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ASSASSIN veröffentlichen ihre erste EP überhaupt - freut euch auf vier neue, knallharte Thrash Metal-Songs, die vor Härte und Groove nur so strotzen, sowie eine Thrash Metal-Coverversion eines Fleetwood Mac Songs!

ASSASSIN veröffentlichen ihre erste EP überhaupt - freut euch auf vier neue, knallharte Thrash Metal-Songs, die vor Härte und Groove nur so strotzen, sowie eine Thrash Metal-Coverversion eines Fleetwood Mac Songs!

ASSASSIN veröffentlichen ihre erste EP überhaupt - freut euch auf vier neue, knallharte Thrash Metal-Songs, die vor Härte und Groove nur so strotzen, sowie eine Thrash Metal-Coverversion eines Fleetwood Mac Songs!

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Described by Steve Lamacq as “so elegant and haunted, in an almost gothic way, but with that bass momentum of proper post-punk”. This is the debut album from bloody/bath. 10 tracks inspired by the unsettling sounds of horror soundtracks, early 2000’s indie rock guitar lines and mental illness, ‘In An Empty Space, I’m Screaming’ is as anthemic and cathartic as it is eerie. Produced by Matt Peel (Yard Act, WH Lung, Dream Wife, Divorce, Eagulls), the record is dissonant post-punk filtered through a myriad of sonic palettes. Lead single ‘Suffering’ evokes catchy indie rock while opener ‘Strangling of the Dog’ finds itself firmly in the harsher edges of the genre. The album also features ‘Idle Hands’ which was championed by Iggy Pop and played on BBC Radio 6Music by Iggy, Steve Lamacq and Lauren Laverne. This limited edition vinyl on translucent red with black smoke marble is limited to only 100 distro copies. Link to Soundcloud tracks - ‘Strangling of the Dog’, ‘Heather’ and ‘Unholy Cross II’

2024 Reissue

The syndicate manifests its sonic potential in full glory. Giving rise to this collection of colossal heavyweights, Sentry demonstrates its spotless record of selecting certified heavyweights for the discography once again, twenty-fold. Stepping into the ring are some of the scene's most prolific artists alongside a plethora of promising, choice newcomers.

Boasting more than an hour of supercharged sound system pressure with names like Caspa, Truth, Bukez Finezt, Nomine and Youngsta himself on the controls - the subsequent inferno proves to be an authoritative display of quality bass music, that is sure to reach roaring stacks of speakers all around the globe for years to come."

"Vintage flavours transmute into fiery low-end excursions in 'Sun Ra' as Onhell reigns with fire and brimstone and makes way for what's to come. Rolling on, Taso lays waste with dimly lit half-time flows as we enter the smoke-filled mansion of Argo's meticulously crafted 'Since Then' - a prime cut of hip-hop infused breakbeats and bass.

Abstrakt Sonance & Substance set the heater into overdrive and blunts aflame as we proceed into the shelling of 207's 'Gypsy Dub' - then promptly being crunched to bits by 'Crocodile' - encapsulating Dayzero's cold-blooded dance floor armaments. Brace yourself for battle as we step to the drums of Caspa's tribal warfare, full-frontal assault engineered for the club.

Unrestrained power surges propelling us onwards in Coltcut & Ourman's decidedly high-grade collaboration as listeners march through Khiva's haunting sound system belter 'Teeth' and a zealous dosage of Dubstep as envisioned by Truth. Led through eerie alleys and pressure-ridden environments with LSN on the buttons, the onslaught proceeds with the relentlessly driving 'R U Broke' in Mr. K's signature style.

Opus merciless injects straight fury in an auditory form in the spiked 'Lime Pickle' - Bukez Finezt keeping pace with a murderous Cembalo-ridden thug anthem, lunacy! Minimal instrumentation to its fullest effect, Sukh Knight's 'Modulate' keeps it spicy - as does the claustrophobic sub-bass chiming by Leftlow. Thanom ignites what's left of the residual air in 'Tumble It' - dangerous goods.

The subsequent time bomb armed by A:Grade & Feonix, cast into the abyss that is Nomine's space-bending 'Judas' - big speaker business. The clock strikes its final hour - Youngsta & Cimm finish off the survivors with a no-holds-barred showdown, the 'Last Judgement' executing its massive verdict.

Die schwedischen Power-Metal Schwergewichte BROTHERS OF METAL sind mit ihrem neuen Album „Fimbulvinter“ zurück.
Diese Naturgewalt von einem Album ist vollgepackt mit feurigen & facettenreichen neuen Hits. Auf den 13 brandneuen Songs verschmelzen epische Power-Metal Hymnen mit kernigen Gitarrenriffs, donnernden Schlagzeugsounds & fantastischen Stimmen, die bis nach Valhalla klingen.

