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As the artwork on the EP depicts, "Darkest hour before dawn" is a dusky scenario representing the Dutch environment known as "the polder" in the lower lands. It questions all kinds of actions taken or not taken to protect, restore, conserve, innovate, or modestly leave the landscape to its own more murky outcome. The darkest hour, full of gloom, will be available around the spring equinox?

Portrait of tracks separately:


"Darkest Hour before dawn"

Is this piece supposed to be an ode to the ancient Dutch hardcore movement, that once and probably only then would be experienced to such intensity or is this still maybe just a little near reminder of it? Anyway starts this unlit track slowly and remains that way but maintains a fat-pumping pulse, possibly reminding of a soldier walking a death march. Settling up those launch pads further down the piece, near the bridge for shooting off some drum-fire 909 snares as if it rocketed. Then, suddenly, the extended delay of that snare turns into a psychedelic drone beside, attending to, or paranoidly chasing comrades soul in his journey throughout and above like a trustful partner?

Arp's LFO that is out of sync with the beat and is being outpaced by it seems to slow everything down even more; meantime creating a pulling, buggy-like effect to the due of all this.

The ascending and descending ghost-pad drawing into the grid of the (tone) key, thereafter parking in them for a while and cycling out again, creating a spatial flow of disturbance and anxiety.

Finishes it with a mountain-big reverberation of organized destruction and chaos. What at first sight seems like simply an innocent route appears to actually be a bit more complex one.


"Lovely memories"

The quite monotonous structure of Lovely memories catchy and groovy song is scanning through your brain files; revisiting, memorizing, and purposely lacking these few "dots above the I" that in some cases you'd gladly be feeling like to square fit it in yourself, of course, when necessary. Connecting the puzzling, dazzling flashbacks together to finally wrap up and perpetuate the pictured events for good, leaving traces of melancholy, loveliness, and perhaps even faith to it.


"24 hours"

Dinginess of 24 hours supposes to be felt in the guts.
The beat, steady with that snare on the 4 & 12, might not be one of the greatest inventions. However, the TR-08's drum line here lays a solid and fertile foundation for a reasonable house track.

Slightly detuned synths weave a scarf pattern around your upper body, and the lower layers carry a warm blanket for the underbelly, providing you with that cozy sense of consolation. Acidy pokes wring itself sneaky and penetrable around, slicing through the song's already solid flesh. Therefore, balancing its bitter sweetness throughout with these soft-hard saw-tooth drops of sourness.

"24 hours" conveys a dispatch or intercommunication that there is little time left to take actions/charge to fix and restore. Something big is about to come if it hasn't arrived already...


"At night"

This remarkable story is a bit out of ordinary.
At night appeared in the artist's dream just the night before his sick father was raised from death in the hospital and got just another year to live before actually passing away completely and anyway. ; ))
And thus also dedicated to the man.

Over two decades of toil have passed, the aeon of the end was declared, the parasitic wisdom gained, and the formula of undoing achieved. MITOCHONDRION awoke from a deep, dreamless slumber, and after 11 agonizing years, pried loose from the Cronian clutches to integrate the suffering once again. The singular death metal entity has prepared in cloistered meditation to ascend the peak and proselytize the harrowing word once more.

The new MITOCHONDRION album “Vitriseptome”, released almost 14 years after the band’s last full-length “Parasignosis” is an axe head the size of the known universe brought down with frightening force to sever the neck of all creation. Forged and fermented with the blood, sweat, and bile over a decade from conception to completion: This Great Work nearly took the life of all involved, leaving all to question the true meaning of Death: enantiodromian obeisance to the Abraxan force under Saturn's guise.

This double album is overloaded and unbearable: Pour in what little life you have remaining to be pulverized, conflagrated, calcified, fermented, and purified.

“Vitriseptome” is 11 Alchemical Death Metal works, split over 17 tracks, to form a trilogy of 3 parts, in two phases, which elapses nearly 90 minutes in length.

The 24 songs on this double album are in some ways a completion. Together with Young Man Songs here are nearly all the songs Kerry Lee Crabbe and Daryl Runswick wrote (and Daryl sang) which are good enough to be issued. The subject matter here is wider ranging than on Young Man Songs:love songs, but also family, heroes and antiheroes, zen, celebration, nostalgia, philosophy, life and death.

Daryl Runswick writes: "I first set Kerry Lee Crabbe's words to music in 1967; for the last time in 2010. Our most prolific period was 1970-1980 during which time we had considerable success as a songwriting team, though we didn't have big hits. The pinnacle for us was when Cleo Laine recorded a whole album of our songs (One More Day: well worth looking out for on vinyl or CD). There are a number of reasons for our lack of hits: songwriting was for neither of us our main job - not 'the principal source of his revenue' as Paul Simon put it (One Trick Pony) - we did it in our spare time. Also, neither of us had any interest in being an entrepreneur, nor did we employ a manager to push the songs; also, perhaps we were snobs who disdained moneygrubbing; but perhaps the main reason was that these are art songs: art songs in the style of pop music, yes, but not aimed (other than tangentially) at the commercial market.

