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Trystero returns with their new album Humming Fuzz on Knekelhuis — a kaleidoscopic voyage deeper into the band’s expanding cosmos.

Built on plunging basslines, acid-drenched loops, and spiraling kraut-inspired guitar textures, the record drifts between hypnotic repetition and free-flowing, hallucinatory songwriting. It echoes the visionary spirit of Psychic TV and the genre-blurring universe of Weatherall, while carving out a raw, magnetic space of its own.

Recorded once again on a canal barge in the North of France, Humming Fuzz feels like a natural evolution from their debut Sfumare e Vedere — denser, more alive, and charged with electricity. Now expanded with Nelly on bass and Alexia on vocals, Trystero channels this expanded energy into their wild, expressive live performances, soon to ignite audiences on their upcoming tours.

Hailing from Raw Culture, Anna Funk Damage returns with his third release on the Roman label, delivering a record as fierce as it is intimate. Tarantola was born out of a winter suspended between contrasting emotions – melancholy, anger, love, confusion – distilled into a sound that transforms personal fragility into collective energy. There’s no pursuit of perfection here, but rather an urgency running through the veins, taking shape across supersonic punk, wave, ambient and industrial.

Each track is an emotional fragment, a bite that leaves its mark: from the electric tension of Vivere Distaccati to the feverish rush of Trasmissione, from the rawness of Decadente to the hypnotic title track Tarantola, which embodies the beating heart of the album. Side B unfolds into more nocturnal and intimate landscapes, from Chiang Mai to the disenchanted sincerity of Lavoro Troppo, closing with a party that carries the bittersweet taste of reality.

Tarantola is a journey into the chaos of human emotions, an album that doesn’t just narrate but pulls you deep into its sonic labyrinth, giving noise back its vulnerable yet powerful soul.

‘Aurelia’ is another atmospheric masterpiece by Boozoo Bajou.

Deep atmospheric soundscapes have always been a part of Boozoo Bajou during their 27 years as producers. Each of their previous five albums had those almost beatless melancholic beauties as part of the musical presentation.

Since this is a key element, Peter Heider and Florian Seyberth aka Boozoo Bajou decided to dedicate a new six-track album, called ‘Aurelia’, to this genre of music which might be called Ambient but is rather a free flow through their musical minds.

Based on a warm analogue mix, there are various instruments giving guidance to this journey, enriching the overall quality of this new output from Boozoo Bajou.

Following the success of Highly Refined Pirates' forward-thinking guitar gymnastics and Menos El Oso's groundbreaking glitch rock, Seattle's premier pop revisionists Minus The Bear dug into some of rock music's most ostentatious years for inspiration for their 2007 album, Planet of Ice. The title alone conjures images of Yes's Relayer album art, and the influence of the elder statesmen's symphonic scope can be felt throughout Planet of Ice's lush and intricate arrangements. You can also hear the band channel the ominous instrumental interplay of Lamb-era Genesis on "Dr. L'Ling", the deceptively savvy musicianship and pristine production of Steely Dan on "White Mystery", and the tightrope walk between ethereal space and pre-metal riffage of Pink Floyd's "Echoes" on "Lotus". Not that Minus The Bear completely abandoned their earlier style_elements of Menos El Oso's sample-driven technique can be heard on the lead single "Knights". But the heart of the song ultimately belongs to the haunting Fripp-esque guitar lines spliced between verses. After being out of print on record since 2010, Suicide Squeeze is proud to reintroduce Planet of Ice's creative marriage of classic motifs and modern musical wizardry with a vinyl remaster courtesy of Bernie Grundman.

‘Icon’ is an overused word when it comes to describing singers and musicians, but when it comes to Nina Simone there are few artists that the word describes more accurately. The ‘High Priestess Of Soul’ is surely one of the most iconic singers of the 20th century, and one whose fame and acclaim stretches far beyond conventional black American music circles. 

