Поиск:bleak

Born in the bleak isolation of the secluded prairie city of Edmonton, Canada, Homeshake’s Peter Sagar worked with friends in a number of local bands be-fore picking up and moving to Montreal in 2011 to begin recording under the Homeshake moniker. Following two self- released cassettes (The Homeshake Tapes and Dynamic Meditation) and two acclaimed full lengths (In The Shower and Midnight Snack), Sagar cracks a window open with his third album for Sinderlyn – Fresh Air.

Started immediately following the recording of Midnight Snack, Fresh Air continues Sagar’s exploration of dreamy, downtempo bedroom R&B and draws

Gone: The Promises Of Yesterday is by no means a sequel to Ghetto: Misfortune's Wealth - missing are the poignant and bleak sermons on the pain of inner-city existence, replaced by dusky, sensuous re-workings of tainted love songs Warren had written as far back as 1965, during his time as a songwriter at Shrine and Motown. Still, his unfinished self-reinvention, even heard through the prism of these skeletal remnants, delivers on a remarkable purity of vision: one man's corner of black culture, 24 carats pure and mishandled perhaps until now, finally a bit less misunderstood.

Gatefold double LP with insert

We recorded this album almost 15 years ago. So much has happened since then, but we feel very connected to these songs and they still mean a lot to us. The intense atmosphere, the eerie sense of loss and melancholy that this record conveys fits perfectly into the world of today. We live in urban wastelands and are surrounded by more and more isolated people who are increasingly losing touch with everything. It is hard to find some hope in these days dominated by stories of war, ecocide and solastalgia, yet many people tell us that they have found a glimmer of hope, a small portion of positivity within these songs, which are dark and bleak, but also offer some relief, some light in the darkness. That is why we decided that this record, which means so much to so many, deserves a proper remaster that on the one hand preserves the spirit of the original tracks, but on the other hand is accompanied by two re-recorded songs that in a way show the changes we have gone through as human beings and as musicians.


The future may look bleak, but all is not lost yet.
This record was and is still dedicated to those who feel.

Purple Vinyl

London’s abundant waterways and parks provide an oneiric muse for Cucina Povera and Ben Vince’s resounding debut full-length collaboration, an engrossing suite of weightless sax, synth and disklavier-bedded soundscapes that land somewhere between Grouper and Terry Riley.

As a newcomer to London, Rossi was caught up in a sort of wondrous reverie - a feeling that seeps through every movement of thia almost hour long album. Vince's plasmic echoes and Rossi's aerial delivery form a poetic union, twisting and painting each sound in pearlescent shades, finding a musical confluence between Rossi's words - fluid, dreamy, hazy ideations - and Vince's shadowy renditions.

Rossi's folk roots shine through like cracks of dawn sunlight on 'Sumu Puistossa' ("fog in the park"), reverberating over organ and dream-zone sax; her words tip into muted surrealism thanks to the controlled chaos of Vince's bleak treatments. His grasp of jazz is transfixing: bending sax motifs like ghostly memories of music from another timeline, smudging them into the soundfield. It’s most effective on the title tracx, where sickly, dissonant notes flicker like an almost-extinguished candle alongside motorised furniture music courtesy of a Disklavier.

From the Terry Riley-esque transcendence of '∞' to the sacred incantation of long-form closer 'Pikku Muurahaiskeko' ("little anthill"), the pair expose a new layer of creativity with each turn, gradually zooming out from discreet, vulnerable beauty to encompass a gently orchestrated chaos of sustained, sublime tension


[b] 02. [_]

THUGWIDOW & Bruised Skies land on Hooversound with a new EP

“music for everybody, to think to, to dance to.”

The 12th release on the Hooversound imprint sees THUGWIDOW and Bruised Skies come together for ‘Blimey’ (HOO12), cultivating an evolving new sound: a dark and deep soundscape - ready to immerse, whether on the dance floor or at home. The release also features two remixes from Denham Audio and Response which will be available on the digital version only.

THUGWIDOW is the ambient jungle project of Alex Lowther-Harris, who’s sound is a formation of tastes, otherworldly guidance and obligation, evolving organically from nothing more than an adolescent love rebirthed in a new millennium.