We'd have loved to have hits but that's not why we did it and we didn't bother overmuch flogging our wares around. Kerry and I were introduced to one another as undergraduates at Cambridge University. Kerry had written the book and lyrics for a musical (Someone is Squeaking) and I was instructed by Clive James, then President of the Footlights Club where I was Musical Director, to compose the songs. It was put on at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 1967 with Julie Covington in the lead role. Kerry directed and I was musical director, playing piano in the accompanying trio. After that summer I went down to London to be a jazz bass player while Kerry had a further year at Trinity College, Cambridge. After he came down, we got together again and continued making songs."

Delphine Dora is a prolific composer, improviser and musician who has released on a plethora of labels including Recital, Morc, Sloow Tapes, Feeding Tube, Okraïna and more, and ‘Le Grand Passage’ is her Modern Love debut, a stunning set of songs for piano and voice, recorded in one take without overdubs or edits.

In an act of pure expression, Delphine Dora recorded the 8 songs of ‘The Great Passage’ in a single take, succumbing to a whirlwind of inspiration that transported her beyond the material world. Baroque paradigms bleed into fragile, introspective mantras, expressed through a made up language of existential yearning and channeled through piano and voice. It’s music that caresses the sublime, made without any premeditation.

Delphine was nearing the end of a three-day prepared piano residency when an technician stepped in to tune her grand piano for her final performance. He removed the objects from the strings and fixed the pitch, leaving Dora with a freshly tuned instrument. Mesmerised by its new sound, she proceeded to switch on her recorder and pour out her soul, channeling, in her own words, "something greater than myself".

The result is some of the most unusual but elevated material the prolific composer, improviser and multi-instrumentalist has ever recorded, rooted in a deep understanding of European musical history but willing to push at its boundaries, questioning the earthly logic of life and death, asceticism and impiety. Glistening imperfections lash 'The Great Passage' to the physical world, but Dora - seemingly possessed as she quivers in a fictional dialect - lets her fantasies intensify her spirit, lifting the music towards the heavens. It's not sacred music, per se, but it is unashamedly mystical.

On the luxurious, languid opening, Dora dissolves eerily familiar romantic piano motifs into an attentive ceremony, singing with charged emotion. Her words aren't really decipherable, but their resonance vibrates beyond language; it's striking to hear how confident she is in vulnerability. She lets the piano wrap into her voice, connecting us directly to a unique mode of emotional expression by urging us - the listener - to project our own meaning onto her abstracted words.

Dora refers to the act of improvisation itself as a way to indicate "the fragility of being”, and as her words blur in and out of focus, dipping from a hoarse croak to a choking wail, she places herself at the very edge of musical formality, questioning strictures put in place to suffocate self-expression. Her music has often been labeled "outsider", but here she sounds intimate and interconnected, more self-consciously candid than anything traditional might have allowed. She conjures affecting, plainspoken poetry, like a bedside diary written in a hypnagogic, delirious state: a stream-of-unconsciousness, channelling the beyond.

The album title connects to a book dedicated to French philosopher and activist Simone Weil, who famously pored over global religions to ascertain spiritual truths. To Weil, meditation was a passage to access mystical experience, or a bridge between humanity and divinity. In Dora's hands, this idea is a corridor between herself and the listener, a liminal place where she's able to address feelings without making anything explicit. The title, of course, also refers to life, its impermanence, finitude, and fragility, presenting the complex, multi-dimensionality of being through one of the most undiluted, unbridled set of songs imaginable.

After a long silence New Zealand bestial death metal horde Exaltation finally unveil their first proper full-length offering, "Under Blind Reasoning", after a demo tape had surfaced back in 2017 amongst generalized obscurity. Indeed what we find on this debut offering is something distant from the lo-fi quality of the promising but under-produced demo, and sees the band tap instead into a realm of vehemence and aural destruction of unseen magnitude and terror. Feral, enveloping, monumental and sprawling in its unrelenting wrath, "Under Blind Reasoning" sees the obscure New Zealand death-bringers whip the sum of their influences (Immolation, Morbid Angel, Incantation, Deicide, Blasphemy) into a coercive realm of shell shocking torment and rise from the depths of obscurity like a cataclysmic weapon of mass-destruction. The album's dense and multidimensional recording quality (courtesy of engineers Raj Singarajah and Cam Sinclair along by mastering from Luke Finlay of Primal Mastering) has yielded a death metal beast of truly unsettling proportions. Every instrument and the utter violence with which it is wielded appears on full display, as the listener is helplessly left annihilated, blow after to blow, to witness the band's tight, savage and merciless performance and technical proficiency literally maul down the fabric of reality piece by piece. These are death metal songs from a realm of perpetual darkness that bare a load of death and ruin of unprecedented traits. Songs of boundless terror and oblivion that evoke eons of darkness and an immanent and oppressive presage of complete inevitability as the music roars out of the speakers with ominous grimness and near-weaponized violence. All hail the realm of darkness and death conceived by Exaltation, one where the death metal craft is reborn as a feral ungovernable force to inflict merciless ruin unto this mortal plane and all that dares to attempt to exist within it. Tracklisting: 1. Iron Rebellion 2. Impending Deceased 3. Exaltation 4. Ascension 5. Fate Revolt 6. Impious Massacre 7. Blaspheme Mortality 8. Divider of Redemption