4 Jahre sind seit der Veröffentlichung von „Emblas Saga“ vergangen und nun hat das Warten endlich ein Ende, denn ihr neustes Werk „Fimbulvinter“ wird am 01.11.2024 über AFM Records veröffentlicht und führt den steilen Aufstieg der BROTHERS OF METAL unaufhaltsam weiter.
Seit ihrem Debütalbum „Prophecy of Ragnarök“ haben sich BROTHERS OF METAL von einem Geheimtipp zu einer festen Größe entwickelt. Mit „Fimbulvinter“ soll diese einzigartige Power-Metal Saga nun weitergeschrieben werden und wird auf der Release Tour im Winter 2024 gebührend gefeiert.

Die schwedischen Power-Metal Schwergewichte BROTHERS OF METAL sind mit ihrem neuen Album „Fimbulvinter“ zurück.
Diese Naturgewalt von einem Album ist vollgepackt mit feurigen & facettenreichen neuen Hits. Auf den 13 brandneuen Songs verschmelzen epische Power-Metal Hymnen mit kernigen Gitarrenriffs, donnernden Schlagzeugsounds & fantastischen Stimmen, die bis nach Valhalla klingen.

4 Jahre sind seit der Veröffentlichung von „Emblas Saga“ vergangen und nun hat das Warten endlich ein Ende, denn ihr neustes Werk „Fimbulvinter“ wird am 01.11.2024 über AFM Records veröffentlicht und führt den steilen Aufstieg der BROTHERS OF METAL unaufhaltsam weiter.
Seit ihrem Debütalbum „Prophecy of Ragnarök“ haben sich BROTHERS OF METAL von einem Geheimtipp zu einer festen Größe entwickelt. Mit „Fimbulvinter“ soll diese einzigartige Power-Metal Saga nun weitergeschrieben werden und wird auf der Release Tour im Winter 2024 gebührend gefeiert.

In the age of streaming platforms and social media, stimulation is easy to come by. Real pleasure, however_the kind that feeds our soul rather than draining it_is in shockingly short supply. The second LP by THUS LOVE is full of that kind of nourishing euphoria. It swoons, shakes, and swaggers with a combination of grit and sensuality that's been hard to locate in music lately. It's called, fittingly, All Pleasure. The album came out of a period of dizzying growth and transformation for the group. When they began work on it, vocalist/guitarist Echo Mars and drummer Lu Racine were still reeling from the runaway success of their 2022 debut Memorial_a set of lush, elegant post-punk that brought praise from The FADER, the NME, and the Guardian_along with processing the departure of the founding bassist. With All Pleasure, the band re-formed with new bassist Ally Juleen and guitarist/keyboardist Shane Blank. The group convened in a barn in the woods that Mars had transformed into a recording studio, and kept one rule at the forefront: "If it's not joyful, don't do it." What emerged from that mission is a stunningly gorgeous album, full of big, arcing melodies and a range of kinky stylistic twists that will surprise listeners who know the group just for Memorial's chorus-drenched 80s-style psychedelia. "Birthday Song" gives grungy glam rock with a transcendent hook that underlines Echo's lyrical tribute to communal joy. "Get Stable" transmutes existential panic into sharp-angled punk pop. The anthemic title track is something like the album's mission statement, paying tribute to the power of joyful creation. Mixed by Matthew Hall and Rich Costey and mastered by Bob Weston, All Pleasure was recorded as live as possible, capturing the sheer infectious ecstasy that comes from sharing space together and making a divine racket. Put on All Pleasure, tap into the energy that THUS LOVE is putting out, and you just might find an escape.

US Heavy Music Act CANE HILL melden sich endlich mit ihrer neuen, lang ersehnten LP “a piece of n ihrer nunmehr 13-jährigen Karriere haben Cane Hill immer wieder gezeigt, wie musikalisch divers sie sein können. Von Metalcore, über Nu-Metal, Industrial Metal und Alt-Rock ist alles dabei und nun beschenkt das Alt-Metal Quartett um Frontmann Elijah Witt uns mit ihrem neuen Longplayer aus 11 neuen Tracks, darunter die neuesten Singles “The Midnight Sun” und “Fade”.