Bruised Skies (Matthew Heywood) creates layered, visual music that captures a melancholic isolated landscape, oceans of sound lapping against shores; guiding the listener. With previous releases on Blank Editions, Intervention and Astral Black his solo music is a cross between season 3 of Twin Peaks and John Carpenter’s experimental scores; beautifully dark, bleak and isolated in its journey throughout.

‘SOMEONE TO BELIEVE IN’: A COLLECTIVE ANTHEM OF SOLIDARITY.

‘RIDING HIGH (ON YOUR LOVE)’: AN ECSTATIC EULOGY TO SUMMER DANCE FLOORS.

CRISP SUN SHIMMERS THROUGH BRITTLE BLUE SKY.

THE WORLD AWAKENS FROM ANOTHER BLEAK COLD WINTER.

YET MILLIONS STILL SUFFER WHILE OUR LEADERS LAUGH AT US.

AMF - HERE TO BRING JOY AND HOPE.

DJ Support -
Patrick Topping ‘You have nailed that vibe’
Sasha ‘Big Stuff’
Totally enormous Extinct Dinosaurs ‘Great Sample!’, Mr V Cool vibes on this pack’
Auntie Flo ‘Nice One’
Mousse T ‘Useful goodies’

Radio Support -
Danny Howard, Sarah Story

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Red Vinyl

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output.

Combining their early recordings, including the 1979 Flesh As Property EP and 1980 State Of Emergency EP, Courts Or Wars takes its title from the first song that served as the pair’s introduction to listeners. Right from the beginning you are enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Where The Sound fit snugly next to Echo And The Bunnymen, Second Layer had far more in common with the pulsing menace of Suicide.

Borland’s familiar vocals and sense of melody hold a connection to his other songwriting, but within these songs he takes far more risks in his guitar work to suit the subject matter. What really drives everything is Bailey’s propulsive bedrock, formed by his homemade pre-drum machine rhythm generators, creating an innovative mechanical approach that somehow inserts a jittery neurotic touch that merges perfectly with his electronic layers driven by the wasp synth, various unique effects boxes or tape loops. Adding in Bailey’s own distinctive bass playing, the results feel personal and experimental, pointed and harsh, while also bracingly accessible and covered in dark manic energy.

Over forty years later, these recordings feel shockingly appropriate. In painting a bleak reality and frightening future, there is real desperate beauty here.

Berlin’s Pure Hate releases the first record in their new Various Artist series ‘Noise Bleed’ featuring tracks by Ryuji Takeuchi, Gaja, Swarm Intelligence & STRISC. Ryuji Takeuchi: Making a return to Pure Hate after his infamous ‘Essentials EP’ on PH002, Ryuji Takeuchi is renowned for his driving, hypnotic, atmospheric, raw, emotional interpretation of Techno. he has released on some key labels over the years including Inner Surface Music, LK Rec, Arms, Clan Destine Records, Infidel Bodies, Instruments Of Discipline, Depth. Request, his own LSN & Hue Helix imprints and more recently Mord and Dax J’s Monnom Black. Gaja: Once locked into the throes of Berlin’s ceaseless techno throb and now back home in Albenga, Italy, Gaja represents the gnarly, noisy extremity of modern dance music. It’s a desolate, distorted place where blasts of noise spit in the empty footprints once shaped by snares and hi-hats, and the bass bleeds out over everything. Having recently released his debut album ‘Morning Fist’ on his own Ophism imprint, Gaja makes his Pure Hate debut in style with track ‘Hangman’. Swarm Intelligence: From rhythmic noise to the brutal and bleak constitute a distinctive sound that Simon Hayes has been honing for more than a decade under his Swarm Intelligence guise. Having remixed MDD on PH003 The Dublin-born artist has cemented his place in the Techno underground with critically acclaimed LPs and EPs on labels like 47, Instruments of Discipline and Voitax plus standout sets at clubs like Berghain and Basement NY. Simon also recently launched his own self titled vinyl imprint Swarm Intelligence as a platform to explore his own imaginings of futuristic industrial music. STRISC.: Last but not least and rounding the record off in his trademark brutal style, label head STRISC. finally makes his anticipated debut on Pure Hate with track ‘Melt Pit’. VHXX1 is available in stores from 16th January 2023, distributed by Ready Made Distribution, Berlin. Mastered by Joe Farr. Artwork by Slave To Society. Tracklist: A1. Ryuji Takeuchi – Spur A2. Gaja – Hangman B1. Swarm Intelligence – Deviant B2. STRISC. – Melt Pit