Nearly 20 years ago, Karl Sanders – the founder, principal songwriter, and driving creative force behind the exotic, devastatingly heavy stylings of American extreme death metal icons Nile – forayed from his metallic leanings to serve listeners with a transfixing dose of the cinematic, meditative, world music-driven Saurian Meditation (2004). The album explores highly original compositions of hypnotizing, primarily Middle Eastern inspired music, featuring the unique inclusion of instruments such as the balagma saz (Turkish lute) and Glissentar, often blended with dark electronic ambience and deft electric guitar work. Saurian Meditation marked the beginning of Sanders’ Saurian journey, being the first of now three Saurian releases. From the haunting first notes of “Awaiting the Vultures”, which dreamily conjures images of traversing through the dark, mysterious halls of an abandoned ancient temple, to the slithering, percussion-driven pulses and searing electric solos on the ominous album closer “Beckon the Sick Winds of Pestilence” – Saurian Meditation provides a diverse escape for both fans of Nile and the outer realms beyond. Thematically centered around its acoustically-driven, spellbinding seventh track, “Dreaming Through the Eyes of Serpents”, the album ebbs and flows from a higher, rhythmic consciousness to a darker, hypnotic inner balance, achieving a Reptilian Theta State of deep meditation. Saurian Meditation launches the multi-dimensional Saurian universe – witness the very first, transcendental solo output by Karl Sanders, available for the very first time on vinyl, as well as in CD and digital formats, via Napalm Records!

French/Swiss/Canadian hybrid Death Metal of the absolute highest calibre. Essential listening for fans of Immolation, Akercocke, Morbid Angel and Celtic Frost.

“The earth shall rise again...”
AMOR/LEMUR finds the Glasgow quartet AMOR in partnership with Norwegian improvising ensemble LEMUR to hopeful and ecstatic effect. Conceived before the onset of Covid 19 but finished during spring lockdown, their eponymous EP is the most loose, alive and elevated recording in AMOR’s catalog. AMOR/LEMUR takes the template of throbbing avant disco expanded upon on previous recordings for Night School and lifts it into new

territories, with new tonalities and unexpected turns on the journey. More than anything, the expanded, near- cinematic expression of human connectivity feels like a lightning new energy to grasp in the dark.

Following a revelatory concert in Glasgow in January 2020 wherein the two sets of musicians met and performed together for the first time, a recording session was arranged the following day, resulting in the most elevated permutation of AMOR’s art to date. Each track was built upon a rhythmic bedrock of percussion and drums performed by Paul Thomson and samples/synthesizer by Luke Fowler. Thomson used bamboo Javanese gamelan (most notably on For You) and scrap metal, as well as traditional percussion and drums while Fowler incorporated processed ambient field recordings recorded in enclosed acoustic spaces around Glasgow. Singer/pianist Richard Youngs contributes some of the most bright and mindful work of his career. Acoustic bass player Michael Francis Duch, whose lush playing as ever provides the elastic spine to each song, scored the string parts for LEMUR on piano at home in Norway. The addition of swelling strings and drones fills out the AMOR sound significantly, lending a sonorous tone to 8 minute, epic closer For You or an ascending melodic introduction to Stars Burst that feels like a new morning dawning on a world saved from certain death. With the circumstances of lockdown forcing the musicians to work differently, a thread of optimism and utopia grounded in the moment weaves through these tracks. Unravel reveals a spine tingling vocal from Youngs. It’s a song about the simultaneously grounding and ecstatic effect of love, feeling connected to others. It’s a simple message, “I’m finding myself in your smile, always unravels me” speaks of ego death, the dissipation of the material into a nirvana of pure energy, the power of surrender. This isn’t a quasi-religious message, this is the power of each other, a love song to connection in a temporary age of isolation. Stars Burst is a play on the inner and outer cosmos, with narrator Youngs exploring wonder to a pounding galloping rhythm and snake-charming synth. It’s an open dance, with the group locked in together for the wild ride. Fear is the centerpiece of the record, starting with drones and scraped overtones before swirling synth notes filter upwards to meet reverberating minor chords. Over 8 minutes of tight but loose playing, Youngs is the shaman instructing us to use Fear as a celebration of the moment, embrace it and jump into the unknown. The only way to overcome your fear is to feel it, use it as an energy. The use of the studio as an instrument throughout side 2 is particularly important, with the dubbing and mixing prowess of engineer Paul Savage (who mixed unattended due to lockdown restrictions) and tape manipulations performed by Jason Lescallet coming into play. For You closes out with a largely instrumental, evolving composition that uses many of the abstract and novel aspects of this permutation to aid the trance. It’s massive, an unfurling creature with unexpected tonalities and serious heft.