“Ich habe diesen Song geschrieben, als ich wahnsinnig verliebt in jemanden war. Mittlerweile sind wir uns Fremde, aber ich glaube, hätten wir uns nie getroffen, wäre dieser Song nicht das geworden, was er nun ist. Musik kann so schön ironisch sein”. — Elijah Barnett über “Fade”

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Transparent Blue Vinyl. After years of preparation, Marcus Drake emerges from the basement networks of the resistance underground to claim the first save point along his quest ahead. Welcome to Save Point 1, a universe where popular forms of the past collide at warp speed with Marcus's mutant inspirations to produce sounds and genres hitherto unknown. Save Point 1 is a visionary and singular Debut work of Avant Rock & Pop Alchemy, blown apart and reassembled under the laws of Quantum Musical Mechanics. Written, Produced & Performed by Marcus Drake, the album eludes classification, but sounds like a sci-fi fusion of musical DNA from Nine Inch Nails, Prefab Sprout, Nobuo Uematsu (the Final Fantasy video game composer), Animal Collective, Prince, Mr. Bungle, Liars, The Mars Volta, and Lil Ugly Mane. The album marks the first release under Drake's own name, and the latest since his 2017 release as Anthony Fremont's Garden Solutions_his idiosyncratic side-project with Water From Your Eyes' Nate Amos, Options' Seth Engel, and NNAMDI. He has also since scored for film and video, including the Adult Swim short Thoron the Conqueror. Save Point 1 isn't just a new beginning, but a reintroduction to Marcus Drake the artist and composer. Drake experimented with new techniques and approaches for many years while recording Save Point 1, a process that transformed his sound, voice, and artistic identity. The resulting oeuvre is giddy and dreamy, an Olympic-height diving board from which to descend through indie rock and videogame soundtracks, thrilling math-rock riffs that turn experimental, and synths that glow in rainbow hues. Just turn to the glitchpop of "Heaven's in the Rot" or the slow-motion acoustic glitter that is "Dragon It Out" to hear it in motion. And note the two-part "Haunted" suite that funnels his unpredictable experimentation into darker, weirder directions.

"Mrs. Ladyships and the Cleanerhouse Boys" are your new favorite MOD heart throbs. Is there REALLY a new Merseybeat Revolution? How many times can you really REALLY watch The Blow-Up alone in your room? Why don't you venture out the front door and take a bite of the real thing? The Smashing Times are a mainstay in the indie pop underground. The group mistrals the new modern life perfectly, the sharper world. collaged with 12 string guitar and mallet on the floor tom. 14 tracks 33RPM.

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Nachdem er 2022 "The Consistent Brutal Bullshit Gong" schrieb, hat sich Nate Mendelsohn immer mehr in seiner Musikgemeinde in Brooklyn, NY, verwurzelt. Er produzierte die letzten FRANKIE COSMOS- und DOUGIE POOLE-Alben, trat bei VAGABON und SAM EVIAN auf und machte Aufnahmen mit YAEJI und LADY LAMB. Diese Erfahrungen mit abenteuerlichen Künstler*innen sind in Mendelsohns Songwriting eingeflossen und haben, zusätzlich zu seinen frühen Jahren in der Jazz- und Avantgarde-Welt, ein Album hervorgebracht, das so manchem wahrscheinlich den Kopf verdrehen wird, wenn man Alben namens "Pet Sounds", "Fantasma", "Insignificance", "Blonde" oder "XO" mag. Wie auf einigen der genannten Alben verschmilzt auch auf "Well I Asked You A Question" das Physische mit dem Synthetischen: gesampelte Orchester duellieren sich mit echten Orchestern ("Fantasy"), die gesprochenen Worte eines Roboters duettieren sich mit einem menschlichen Chor ("Around"), und Geräuschexplosionen üben sich in Soli über traditionelle Rockinstrumente ("Rachel's Getting Married"). Obwohl viele der Sounds auf dem Album erweitert und gebrochen sind, arbeitete Mendelsohn mit der vollen MARKET-Band - Stephen Becker, Natasha Bergman und Duncan Standish - zusammen, um die Songs zu entwickeln. Er wollte "musikalische Unfälle mit ausgefransten Rändern - immer noch eine Gruppe von Leuten, die in einem Raum sind und Songs spielen". Neben der Kernband leisteten Katie von Schleicher, Mike Haldeman (MOSES SUMNEY, ALTO PALO), Justin Felton (L'RAIN, BIG THIEF), Rose Droll (FEIST, ART FEYNMAN) und Helen Newby mit der Technik von Adam Hirsch (Sam Amidon, Stephen Steinbrink) weltumspannende Beiträge.