'What if Blitz hailed from Los Angeles and sang in Spanish’ isn’t a question you hear all that often. Fortunately, we don’t need to ask - the answer is provided by Generacion Suicida’s latest album, which rages and rattles in all the right places, drenched in the memorable brilliance that powered the Killed By Death compilations (ask yer dad - and if he doesn’t know or care, burn his terrible records and make some space to track down the KBD LPs). The band’s slogan is ‘musica del barrio, para el barrio’ - music from the neighbourhood, for the neighbourhood - but it sounds like they could use these hooks to take on the world. That’s a pretty accurate sentiment as well, because this album was written during the Covid-19 lockdown of 2020, while the world bubbled over with carefully managed misinformation, police violence and the sickening overspill of white supremacy’s foul brew. If Regeneracion sounds potent, it’s because there was a lot to be angry about, and the result is arguably their best album yet. Those chorused-out guitar lines carry shades of deathrock, hints of Manchester circa 1980, elements of something you might call goth if it was several degrees less furious. But there’s no doomed romance to this music; it’s an all-out attack. Street punk with the smarts turned up and an ear turned to the lessons learned from post-punk (but crucially, not the ‘post-punk revival’ that is essentially shirtless beardy lads chanting non-sequiturs over landfill indie). Chiefly, it’ll make you wanna get out of your chair, unite your local community and march on down towards your government’s centre of operations with a simple-to-use molotov cocktail kit. Its rage is infectious. It’s inspired by bleak moments in our recent shared history, but it revels in humans’ capacity to find strength in each other. And the tunes? Oh damn, they’re good.' Will Fitzpatrick.

In the world of heavy music, few bands embrace dynamics and negative
space like Kowloon Walled City - Since forming 15 years ago, the band
has increasingly refined its deconstructed approach to noise rock, math
rock, and doom.Now, with Piecework (Neurot Recordings/Gilead Media),
the band's fourth album and first in six years, Kowloon Walled City
reaches new levels of restraint
Songs are bleak and slow, but also shorter and more concise. (Seven songs clock
in at about 30 minutes.) There are stretches of near silence. While the band has
always operated under the MO that less is more, it has doubled down on that
ethos for Piecework. Singer/ guitarist Scott Evans and guitarist Jon Howell, the
main songwriters, self- imposed restrictions to push themselves creatively
"restraining ourselves into oblivion," as Howell put it. Songs are written in more
straightforward time signatures. Evans and Howell also changed their guitar rigs
to sound more "clean and clanky."
With the gristle stripped away, bone and muscle remain: drums decaying in a
room, bass strings rattling, a lonely guitar chord. Sometimes, it's almost
uncomfortably barren. But the negative space also amplifies the ruptures of
heady aggressiveness that anchor Piecework. Angular guitar notes from Howell
skew off the neck, dissolving into space. Ian Miller's bass lines churn in the muck.
Drums and cymbal smashing by Dan Sneddon punctuate dead air. (Sneddon,
formerly of Early Graves, makes his recording debut with the band five years after
joining.) There's sadness and anger in Evans' shouted vocals, but also a desire for
something better.
Through the resignation and regret, Piecework also hints at perseverance and
hope. Pressed on Milky White color vinyl.

Jon K and Elle Andrews’ MAL imprint returns with a new LP from one of the London experimental underground's best kept secrets, Rory Salter aka Malvern Brume. His music is rare, eccentric and mysterious - somewhere between Coil's bleak ritual magick and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop's most experimental, minimal fringes. 

Malvern Brume operates just beneath the radar, occasionally turning up at Café OTO lineups and on a smattering of releases for Low Company, Alter, Infant Tree and Kasual Plastik - but he’s never one to shout too loudly about his work. ‘Body Traffic’ is his most interesting set to date, laying bare a process melting found sounds, field recordings and spoken word into throbbing, pulsing rhythms. It’s an evocation of a fraught mindset during the early weeks of lockdown in 2020; sequestered in his flat next to a trainline, the infrasonic - and more audible - rumbles of rolling stock and a nagging sense of dread infecting his ambiguously discomfiting recordings.

