Suche:burnt by the sun

Intricate structures with an intertwining of spontaneity and randomness, meeting the diverse genre influences of the band members from mediaeval music to shoegaze to noise. That is Unravel, the new album, and first in six years, from Czech band Manon Meurt.
"Unravel reflects the different stages of dissociation, a person's thoughts, observations - whether of the environment or of oneself - and admiration for the beauty and cruelty that nature mirrors," multi-instrumentalist and lyricist Kateřina Elznicová says of the album.
Produced by Eddie Stevens (Freakpower, Zero 7, Moloko, Roisin Murphy) the album was pieced together from recorded fragments, meticulously pieced together. The title Unravel refers to the development of the band, unravelling what they are to find the full potential of their music as well as uncovering the layered nature of the songs and emotions.
"Eddie Stevens’ approach to recording was a big surprise. We understood that there was no one right version of the songs. Each of our themes carries a certain energy that can manifest and blossom in many ways. Compared to previous records, the vision of each member was much more evident, while we learned not to cling to our individual ideas of a signifying break or a nu-metal bounce at the end of an ambient song. The main thing was a common concept," adds keyboardist David Tichý on creating the seven songs on the record.
Abum producer Eddie Stevens describes the collaboration, “Each album is an adventure. You do some preparation, check the route over and over, prepare for any eventuality that your packing space and imagination will allow, plan some places to stop and rest en route, places to eat, sleep, then consider the challenges - the ice wall, the summit, even just finding your way in foreign land. But despite all that planning, you can never really say for sure what’s going to happen, what unexpected path you might take, what strangers might invite you in for a cup of tea and to what ends. So it was making Unravel with Manon Meurt and engineer and studio owner Lukas Martinek at Svárov studios and of course back home in the relative safety of my studio. Musicians who quickly became friends showed me more than I showed them, people with ideas, with creativity seeping from their pores. Music making the right way: no blinkers, no walls, no preconceptions, no barriers, no rules. What a pleasure, and what a magical, technicoloured,
kaleidoscopic album we’ve made together, “
The combination of industrial material with plant motifs in the work Untitled_1 by Ukrainian artist Liza Libenko, which adorns the cover of Unravel, strongly attracted the band. After all, floral motifs have always been close to Manon Meurt's music. Libenko, a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and a finalist of the prestigious Austrian Strabag Artaward International Prize, has recently been working on overcoming the narrative boundaries of the canvas, the paintings "attack"the viewer. Sunflowers are a powerful symbol of life and the sun; in Libenko's paintings they are black and burnt, serving as an allegory for contemporary conditions. The work was photographed by photographer and artist Marcel Rozhoň, and the final processing of the Unravel album was done by graphic artist Zuzana Malá.

Released by Hegoa Records and Night School Records.
Greatest Heads is the fourth album by the radical Basque- Berlinesque group Al Karpenter. A deconstruction of structured “rock” music, here Al Karpenter re-imagine “the band” to explore the intersection between Free music, afro-beat, the avant garde and gonzo rock.
If Theodore Adorno wrote “To Write Poetry after Auschwitz is Barbaric” in 1949, Al Karpenter attempts to answer the difficult question today; what kind of music can be done in the face of a genocide? Álvaro Matilla, Marta Sainz, Enrique Zaccagnini & Mattin’s response to the planet’s slipping into a vortex of hate is to create a music ecstatic, a music of protest bursting with multiple musical languages and glossaries, full of overlapping histories and thrilling tensions.
Greatest Heads posits a plurality of musics both in opposition and intertwined: Al Karpenter play rock instruments pulled apart in the studio in post-production. Distorted rhythm chunks bit-crushed and dissipated, segments of freedom oppressed by waves of sound invading from every direction. The interplay between the chief instrumentalists and renowned, storied sound artist Mattin creates something akin to ESP freedom-seekers Cro Magnon playing in Miles Davis’ early 70s groups, The Los Angeles Free Music Society tightening up into a clenched fist of plunderphonics and runaway percussion.
We Are All Karpenters opens Greatest Heads with the most straight-forward song refrain of the record accompanied by a band that soon crash into eruption, imagining Sun City Girls in full free rock mode.
The modulating synth sound soon sucks the band into its wake to create a spine-chilling climax of distorted sound, made fully orgasmic with mastering engineer Rashad Becker’s attention to detail. On Izugarrizko Buruak (Greatest Heads), Matilla intones in Basque over a mangled distorto-beat. A Brand New Astraphobia creates a black space for a heavily processed guitar to blow up before falling to earth at night, a gentle figure serenading the coming end.
On Side B, the band begins by being masticated by a brutal phaser, squelching and stretching the music into new territories. The overt message of Stop The Genocide! is besieged by violence before Worm City aggressively samples the ghosts of soul music, mixing in noise bursts, prepared piano and swiping, abstracted sound. Epic closer Perfect Love feels like a beat poetry performance on a burnt world, still grasping for community, for home, for some sort of human love. A Mad love, then; an angry love fuelled by solidarity and collaboration.
The band’s cascading layers of references and polyglottal musics attempt to create the perfect lover, alive with rage and disorientating ecstasy: Al Karpenter.

