine, proud, Black self. The most confrontational track, ‘Allies’ finds him refraining “Are you on my side?” as a trailing guitar solo interweaves a Malcolm X soundbite, eventually engulfing the composition. Glorious lead single ‘Nighttime (Skin)’ traces the artist’s sense of ancestral dissociation through to a triumphant moment of pride in self-acceptance. Throughout Hang Time, Noel finds a way to ask hard questions (both of the listener and himself) in ways that are compassionate, open and honest. The ebb and flow of tension and tenderness that moves within these tracks helps to grow the heart and redefine what Black music can be in 2021.