Nina Simone has featured on Ace and Kent CDs before but this is the first time she’s had one all to herself. “Let It All Out” is the first and only Nina Simone collection to draw repertoire from every label she recorded for between the late 1950s to the late 1970s. 

Not a traditional ‘Best Of’ or ‘Greatest Hits’ package (although the performances included here ARE among her very best, and do include most of her Greatest Hits!) it is a singles collection that presents Nina Simone’s soul and R&B-slanted 45s in chronological order. Invariably they are the definitive versions of the songs, whether she recorded the original versions or not. 

As well as almost all of her American pop and R&B chart hits from 1960 onwards, “Let It All Out” also contains all of Simone’s UK chart hits from the same period – several of which were more successful here than they were back home, including both versions of her biggest British hit ‘Ain’t Got No; I Got Life’, a UK #2 that did not chart at all in the US as was the case with the belated UK Top 5 hit ‘My Baby Just Cares For Me’ which also made no chart impression on its home turf…

Carefully curated and concisely annotated, “Let It All Out” lets the listener in to two dozen of Nina Simone’s most celebrated singles. There have been many compilations of her works since she passed away 20+ years ago, but none that gets to the heart – and soul – of her catalogue in quite so direct a manner as this one does. 

The most inspiring bands are the ones that can create a world around themselves that is about far more than just the music. The artwork, lyrics, sounds and ethos all merge together perfectly to create its own universe, a secret club. The Lovely Eggs are one such band. And against all the odds, 2025 sees them celebrate their 20th anniversary as a band! Stubbornly and heroically independent, The Lovely Eggs have forged their own path and have achieved mainstream success without ever compromising their DIY ethics. Released on their own label Egg Records, with eye watering artwork by Casey Raymond and hand packed in a black plastic bin bag on neon toxic slime green vinyl, this is yet another collectible release from a band who care as much about the art and ideas in their records as they do about the sound. "We had all these spare songs after we released our last album Eggsistentialism and we didn't really know what to do with them," explained Holly. "They just didn't seem to fit in with the vibe of Eggsistentialism but we'd recorded them and wanted to get them out there." "They're kind of a sketchbook of songs," added David. "They're not polished or laboured over but we thought it would be interesting to release them. It's why we called the record Bin Juice. These were songs we had thrown away. But hopefully people like going through bins collecting trash."

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

Lénok’s 'Langue of Tongue' is a descent. An unhinged pinballing down a realm of incomprehension and lunacy, a darkly psychedelic ego-death-spiral into a world of pure, deranged disquiet. It is, and this cannot be emphasised enough, a truly fucked up place. It comes complete with clearly marked borders delineated by its opening and closing tracks '(Entrance' and 'Exit)’. The message is clear: this is less album than zone.

There's no comfort to be found here. It’s like the inner monologue of some insectile, cyborgian abomination, something unfeeling and hostile, something that could only thrive in a mirror world that perverts light and sullies warmth. It's a netherworld: tracks jut out and stab like cold, craggy wastelandscapes, tangled meshworks of alienic transmissions bleed out into deformed knots of gurgling white noise, lacerations of sound roil and heave and claw as if imprisoned within oppressive waveforms.

‘Tongue’ is marked by a kind of wackiness, a demented slapstick that renders its darkness all the more sinister. Voices wail and taunt like schizophrenic spirits trapped between torment and cackling ecstasy. Tracks giggle and skitter as if populated by grinning, snaggletoothed shadows.

‘Langue of Tongue’ is recommended for the curious and advanced listener. This is music for whatever the opposite of escapism is — it’s REAL twisted. But sometimes morbid fascination takes hold. Sometimes you lift the rock, because you can’t help it, and you observe the squirming mess of life it plays host to. What you experience may not be pleasant, but you might just struggle to tear yourself away.