Though they may not have intended to do so, Naptown's trinity, also known as 81355 (pronounced BLESS), rang out as revolutionaries with their 2021 debut record This Time I'll be of Use. When Oreo Jones, Sirius Blvck, and Sedcairn come together, genre evaporates into enthralling poeticism and sonic hypnosis. Their sophomore LP Bad Dogs, releasing July 11th on Joyful Noise Recordings, acts as an expansive continuation of 81355's signature sound: an angelic, gritty, enthralling urban hymnal for the disillusioned mind. The history of 81355 stretches far back into the history of Naptown's creative scene. Jones and Blvck struck a match as one of Indy's most influential hip-hop collectives, Ghost Gun Summer, before they brought on Sedcairn (Moose Adamson) in 2020. Before Adamson infused 81355 with his melodic soundscapes, he produced Grampall Jookabox, an underground indie meets jangle pop project. Though they may be known primarily for their musical notoriety, the members of 81355 are steadfast in their commitment to uplifting their community with collective creative expansion. Sean (Oreo Jones), alongside his partner Jane Sun Kim, produces and curates Chreece, the largest Midwestern Hip-Hop festival hosted in the heart of Naptown. Niq (Sirius Blvck) is pivotal in the empowerment and advancement of Indy Hunger Network, a local non profit that addresses food insecurity across Indianapolis. Moose (Sedcairn) is a key contributor to Joyful Noise, an Indy based independent label cutting records for artists of all genres. For the first time, the project's live band is part of the production, with Sharlene Birdsong on bass guitar, Dimitri Morris on guitar, and Pat Okerson on drums. The Bad Dogs listening experience also seeps into visual realms: a short film titled Sleep Study will be released in tandem. Sleep Study_soundtracked, written, and produced by 81355, who also star in the film alongside friends and fellow artists from the community_features afrofuturistic sci-fi undertones that explore the toxifying implications of algorithmic control, postmodern brain rot, and late-stage capitalism. As the texturally emotive punctum of its cover art (painted by Stockholm based artist Julia de Ruvo) conveys, the heart of Bad Dogs draws its perseverance from the wild reservation dogs pulsing through the rust-hued indigenous lands of New Mexico and beyond. They are untethered in their roaming, sacred in their fierce communal belonging, yet undefined by a physical place. A vital essence mirrored by 81355: boundaryless, primal creative cultivation that defies what some may attempt to categorize as hip hop or progressive rap.

Written and recorded in a firestorm of creativity during the mastering phase of Lukah's upcoming double LP with Real Bad Man, Permanent Blackface is a monstrous vignette displaying the true power of Lukah's songwriting and the technical brilliance of his team. The album flashes before you like a lightning strike illuminating a barren cityscape.