Operating in a headspace that values world-building and vivid, visual emotionality, Salter’s careful melodies are familiar - the distant, weeping melancholia of 1970s British TV hangs off the recordings like net curtains, and his atmosphere loops into experiments that weave through bare traces of industrial music, blank-faced electro pop, and hedonistic Brummie techno, all reduced to a cinder. 

The mood is set on the bellyaching resonance and crawling walls of the title tune, while 'Through Beaked Fog Horns' is drowned beneath morning mists: lopsided synth drones choke and drift, percussion mutates into inebriated bubbles, and tape-f*cked environmental whirrs create an atmosphere that’s hard to decipher in one take. 

‘Moss Spines Clenched’ follows cryptic stains on peeling flocking, and the icy creep of ‘Tense Branches Waver’ quivers beyond a cracked windowpane. The artist’s voice appears from beneath a cardboard box fort in the imaginary world of ‘Cornered Into Sleat’ as a distant drum beats out a marching thud and traffic squeals are sculpted into chirpy whistles, before ‘Bri Dun’ resolves the eerie tension in an OOBE-like ascent above the dado-rail and across the tracks, watching himself fade into a dissociative bliss.

"All chatter falls quiet…” Salter murmurs thru saturation and white noise. It’s a sound that’s gonna stick with us for a while.

The premier release on Multitone Recordings comes from dreadmaul & No_Name out of Germany. The A side, Hand of Sobek from dreadmaul, is a somber, halftimey, tech step number sprinkled with breaks, pads and cymbals that shimmer through a vast and bleak darkness. The flip, Obscure
Prophecies, is a collab between both artists and more of a relentless, techy floor anthem. Each tune being in a bit of a different style from the other, we think this record will satisfy purveyors of various tastes in darker dnb.

Repressed! Illmatic, the 1994 studio debut of Nasir "Nas" Jones, was more than just a critical success for the Queensbridge-based rapper. At a time when East Coast hip-hop was increasingly being taken less seriously than their West Coast counterparts, Illmatic's raw jazz and soul-based production, dire atmosphere and lyrics, coupled with Nas' uncompromising flow was integral in restoring interest in the East Coast as a hotbed of hip-hop artistry. Along with key releases from Wu-Tang Clan and Notorious B.I.G.,it shifted attention away from the funky, dayglo synth-based G-funk coming out of California and back to the grimy streets of New York. After such an unprecedented debut record, expectations were understandably high for Nas' follow-up. What came next threw critics and fans for a loop, but was no less influential than Illmatic, and would become the most commercially successful album in the entirety of Nas' discography. The 1996 sophomore follow-up was titled It Was Written, and in contrast to the urban bleakness of his debut, had Nas dipping his toes into the world of mafioso rap. Amidst production from heavy hitters like Trackmasters, Dr. Dre, L.E.S., Havoc of Mobb Deep, and Illmatic-collaborator DJ Premier, among others, Nas weaves evocative narratives of gang warfare, downtrodden neighborhoods, drug deals gone awry, and gangsta triumph, against a backdrop of samples from Sam Cooke, Etta James, the Isley Brothers, and even Chuck Mangione. It Was Written was not hard up for top-tier guests either, featuring major guest turns from Lauryn Hill and Joel "JoJo" Hailey of K-Ci & JoJo. It also introduced the world to The Firm, the brief Nas-led supergroup featuring rappers AZ, Foxy Brown, and Cormega. It even managed to cause some minor controversy in the hip-hop community for its collaboration with West Coast producer Dr. Dre, at a time when the East Coast/West Coast rap feud was reaching a fever pitch, briefly attracting the ire of one Tupac Shakur. Not only was It Was Written received warmly by critics, but became a major commercial success, reaching the top of the Billboard 200 charts, reaching platinum sales status four times, and alongside albums like Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, helped usher in the era of mafioso rap in the mainstream. It rendered chart hits out of singles like the Eurhythmics-mimicking "Street Dreams", and the Grammy-nominated "If I Ruled The World (Imagine That)", and proved to be a major influence on artists like Kendrick Lamar, Lupe Fiasco, and many more.

Smith & Burrows sind Tom Smith (Editors) und Andy Burrows (Solo, I Am Arrows, Razorlight, We Are Scientists). Ihr Debütalbum 'Funny Looking Angels' erschien 2011 und avancierte mit einer Mischung aus eigenen Gitarren-Pop-Weihnachtssongs und Coverversionen schnell zu einem Liebling der Fans beider Hauptbands.