[b] 2Forgive and Forget (Pull Down the Night) [2025 Remaster]








[k] 2Happy Dog (For Caggie) [2025 Remaster]

Limited to 250 copies. Death comes to us all. Emmerhoff & The Melancholy Babies do not shy away from this irrefutable fact. The band, celebrating their 30th anniversary in 2026, may now rightly consider themselves distinguished "elder statesmen" of rock. With such perspectives also comes the recognition of the transience of life. There are now more funerals than weddings lingering on the horizon, and the ranks of both the idols of our youth and contemporaries on the music scene are beginning to thin. "The Dying of The Light", its title taken from Dylan Thomas' iconic poem, contemplates and embraces the twilight of life, but also, in the spirit of the poem, fighting spirit and stubborn resistance to the inevitable. Death will come, but until then we will create music and celebrate life. October 2025 will see the release of the band's seventh studio album, recorded at Duper and Solslottet Studios in Bergen, produced by Iver Sandoy and Jorgen Træen.. The music reflects the sombre thematic while also being vital and vigorous. The range is wide, from delicate contemplation to powerful outbursts, strictly composed in one moment and loosely improvised in the next.

Deep black, with ghostly glimmers of an old car melting into the tarmac: the cover of Never En-ding Rodeo sets the tone. This isn't just a late-night drive, but a controlled skid across the borders of Post-Rock, Noise and Psych. The engine roars, the ground shakes, the white lines blur. Six years after the release of Ain't That Mayhem, the Lyon-based band returns with a dense, smoke-veiled record. Never Ending Rodeo: a deceptively playful, almost cartoonish title for such an intense album. As if, after circling endlessly around dust, bucking, and stampedes, Zëro had carved out its own orbit. Unstable, inevitably. But magnetic. Éric Aldéa (guitar, vocals), Franck Laurino (drums), Ivan Chiossone (Persephone, synths), and now Varou Jan (guitar, bass) - (Le Peuple de l'Herbe, Condense) - have lost none of their bite. Better still: this new album marks a turning point in production quality, thanks in particular to the mixing work of Niko Matagrin. The sound is broader, more inhabited. Every snare crack, every synth layer sits precisely in a meticulously sculpted space. "As if Tom Waits had collided with Nine Inch Nails. Before a frightening modernity hurled this so-nic convoy into a headlong rush." ~ Indiepoprock "You don't simply pass through Never Ending Rodeo: you step inside, you lock yourself in, drawn irresistibly by its magnetism." ~ Solénopole

"The Bad Seeds and Zakary Thaks were mid ‘60s Texas garage rock bands formed in the wake of the British Invasion, influenced by The Rolling Stones, Kinks, Yardbirds and others, becoming top local live attractions at a time when the 13th Floor Elevators and Moving Sidewalks were leading the way into psychedelia. In late 1966 Rod Prince on guitar and Roy Cox on bass from Bad Seeds joined up with David Fore from Zakary Thaks on drums to create a new band out of San Antonio featuring two lead guitarists. Todd Potter filled out the quartet on second guitar and they chose the name Bubble Puppy, taken from Aldous Huxley’s 1932 dystopian novel Brave New World. Huxley was an early advocate of LSD, appropriately. In 1969 Bubble Puppy scored a top 20 hit single with “Hot Smoke & Sasafrass” which led to their LP “A Gathering Of Promises”. International Artists, the legendary Texas label that previously had unleashed mind expanding classics by the Elevators, Red Crayola, Golden Dawn and others was a perfect fit. After the LP and additional 45s didn’t repeat the success of “Hot Smoke & Sasafrass” the band hooked up with Nick St. Nicholas of Steppenwolf as their new manager and moved to Los Angeles. A new band name was in order, Nick St. Nicholas chose Demian, title of the 1919 novel by Herman Hesse. His books were popular with the counterculture at the time and had provided Steppenwolf with their new name after they changed it from the Sparrow and hit it big. Demian recorded the LP live in the studio at the Record Plant in one midnight to six session. They had their arrangements fully realized, allowing them to combine live show energy and economy with to-the-point delivery suitable for repeated listening. No doubt they were aiming for pop hit success, using proto hard rock skills in a radio friendly way without compromising the heavy guitar moves. The vocals have echoes of the earlier Bubble Puppy style in spots but are more melodic with vibrant harmonies reminiscent of Moby Grape, Buffalo Springfield, James Gang… at times flashing on Steve Stills/Richie Furay westcoast without being too sweet about it. It works terrifically when the radio friendly voices top off killer hard guitar ensemble action. Early hard rock that is too bluesy flashy can get tiresome with repeat listening, especially if overdosing on guitar solos with the band relegated to the background… Demian keep it interesting with inventive song structures allowing all four players to integrate constantly into an ever changing but focused whole. This LP is a grower, despite the basic two guitars, bass and drums lineup and no frills production you reach a lot of different places during the ride. Demian is deadly hard rock, a perfectly organized vibe straddling live energy and crafted itinerary, amongst the first obscure major label killers that commanded premium $$ with collectors even way back in the late ‘70s. It gets you there every time, even half a century later!"