Introducing himself as Mr. Blackface, Lukah identifies the true artist's responsibility to hold a mirror to the listener in order to confront and disarm taboos. In both content and music, the record balances vulgarity and introspection, the horror of silence, and the comfort of colossal, discordant sound. Over 12 songs the celestial, often blood-soaked color palette of soul and R&B that gave emotional weight to Why Look Up and Raw Extractions has been scraped away like a charred skeleton. With a small cast of voices consisting entirely of Lukah's immediate family, and production duties handled in-house by WALZ, Deener, Hollow Sol, Cities Aviv, SB11, and Lukah himself, the record has the intimacy of a theater production. The only voices present are Lukah, joined by his mother providing scat vocals, and his grandfather discussing the Jungian self-hatred of the colonial project and its terrifying repercussions for contemporary Black Amer-icans, with a fitting invocation of Dr. Frankenstein's monster. The beats here are reminiscent of noir, 78rpm swing and big band, evoking the underlying horror of a pre-Civil Rights movement America, where segregational binaries invert-ed folk tales through the white terror of ghosts, the black "spook", and mythic themes of fate and free will. The whip-lash of shifting perspectives keeps your head on a swivel in way only Lukah's superior pen can elucidate. Will it trigger anger that first voice you hear on Permanent Blackface is Judy Garland singing "Sweet Chariot"? But isn't this just Lukah speaking through her, announcing he's got "The Southin his mouth"? As the internet endlessly debates intention and appropriation in our artistic history, the insignificance of this small sample is put into perspective: another white pebble in a black ocean of Lukah's creation. "If the sun don't shine today / pray the sun come out tomorrow...pray the sun pierce through the sorrow"

The album introduces an unnamed character beset by disposition. As the story's scope increases, the gaze of the mir-ror shifts. How would white society feel if historical roles were reversed? How does a presumed white listener experi-ence the trauma of interacting with police?

Just a little over two years since the release of his debut album Opening the Door, Jack re-emgerges with a new full length album. On Blue Desert, the Australian-born Vancouver-based multi-instrumentalist, singer, songwriter and producer wades deeper into the stylistically prismatic pool of his own creation: melancholy dub-funk, jangling psychedelia, moon-burnt sophisti-pop and stained glass folk mutations float freely together.

Just a little over two years since the release of his debut album Opening the Door, Jack re-emgerges with a new full length album. On Blue Desert, the Australian-born Vancouver-based multi-instrumentalist, singer, songwriter and producer wades deeper into the stylistically prismatic pool of his own creation: melancholy dub-funk, jangling psychedelia, moon-burnt sophisti-pop and stained glass folk mutations float freely together.

Entirely self-produced at Mood Hut Studios in Chinatown, Vancouver between 2022 and 2024, the album picks up where Opening the Door left off; the songwriting concise and refined, the voice front and centre on almost every song, the pensive mood irresistible and dense.

The apparently effortless melodic interplay of voice, guitar, synthesizers and bass that Jack is well known for is ever present but despite the clear-eyed harmonies and energetic rhythms there is a shadow that quietly haunts the album. The lyrical buoyancy of his early EPs and even some of the more explicitly sunburnt instrumental moments of his last record have continued to fade and peel like paint. Regret, remorse and melancholy are woven into almost every turn of phrase; the self-deprecating longing of Tracey Thorn and Sade Adu can be heard alongside the plaintive echos of Mark Hollis and Arthur Russell. The Mood Hut Records founder and NTS host digs deeper in all the directions that he only brushed upon on Opening the Door, creating a kaleidoscopic index of his omnivorous listening habits: from Underworld to Kate Bush, Disco Inferno to Bryan Ferry, Julian Cope to Arthur Verocai.

The LP will be released on Jack’s own Mood Hut Records on November 1st and will be followed by a live tour in the UK and Europe in November and December, featuring a string of dates opening for revered Los Angeles artist Jessica Pratt.
- Mood Hut Records, Vancouver

Produced by Jack Jutson at Mood Hut Studios, Chinatown Vancouver
Mixed by Jack Jutson and CZ Wang
Saxophone by Linda Fox
Strings on Falling Down a Well by Aiden Ayers
Bass on Down the Line by Diego Herrera
Additional synth on Red Cloud by Liam Butler
Artwork by Mela Melania + Jack Jutson