Back in stock! As hip-hop’s online footprint began rapidly expanding in the early 2010s, acclaimed Los Angeles emcee Blu was a rising star who commanded attention. Just a few years removed from the breakthrough success of Below The Heavens and an appearance on the XXL Freshmen list, the talented wordsmith was navigating the major label system, dropping self-produced mixtapes, and working with artists like The Roots, Miguel, Flying Lotus, 9th Wonder, and more. In 2011, the mysterious album Jesus turned up on Bandcamp, uploaded by an artist calling himself “b.” Soon discovered to be the latest project from Blu, the unpolished but deeply soulful collection quickly made waves on blogs and social media. Just weeks later, Jesus improbably became one of Blu’s first official solo releases, and it remains a lo-fi masterpiece, with mesmerizing production by Alchemist, Madlib, Knxwledge, Hezekiah, and Blu himself. Now, this classic is receiving a long-overdue vinyl reissue, complete with the Jesus-era bonus track “Arrow & The Sparrow” featuring Jimetta Rose.

Matthew Herbert setzt seine Soundtrack-Produktionsreihe mit der Musik für den britischen Horrorfilm "Starve Acre" des Regisseurs Daniel Kokotajlo mit Matt Smith und Morfydd Clark in den Hauptrollen fort, der im September 2024 erscheinen soll - eine düstere Untersuchung von Trauer, Glauben und Übernatürlichem, die stark auf Folklore und Mythologie zurückgreift. Der OST folgt auf Arbeiten für Independentfilme wie "The Wonder", "The Cave" oder den Oscar-nominierten "A Fantastic Woman" und ist eine minimalistische Übung in Spannung und Zerbrechlichkeit, die geduldige Instrumentierungsfäden mit atmosphärischem Sounddesign verbindet – romantische Wogen der Orchestrierung gegen drohenden Druck im unteren Frequenzbereich und körperlose, unnatürliche Stimmen, die die bösartigen Kräfte darstellen, die im gesamten Film angedeutet werden. Er enthält zusätzlich zwei Versionen von "Let Me In", einer Interpretation des englischen Volksliedes "It Hails, It Rains, It Snows, It Blows" aus dem frühen 20. Jahrhundert, gesungen von Matt Smith und gespielt vom Folk-Elektronica-Duo Crewdson & Cevanne (Hugh Jones & Cevanne Horrocks-Hopayian) - ein bezauberndes Finale für die allgegenwärtige Düsterkeit der weiteren Partitur.

based songwriter Henrik Appel returns with third album Shadows. Ranging from freewheeling garage rock to intimate moments, and adding touches of jazz, Shadows is inspired by the likes of Bob Dylan’s Blond on Blonde and The Fall’s Hex Enduction Hour and another step of his continued evolution as a songwriter and artist.

For as long as he’s been a solo artist, Henrik Appel has been in a constant state of evolution. His first album, 2018’s Burning Bodies, was a meticulous construction project, one that came togeth-er over a five-year period and that saw him chronicle, with searing honesty, the slow death of a relationship, with its nine songs written according to a stringent set of self-imposed rules, intend-ed to keep the songwriting minimalist and bare-bones in nature.

His 2021 follow-up, Humanity, represented a remarkable progression of its own. It was born out of a break-up of a different kind, this time with his former bandmates in Stockholm outfit Lion’s Den; piecing together aspects of the vision he’d had in mind for the band’s never-realised second al-bum, he built from them his own sophomore LP, one that took the classic feel of Burning Bodies and imbued it with adventurous new influences, as he began to carve out a genuinely singular sound.

Now, three years on from Humanity, Appel has made another ambitious left turn. Neither of his first two albums were made in complete isolation; on both, he enlisted the production services of Stockholm underground legend Martin ‘Konie’ Ehrencrona, and also collaborated on his lyrics with his partner, Emma Lind. Now, on this thrilling reinvention of a third record, Appel has turned away from perfectionism, placing chief importance instead on making a raw, human record.

Arbes’ long-awaited debut album, "Counterways", exists on the cusp between the ethereal and the more attention-seeking concerns of pop. The record invites listeners into an unusual sonic world of atmospheric depth. Comparisons can be drawn to New York post-punk of a more colourful bent, running Blondie all the way through to Gang Gang Dance. The album's dream-pop dimension brings to mind Cocteau Twins, while its grittier, art-rock moments, coloured with ambience feels akin to Deerhunter. Glimmering flashes of psychedelia channels the likes of Melody's Echo Chamber.

The ten track album explores romantic dreaming and the struggle to (not) understand and to be understood. It memorialises glimmers of connection, discontentment and longing. Front woman Jess Zanoni’s soulful, oracular voice is anchored by the earthbound brambles of prickly guitar and brushstroke percussion, where all is tethered to a surface of unearthly detail and resonance. Written and recorded over a five year period (2017-2022), Arbes eke out every possible ounce of emotionality from their songs. Not to sedate, but to guide listeners somewhere unexpected, at the song or album's conclusion.