Difficult as it may be to imagine, there was a time when Sun City Girls did not exist. Prior to the Bishop brothers teaming up with drummer/shaman Charlie Gocher to form SCG's classic trio lineup, there were various ad-hoc assemblages of local Phoenix-area freaks and weirdos – groups which existed only long enough to play a single gig, open mic or house party before disbanding without a trace. Hatched from this milieu was Paris 1942, a short-lived band formed by guitarist Jesse Srogoncik that included Alan Bishop, Richard Bishop and former Velvet Underground drummer Maureen Tucker.

Paris 1942 would play only four shows in as many months, but between April and August of 1982, the band would gather several times a week in Tucker's living room, where the group feverishly wrote and rehearsed with a kind of quotidian discipline. While P42 didn't release anything during their brief tenure, a 7" EP and LP (both self-titled) surreptitiously surfaced on the Majora label in the mid to late '90s. Until now, those two titles – as well as an appearance on Placebo's Amuck comp in late '82 – would be the only documented evidence that this improbable, serendipitous and magnificent band ever existed.

While those expecting P42's music to sound like a tantalizing combination of Sun City Girls' iconoclastic hoodoo havoc and the Velvets' primal drug-chug certainly won't be disappointed, Paris 1942 more often than not transcends even these nearly impossible expectations. Srogoncik's songs, in particular, are a revelation, displaying as much in common with the exuberant raunch of The Gun Club and the chapbook punk of Peter Laughner as they do any of the more obvious touchstones.

The group's foresight to document and capture this meeting of musical minds – a meeting as unlikely as it was short-lived – provides a missing link between the Velvets and the Voidoids, between the Dead Boys and the Dead C, between ESP-Disk' and DNA. Far more than a historical curiosity, Paris 1942 provides a fresh perspective on an embryonic and sadly vanishing US underground. It is music that blinks at the past and anticipates a thousand possible futures.

– James Toth (excerpt from the liner notes)

Limited edition Gatefold LP version on 180g Red/Black Marble Vinyl with 16-page lyrics booklet. El Pez Que Volo (The Fish who Flew) is a musical quest to unearth the divine gem hidden within oneself. A cartoonish collection of desires, phobias, pathologies and virtues which are funnelled to create an ambivalent moral mishmash of East and West traditions. This zoomorphic, naïve & messianic hero's journey is infused with a psychedelic aura that invites us to dream the impossible... Act II - The Cave: After leaving the nest, Teezûck feels he's ready to fly, but in his premature attempt he hits a bump and fails, falling back to the bottom of the sea and plunging into the darkest and most terrifying cavern of all: the subconscious mind. Reality, fiction, memories, myths and legends intertwine in this dark, acidic mirrored circus where Teezûck will have to learn to meditate and master his psyche. The El Pez Que Voló series feature a capricious, free mixture of musical styles, genres, production values and aesthetics, which serve as narrative devices to highlight moments, characters & emotions across this highly unconventional sonic expedition.