e A5. Pink Shoes Part I





Part II

The sophomore effort from Gray/Smith refines their petroleum-based, hard-lullaby sound with a decidedly dusty precision. To call this pair's brand of country-rock détournement "cosmic" would be too breezy: L. Gray and Rob Smith prefer to stare into sunken depths, channeling their recondite affections for lay-by mauve zones and red-dirt guitar wanderings. Formed in the outer-edges of Kings and Richmond counties circa 2020, Gray/Smith is something of an East-Coast involution. L. Gray (guitar and vocals) and Rob Smith (drums, guitar and vocals) are both trusty veterans of "band's bands" like Pigeons (Soft Abuse), No-Neck Blues Band (Revenant, Locust), Rhyton (Thrill Jockey), and The Suntanama (Drag City), freewheeling groups known for mining from polyglot sources: rough-hewn folk and the spiritual avant-garde, bargain-bin hard rock and and collector's-choice psychedelia alike. On their first, self-released LP Gray/Smith, serendipitously recorded at Gary's Electric at the top of 2021, the pair trained their assured chops onto the great American song-form, honing a murky but tight approach that variously cribs "urban cowboy" and finger-picked primitivism. A string of cryptic appearances soon followed, including a short-lived residency at a now-shuttered vodka dive; a micro-tour with Coloradan songstress Josephine Foster; and a series of backyard and barroom gigs sharing stages with compatriots like Stella Kola, Blues Ambush, Samara Lubelski, and Wednesday Knudsen. Heels in the Aisle is the slipshod, burnt-out, mid-'70s unter-prog comedown to their debut's backwoods, bushy-tailed, early-'70s, country-rock meanderings_expect more unrestrained riffs, artful studio wizardry, and worn-down introspection. Joining the ranks of bloodshot-eyed, blues-rock medleys à la Canned Heat's "Parthenogenesis" and Grand Funk's "Into The Sun," "The SDSPS" is the nearly side-length opening cut, an expanded song-cycle condensing and riffing on the themes of their debut. "Help Me" ventriloquizes Pomona College outlaw Kris Kristofferson's slow-roaring ballad of libidinal woe. On the flip side, "Verrazano Tile" and the title track pay heed to lower bays of Staten Island, while their arrangement of the traditional Zimbabwean tune "Guabi Guabi" is a bright Dead/Feat-like jaunt with blissed-out wah-wah pay-off. "Gaslight Boulevard" is lean, mean, and eight-beers-in space rock, and the closing track "Kekule's Ring" is a slack-jawed, wistful crash back down to earth. All this, packaged in a luxe, expertly-printed sleeve photographed by downtown artist Lary 7 and designed by Eric Wrenn (Sophie's Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides).

New Jackson marks his long awaited follow-up to 2017’s From Night To Night with its successor OOPS!... POP for long-time collaborators Permanent Vacation. A concise triumph in techno pop, its 9 tracks elevate his signature electronic sounds into anthemic new heights.
David Kitt is a prolific sonic polymath who’s enjoyed a colourful career making whatever he likes.
While releasing music under a vast array of aliases and collaborations for close to two and a half decades, New Jackson has remained his irregular home since 2011 for when ‘at one with the machines’. It offers a kaleidoscopic window into his love of dance music, and on his debut album under the alias From Night To Night (released in 2017 on Dublin’s All City label) he unfurled his singular vision; a dilated suite of nocturnal soul coaxed from his beloved electronic equipment with songwriter’s nous, sonically etched as blunted whispers coalesced from the dusky billows of Dublin bay. Further EPs and singles followed, alongside a beloved live show he toured globally, plus detours with his critically-lauded Garies duo (with Lumigraph) and a David Kitt solo album.
In the time since his New Jackson debut, he’s slowly distilled his studio methodology to help mine the true core of his musical self. Within this experimentation, he has stumbled upon the bounty that is OOPS!... POP, his most direct and euphoric body of work to date. Recorded across the span of five years and three different countries, Kitt has managed to transform his beloved alias into a leaner beast, tightening the screws around arrangements and songwriting to inspire an album sonically effortless in demeanour and spontaneously playful in structure and form. Aided by a stacked cast of collaborators including Rita Lynn, Donnacha Costello, Riche “Jape” Egan, Yenkee, Kean Kavanagh, Margie Jean Lewis, Meg Cronin and Fehdah, it bears the hallmarks of the studio albums of yesteryear in its dynamism and gratification while drawing on his rich bouquet of influences across a century of recorded music.
Opener SI SI SI lulls you in with its smothered vocoder’d croons and patient groove, BURNT DEEP next yields a surprising deep house turn, lit gently with casual hedonism. LIKE rewires the playbook entirely, shuffling along its minimal 80’s boogie groove with a cheeky grin, before lead single OUT OF REACH further mines the golden pastures with its glorious stuttering techno power-pop fit with that anthemic chorus. DAY IN SHOCK digi-dubs around the wonderful vocal turn of Fehdah in purest heads-down manner, then THE OK HOLE and STROBE both descend the psychedelic wormhole of anaesthetised breaks and electro with its entranced dancefloor gaze. I WANNA BE ADORED, the Madchester anthem from The Stone Roses, is then surprisingly reimagined as a lost kraut-pop robo sung classic while WITH THE NIGHT AT OUR FEET is our climactic conclusion, a mechanised symphony of dual proportions; a humane core of angelic harmonies chugging along in electro rhythm before soaring strings take us on our way.
New Jackson’s oeuvre, indeed David Kitt’s musical world, is vast; OOPS!... POP then might just be his opus across it all, a towering achievement of soaring catharsis in melody and song that soundtracks the most direct transmissions from his heart to yours