'Night Of The Endless Beyond', the sophomore album by Lord Of The Isles AKA Neil McDonald for the ESP Institute, had almost become a mythical piece of work. The tracks very slowly crept into formation from the lowest depths of 2021, and once the completed album finally made the leap from creation into manufacturing, an entirely new onslaught of follies and delays awaited at the pressing plant. We began to laugh, for not only did Mario Hugo’s otherworldly sleeve artwork visually translate this music so well, but it was an uncanny premonition to the album being lost in space, falling through a black hole, evaporating into the aether like a dream that never really happened. But, at long last, ground control has confirmed contact! It did happen, it will arrive, and it’s not a myth.
Listening to 'Night Of The Endless Beyond' now feels like the return of a strayed friend, one whose distance left us pining for an embrace. Although this Techno relies on unassuming means, there is a remarkably complex and persuasive emotional statement embedded here, insisting we learn to endure the long game and allow ourselves patience to investigate and appreciate the minutiae contained not only within the notes, but their negative space. From its introduction, through its mellow crests and valleys, there is a conveyance of restraint — subtle dynamics that quietly beg for attention, repetition so hypnotic that imaginary melodies are inescapable, transient peaks so deliberately scaled that we mourn the subsequent decay. In accordance with Neil’s ESP debut, 'In Waves', we never feel attacked by instrumentation but shielded from sharp edges, able to step inside the music, breathe the air it occupies and know its true intentions, whether bright or bleak.
Just prior to the album close, a film dialogue excerpt summarizes everything quite honestly by proposing, “The truth of the universe is waiting … the truth of what is … it’s all going to go away … everything … into blackness … the void … and nobody is in charge.”
“…and what do you do with that?”
We stare long into the 'Night Of The Endless Beyond' and answer… “You smile.”

Hate Propaganda's far too overlooked 2019 debut EP "World War 666" sees a much needed reissue on vinyl, remastered and enhanced by brand new artwork commissioned for the purpose by Xerox master P. Van Trigt. When it was first released on cassette tape back in 2019 by War Arts Productions, this war-torn debut offering of primeval warnoise by the mysterious Portuguese war criminals stood out immediately as a crown jewel debut for the genre and as one of the year's most definitive and underrated manifestations of extreme metal's most hateful and berserk fringe. Packing in nineteen minutes of absolute hatred, the annihilating MLP manifests as a nightmare hallucination of complete violence and negativity, evoking eons of perennial apocalyptic global planetary war and terror on the wings of its nefarious design of achieving maximum annihilation in the shortest amount of time possible. To harness this bleak pantheon of ruin, the Portuguese conquerors have assembled a weaponized and uncontrolled sonic chain reaction where grindcore, black metal, death metal and hardcore punk are all accelerated and instigated into an inescapable payload of death aimed straight at the vital sinews of humanity. A sonic maelstrom churned into shape by an onslaught of obscure violent riffs, psychotic leads and ominous laughter which, parallel to a pulverizing drum performance, emanates from oblivion with an antediluvian, negative aura. Comparisons to bands like Diocletian, Heresiarch, Tetragrammacide and Nuclearhammer will run abound, yet these would be only easy superficial conjectures as this is a manifestation of sonic extremism which dwells on a plain of excellence entirely its own. Its uniqueness transpires particularly in the maniacal drumming which underlines the band's hardcore and punk influences, and is exalted further by an unusually crystalline production and by a masterful onslaught of uber-audible riffs hiding behind nothing and seemingly going in the opposite direction of the homogenous and indiscernible sensorial smothering the genre usually opts to go in. Tracklisting: 1. World War 666 2. Neverending Mass Graves 3. Violent Nature of Human Annihilation 4. Welcoming the Nuclear War With Open Arms 5. Let the Sirens Signal the End of Times

"The tape is bleak, quite literally – the entire narrative is subsumed by the slate-grey oppression of winter, seemingly every scene soaked by perpetual torrents of North West rain. In fact, you'll probably never find a better evocation of the foul weeks before the respite of Christmas sparkle; those late November days of frozen, sodden-coated darkness on the silent walk home from work." – Stonecirclesampler.