Peace and love in late 60s America did not come without parallel feelings of fear and confusion about the social situation – specifically about Vietnam. “Safe In My Garden” is the latest Ace compilation in an acclaimed series compiled by Bob Stanley – it’s a companion piece to the much-praised “State Of The Union (The American Dream In Crisis 1967 – 1973)” Ace CDCHD 1533/XXQLP2 057 2018).

The music on “Safe In My Garden” is harmony-laden, beautifully produced soft rock. Sunshine pop, even - a melodic, innovative style of American music that grew in the mid-60s out of the folk and surf scenes, exemplified by the Beach Boys and the Mamas and Papas. You will hear orchestral arrangements, and soft boy-girl vocals. But it wasn’t made in isolation from what was going on in the outside world. There are clouds and minor chords, plenty of melancholy in those harmonies.

“Safe In My Garden” includes songs of escape (Mark Eric’s ‘Move With The Dawn’, the Groop’s ‘A Famous Myth’), loss (the Eighth Day’s ‘How Can I Stop Loving You’, the New Colony Six’s ‘Prairie Grey’), dreamscapes (Tommy James and the Shondells’ ‘She’, Nancy Priddy’s ‘Christina’s World’), rebirth (Smokey and his Sister’s ‘Creators Of Rain’), a simpler world (the Free Design’s ‘My Brother Woody’) and a philosophically sounder future (Chad & Jeremy’s ‘The Ark’, Best of Friends’ ‘Summer Sound’).

It contains some surprisingly dark messages paired with beautiful melodies, as well as songs of hope. Thousands of young musicians in cities, suburbs and small towns across the States from the mid to late 60s spent their mornings hiding from the mailman, dreading the draft. This is the Sound of Young America in the late 60s, keeping its fingers crossed.

Two years before the legendary trumpeter mysteriously fell from the window of a Dutch hotel, he delivered this high-level live performance on a stage in Bologna, Italy, in 1985.

Accompanied by Philippe Catherine on guitar and Jean-Louis Rassinfosse on double bass, Baker drew on his natural charm, that utterly disarming magnetism which made him deeply moving, even when decline was looming. Baker carried within him that inner fracture, that haunting depth that rendered every note fragile. Released for the first time as a double 180 gram vinyl LP with HD vinyl mastering

f *Goodbye, Asshole* was the wild night—tequila-sharp riffs, sticky floors, and last-call chaos howled into the void of a disappearing city—then *Boone* is the merciless morning after. The sun cracks the blinds. The brain throbs. Every bad decision gleams in the hard light, raw and undeniable.

Fuckwolf’s second album pares their scuzz-wave blitz down to exposed nerves: Eric Park’s basslines stalk like a hangover pulse, Simon Phillips’ drums land like a palm slapping the alarm into silence, and Tomo Yasuda’s guitar wirings spit like diner coffee left to burn on the hotplate. The fog has lifted; the damage is inventoried. These ten tracks are crime scene Polaroids, tales of longing and woe, fresh mystery bruises and eulogies.

There’s no wallowing here, just the tight, terrible beauty of a band that’s stared down the void and come back swinging.

The party’s dead. Long live the reckoning.

Fuckwolf have been around the SF scene for a while, and it took Ethan Miller (Silver Current / Comets On Fire / etc) ages to get them to record the debut album, they then toured Japan and released a limited split mini with Green Milk From The Planet Orange. They reconvened late 2024 and recorded Boone..

This new album "Boone", polishes and extrapolates the fizzing psychedelia of their first album, and turns Fuckwolf into the heirs to the crown of mass-consumptive Sike-rock. This album is in the same vein as Mercury Rev's "Yerself Is Steam", Butthole Surfers' "Rembrandt Pussyhorse" and Flaming Lips "Telepathic Surgery", there's sheer pop in amongst the mind's eye rattling dollops of psychedelic wallop... the Koolaid was drunk and the songs were made.. plug it in, turn on...drop out.

Master by the one and only Mikey Young!!