Deprived of sanity, Paul Régimbeau aka Mondkopf found new territories of expression with »Spring Stories«, a collection of post-rapture moods full of glorious chaos, ready to absorb and re-ignite all that is worn.

As a phoenix raising from the ashes, »Spring Stories« captures the earth in full bloom. Darkness & Insanity looses it´s grips as the roots and fresh leaves creates a slow dance towards the sun. Similarly sine-wave drones move around exploding electric guitar improvisations as new light beams on shadow cast corners. The album feels like a 60ies jam set in the post-world psychedelic underground. Heavy, absurd, beautiful and ready to sooth burnt out, depleted minds. Paul has citied that he´s affected as much by folk improvisors such as Master Wilburn Burchette & Robbie Basho as well as the doom drone of giants Earth & Sunn O))). Spring Stories invokes on these, while feeling like a personal blow-out, coming right from the core. Touching and grand, like spring itself.

The album also features Frederic D. Oberland on two tracks playing variously Duduk & Alto Saxophone. Lastly, The Necks drummer Tony Buck shakes & rattles all over the final - and seriously epic - piece “Continuation”, as the world aligns while the sun rises over its near-dead shape.

Lifted From Hubbard's Lauded 1979 Lp 'the Love Connection', This Sublime Piece Of Melodic, Deep, Soul/Jazz Will Have Ears And Minds Open With It's Instantly Recognisable Opening String Sequence.

Used To Devastating Effect On Pepe Bradock's All-time 1999 Deep-house Classic 'deep Burnt', Those Sweeping Strings Capture Us And Lead Us Into A Epic Journey With The Wondrous Vocal Stylings Of The Legendary Singer Al Jarreau.

This Is Prime Early Morning Music, Pushing All The Right Buttons & Spreading Light Wherever It Is Played, A Beautiful Beautiful Record Indeed! What Is Essentially An Extended And Rearranged Version Of Hubbard's 1967 Original, The '79 Version Of 'little Sunflower' Boasts A Sumptuous Arrangement & Production From The Mighty Claus Ogerman (Ben E King, Mel Torme, Bill Evans, Antonio Carlos Jobim & More).

A Truly Wondrous Piece Of Music, Reissued On A Single Side In It's Full 12" Length Of 9+ Minutes From The Source Archive Audio. Fully Legit, Licensed And Reissued With Love By Above Board Distribution And Columbia Records/Sony Bmg For Record Store Day, 2019.

In the gutter lie sun dried leaves, scraps of paper, burnt matches and cigarette butts. It is early morning; the sun rises with warm grace. you've come to the right party... you see, the body of a young man sitting by a pool, nobody important, really. Just a movie writer with a couple of "b" pictures to his credit. He always wanted a pool. Well, in the end he got himself a pool, but let's go back some time and find the day when it all started in “Hollywood,” the place where they pay a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul.

Three years after he celebrated “Sketch of Japan” EP, Superpitcher returns to Mule Musiq, bringing an epic super-pitched 40 minutes trip named “Hollywood”, that perfectly works as the score for the above remixed opening scene of a famous movie on the trances of Hollywood, the cage, that catch our dreams. It’s a slow grower, incorporating some of core elements of the city of celluloid dreams: action, drama, romance - all epic noir and yet so flooded by light. As ever the producer and DJ from Paris garnished his long building up and going down voyage with se-ducing melodies, glamorous pop, and psychic rhythms, creating the hippy dance ambiences he is famed for. Even though the twelve inch comes in accustomed a/b chapters, “Hollywood” should be perceived in one go to feel the depth of Superpitcher’s tropical leaning story arc, that stretches the idea of a track into a dream of satin teardrops on flickering velvet lights. It paints sonic celluloid pictures of ghostly creatures, while a female/male voice is the music’s constant melodic companion, injection Janus-faced longing dream pop spheres on the overall tripping house melancholy. A heroic electronic drama, elegant as Tamara de Lempicka painting. It asks for endless rides on the Hollywood freeways. in the back the sun – a big orange ball – sinking slowly below the horizon.

You've come to the right party... you see, the body of a young man sitting by a pool, in the back a long, graceful bar, bathed in soft light, filled with elegant customers. There's nothing else, just us and the music and those wonderful people out there in the dark, ready for a divine dance in closeup.

'You are Nowhere' is the epic metallic hardcore collaborative effort
between hardcore stalwart front man extraordinaire Rob Fusco (One King
Down, Most Precious Blood, Recon) and Rafe Holmes (Insvrgence)
Take Life is the focus of decades of metal/hardcore songwriting experience and
unbridled expression boasting the feral, frenetic musical energy of bands like Kiss
It Goodbye and Burnt By The Sun and the scathing lyrical content and emotive
vocal performances which have been Fusco's trademark.
'You are Nowhere' was produced, mixed, and mastered by legendary metalcore
mastermind Randy Leboeuf (The Acacia Strain)

Much in demand album from 1986.

Not much is known about the mysterious pop sensation Vumani or his short musical career. Originally from KwaZulu Natal he made his way to Johannesburg in the mid 80’s to follow his dream of becoming a recording artist. He was able to make that dream come true when talent scouts from Decibel Music came across the charismatic youngster. At the time Decibel was still a small fish trying to make waves and the label believed in Vumani they had found the star they were looking for. Being a label with mostly groups signed to the catalog they needed a Front Man to push into the growing demand for Solo Artists that were dominating the airwaves and catching the hearts of youngsters.

Up to this point Decibel had one major hit record. In 1986 they released a single by an artist named David Thanzwane. The music was a direct rip off of the first hit Single by Shangaan Disco pioneer Paul Ndlovu. Copying the music of both sides of the original single the “covers” offered different lyrics and hooks also sung in xiTsonga. This was enough to trick the masses and the single led to record sales for the small label. The unintentional outcome of the single was that from then on the producers and label had one sound they wanted to pump out in hopes of recreating that magic. This desire to create another Shangaan Disco hit would be the backbone of the Vumani sound and what makes his music so special and collectable after all these years.

That same year Vumani would release two Singles, Black Mampatile and Guy Fawkes. Musically these playful and fun singles would have great appeal to youngsters as they sung of daily life in the Townships. Black Mampatile being a game of Hide and Seek, Banana Kari referring to the trucks that would go around the Township exchanging chips and snacks for glass bottles and of course every child’s favourite reason the dress up on November 5th, Guy Fawkes Day. Both singles were received well and a few more tracks were later recorded to create the full album Isiqedakoma. Although he would sing in Zulu the music was unmistakable for Shangaan Disco. The synth heavy bass lines and happy melodies along with relatable fun lyrics were a perfect blend for an album that would make people dance if they were out at a Tavern or Shabeen on a weekend or just enjoying at home with family and friends.

Vumani quickly became the Label’s top priority with managers making sure he always had the freshest clothing styles to go along with his persona, and he never missed any performances or opportunities to impress a crowd. His popularity grew in the Township’s but with that came the unfortunate and all too common problems with fame. He started getting mixed with wrong crowds. He would record another album for Miracle Music, the Decibel sub label that had emerged to focus on the more underground sounds of the post synth pop era. Musically things were going well for Vumani but it would be his life off the stage that would catch up with him. Always known for his commitment to his music and fans one day he uncharacteristically failed to show up and was never heard from again. His body would later be found in a burnt car on the outskirts of Soweto. What led to his tragic death was never known but with the company he kept it is not hard to imagine what one of the many situations that led to that horrific ending could be. His funeral was attended by the entire Township it seemed as people packed the service and flowed out onto the streets, a testament to his popularity and the love the people had for one of their own.

Having taken a break from music for a few years, South London’s ME REX began life in 2018 in the home of songwriter Myles McCabe experimenting with shouty, electronic bedroom pop. Armed with a slew of “surging gargantuan hooks” and themes of friendship, forgiveness, joy and dinosaurs, McCabe was quickly joined by longtime friends Kathryn Woods (guitar/vocals), Phoebe Cross (drums/vocals) and Rich Mandell (bass/keys/vocals). Now, graduated from producing songs at home to recording at Resident Studios in North London with Mandell behind the mixing desk: ME REX spent the latter half of 2020 bashing down the doors to the indie world with double EP ‘Triceratops/Stegosuarus’. Finding their penchant for constructing delicate threads of vocal layering to convey feelings of calm while building on luscious swathes of reverberated guitar and keys on single ‘Rites’, the band are not afraid to explore different musical concepts: shaping material that strays from traditional album and single structures that results in a sound that could easily find a home on the big screen as they do behind closed doors. Described as “making for both a potent and cathartic listen all round” by DIY magazine — as well as seeing praise from Stereogum, BBC 6Music, Radio X, Amazing Radio, For The Rabbits and Circuit Sweet — ME REX are back with a new and ambitious project ‘Megabear’, an album made up of 52 tracks that has no beginning or end but exists as a cyclical body of work.

Lingering at the remains of a campfire before dawn, with the politics of the personal burnt into ash, running his stick through what’s left, Wand singer/guitarist Cory Hanson is reflecting on a series of moments in which he steps farther into himself, finding the ultimate big sky country on the inside of his skull. It’s a combination of songs and sounds that journey
through bleak and broken territory and places of sweet, lush remove and it adds up to the best record he’s been involved in yet: his second solo album, ‘Pale Horse Rider’.

 Cory’s first solo, ‘The Unborn Capitalist From Limbo’, was an intense affair, a grand experiment that produced inspiring,
nconventional music - but this time around, he wanted to breathe a bit easier, to feel that breath in the music as well. So he and his band drove out to the desert to record in a lowstress environment: Brian Harris’ Cactopia, a house surrounded by 6ft tall sculptural psychotropic cacti. They built a studio inside and then they made music and lived off pots of coffee and chili and cases of Miller High Life as they played guitars, bass, keyboards and drums in what seemed increasingly like a living biomech, their tech made out of fungal networks and cacti needles.

 It was loose and flowed onto tape well. Recorded by Robbie Cody and Zac Hernandez (who assisted on Wand’s ‘Laughing Matter’), the sounds were great from the get-go. First takes were mostly best takes. Fuelled with DNA lifted from country-rock cut with native psych and prog strands, Cory guided his craft toward the cosmic side of the highway, a benevolent alien in ambient fields hazy with heat and synths, early morning fog and space echo spreading the harmonies wide.

 ‘Pale Horse Rider’’s got a lot to get out of its mind, looking around and seeing that, on the surface, things don’t always look like much. A lifelong Californian, Cory’s naturally found himself standing to the left of most of the
country. The west may be only what you make it; these days, the roadside view looks exceptionally sunbleached and left behind. ‘Pale Horse Rider’ eyes the city, the country and the fragile environment that holds them both in its hands - a record as much about Los Angeles as it can be with its back to the town and the sun in its eyes; as much about
ostalgia as new music can be with the apocalypse over the next rise.

 On ‘Pale Horse Rider’, Cory Hanson moves ceaselessly forward. The old myths weave and waft, the shadows of tombstones flickering in the mirages and the light that lies dead ahead.

Lingering at the remains of a campfire before dawn, with the politics of the personal burnt into ash, running his stick through what’s left, Wand singer/guitarist Cory Hanson is reflecting on a series of moments in which he steps farther into himself, finding the ultimate big sky country on the inside of his skull. It’s a combination of songs and sounds that journey
through bleak and broken territory and places of sweet, lush remove and it adds up to the best record he’s been involved in yet: his second solo album, ‘Pale Horse Rider’.

 Cory’s first solo, ‘The Unborn Capitalist From Limbo’, was an intense affair, a grand experiment that produced inspiring,
nconventional music - but this time around, he wanted to breathe a bit easier, to feel that breath in the music as well. So he and his band drove out to the desert to record in a lowstress environment: Brian Harris’ Cactopia, a house surrounded by 6ft tall sculptural psychotropic cacti. They built a studio inside and then they made music and lived off pots of coffee and chili and cases of Miller High Life as they played guitars, bass, keyboards and drums in what seemed increasingly like a living biomech, their tech made out of fungal networks and cacti needles.

 It was loose and flowed onto tape well. Recorded by Robbie Cody and Zac Hernandez (who assisted on Wand’s ‘Laughing Matter’), the sounds were great from the get-go. First takes were mostly best takes. Fuelled with DNA lifted from country-rock cut with native psych and prog strands, Cory guided his craft toward the cosmic side of the highway, a benevolent alien in ambient fields hazy with heat and synths, early morning fog and space echo spreading the harmonies wide.

 ‘Pale Horse Rider’’s got a lot to get out of its mind, looking around and seeing that, on the surface, things don’t always look like much. A lifelong Californian, Cory’s naturally found himself standing to the left of most of the
country. The west may be only what you make it; these days, the roadside view looks exceptionally sunbleached and left behind. ‘Pale Horse Rider’ eyes the city, the country and the fragile environment that holds them both in its hands - a record as much about Los Angeles as it can be with its back to the town and the sun in its eyes; as much about
ostalgia as new music can be with the apocalypse over the next rise.

 On ‘Pale Horse Rider’, Cory Hanson moves ceaselessly forward. The old myths weave and waft, the shadows of tombstones flickering in the mirages and the light that lies dead ahead.

“Ta Da” is the debut full length from J. McFarlane Reality Guest, the collective name for the trio headed by the eponymous McFarlane. As a member of the group Twerps, McFarlane has traversed guitar-centric, melodic pop music for some years while honing a highly unique, personal musical language. Ta Da is the first recorded unveiling of McFarlane’s affecting, oblique songwriting panache. Originally released in her native Australia on Hobbies Galore, Ta Da will be released worldwide by Night School in June 2019.

Wheezing into view with a troubled reed instrument set against a s of whoozy synth lines, Human Tissue Act is a foggy curtain the listener is invited to peel back. The dissonant notes are left to dance entwined, with clarinet heralding a Harry Partch-esque mallet percussion interlude. It’s a mood. With no resolution in sight, an audience dragged closer into uncertainty is suddenly drenched with the light of inter-weaving wah wah synth and saxophone. I Am A Toy introduces us to McFarlane’s vocal, an effortless and matter-of-fact, accented statement that quietly takes the reins. While McFarlane’s previous work in Twerps might reference 80s UK and antipodean guitar pop, Ta Da showcases a different influences immersed in psychedelic music and synths. It’s a brilliant, deft concoction swimming in Young Marble Giants-type minimalism washed with bare pop and harmony similar to Kevin Ayers making sense of a Melbourne suburb full of faces half-recognised in the blanching sun.

What Has He Bought begins with a Casio-keyboard rhythm pattern, palm-muted guitars and immaculately enunciated vocal give way to a burnt melodica part that elevates the spirits. Simple patterns repeated, like a well-tempered pop song that does what it needs to do and no more, build into the sound of summer leaking orange juice. They’re moments of joy, layered on top of each other like a melting cake. Do You Like What I’m Sayin’ recalls Marine Girls covering a classic ‘66 Garage nugget, organ lines fighting funk with guitar chords played just behind the percussion. “In a talking world, meanings are the same. Words want to hold on to the people they contain. Do you like what I’m sayin’?” We’re in a Beckett play perhaps, obtuse absurdities rendered pretty. Alien Ceremony is a heart-melter, given a melancholic timbre by bowed double bass it’s a tragi-comic piece that almost reeks of Robert Wyatt at his mid-whimsical twisting a fugue completely out of shape. Beneath the layers of harmony and twinkling instrumentation you sense there’s a genuine sadness somewhere even if it remains veiled.

Through out Ta Da, McFarlane plays with counterpoint and contrast to sometimes delirious effect. On Your Torturer, a simple, upbeat chord progression is hard panned, underpinning a flute solo which seems out of place, hence making it completely in place on this warmly surreal album. My Enemy is a slowly swinging eulogy to a failed relationship punctuated by analogue synth burbles, with our protagonist simply asking, in the aftermath, “can we be nice?” Here McFarlane’s vocal is straight forward, lyrically conversational but still not completely in focus, a surreal kitchen sink drama filtered through a dream where everything is in the wrong place. It’s a fine precursor to Heartburn, which similarly borrows BBC Radiophonic Workshop-style noise synths and the use of space to carve up the simple “You Will Make My Heart Burn” line. At this point, the listener has been in such close proximity to McFarlane’s show, the reality guest in a performance where they’re the sole audience member, that when Where Are You My Love rises on the horizon as a sleepy, psychedelic send off it’s uplifting. The vocal drifts away into the sunset, simple and direct. It leaves the listener slightly confused, perhaps, but grateful for the gentle surprise.