quête:chain whip

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

After the "curfew" (cf. album Out Past Curfew) and the "strange time" of adaptation following the health crisis (cf. EP Stranger Times), comes the relief and the open up to the world until now confined: the Salvation. Third artistic collaboration for Youthstar & Miscellaneous, the album Salvation is a 13 tracks journey with strong and optimistic subjects such as motivation, the quest for happiness, mixed with more melancholic themes such as addictions or dependency but always through incredible percussive flows and chorus with heady gimmicks that make you want to headbang! Faithful to the rap/hip-hop that forged the duo, this album also borrows the codes of electro, trap, bass music or even reggae. We find on this album a whole crew of top notch beatmakers such as Tha Trickaz, La Fine Equipe, as well as renowned artists & MCs like Biga*Ranx, Dope D.O.D, FP from ASM... Ltd. col. LP (splatter)!

Energy and inspiration come from the Gwoka. From these hands which, when they are not a raised fist, pound the drums, proud of their roots and of their Guadeloupean identity.
This is where Celia Wa comes from, from all that she inherited by spending her childhood between the West Indies and France.

The first years of her life were spent discovering the musical soul of the island, letting the seven gwoka rhythms seep into her until they became an integral part of her. The following years were spent discovering reggae, salsa, jazz and the omnipresent hip hop. Music whose original source was close to her, but to which she only opened up after having travelled thousands of kilometres.

After two self-produced EPs, Wastral is the sum of these inspirations and influences. Born in the acoustic, it is under the modern and futuristic production of Victor Vagh (producer of Flavia Coelo) that the seven tracks were revealed and then sublimated. Dissipated in the vaporous arrangements, softened under the effect of the synthetic layers, the organic was meticulously covered with an electro varnish disturbed by the echoes and reverbs of the dub. Celia Wa's soaring, twirling flute grazes or stirring the groove, her lyrics reviving the memory of her island. In Creole or in English, they tell the story in the present tense without forgetting the past. A past full of the sounds of struggles, of clashing chains and cracking whips, marks that have disappeared from bodies but remain deeply rooted in families and history. New feminine signature at Heavenly Sweetness, Celia Wa draws with Wastral the map of an avant-garde stellar journey in which the musical star of Guadeloupe shines the brightest.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

Back in May 2019, Vancouver trio Corner Boys released their sole album… and promptly split a few months later. In retrospect, they couldn’t have known that the album’s title (‘Waiting For 2020’) would soon seem grimly ironic - and we all know why, right? No reason to go over all that shit again. But while the past two years have at least seen drummer/songwriter Patrick McEachnie staying active across two essential records with hardcore heroes Chain Whip, lockdown saw him switching roles. Basically, he bought a guitar and made an excellent record all on his lonesome, and as followers of his other projects will have come to expect, it’s fucking excellent. ‘Glad To Be Forgotten’ is the debut album by Pack Rat - in some ways you can see some level of crossover with Corner Boys in its manic energy and dedication to hooks (cuts like ‘Next Time Hit Me’ and ‘My Own Reality’ are so damn catchy, you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve already been listening to ‘em on repeat for the past 20 years). Familiar reference points show up (the melodies of the Pointed Sticks; the garage-slanted rifferama of Rudi or The Undertones) while a tinny budget synth keeps things ticking along nicely, just to remind you that this is a homespun DIY project. But honestly, this has the feel of a fully fleshed-out project and leaves you desperate for another fix of its sweet’n’sour tang. For anyone who loves the collision point between ‘New Rose’, powerpop sunshine and sheer rock’n’roll exuberance, this is essential. For everyone else, this is surely the gateway to all of that good stuff. You want to hear the tunes that’ll star on future generations’ equivalents to the Killed By Death comps? That’ll set your pulse soaring and your pogo muscles into overdrive? That’ll remind you of why this punk rock business still feels worth dedicating your life to, even after all this time? Hey, Pack Rat’s got ‘em. Now do your part

Danish indie rock duo The Raveonettes first met in Copenhagen in
2001, after which they quickly began recording their first EP Whip It On. Their first full album Chain Gang of Love followed in 2003, and it quickly gained recognition as lead single “That Great Love Sound” was featured on the soundtrack of FIFA 2004. Upon release, Pitchfork complimented the album for its high-quality production, tightly controlled melodies and called the album a glorious buzz. Mixing raw garage rock with catchy, sweet lyrics, Chain Gang of Love demonstrates The Raveonettes’ knack for crafting compelling songs.

Chain Gang of Love is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on translucent red vinyl.

"When we played live, we would bring out lawnmowers, pots and pans and pipes we would smash rhythmically with a mallet. Anything that made noise. And then there was also the
kraut-influenced, more ambient Dark Arts. I loved percussion, I loved beautiful things, but then, I could also whip out a chainsaw, you know."

Bulkhead present their debut album - Aft Pressure - due June 1st on 2MR Records. In 2015, during the coldest Toronto winter on record, two old friends - Pop District and Patrik Benjamin - locked themselves away in the studio to experiment with a medley of hardware. Both solo artists in their own right, they had overseen their own projects prior, but had never considered how a collaboration might sound. Exploring the polarity of extreme cold and immersive warmth with a distinctly analogue feel, the duo carved themselves an aesthetic. And so Bulkhead was born. Using a raw, organic palette they repudiate formal structure and polish, opting instead for a freeform blend of unhindered mechanical techno and fuzzy ambience - slambient, if you will. Debuting in 2016, their 'Worker's Kampf' cassette album on LA imprint Far Away Tapes sold out quickly, warranting another release on 2MR featuring highlights of the cassette on 12' and digital. Continuing with the purveyance of abstract arrangements and machine wizardry, their forthcoming album - Aft Pressure - is a striking exploration of the intersection between frenzied techno and harmonic warmth.Fragments of techno and EBM mutate without strict guidance, rebuilding themselves into new forms with stunning physical qualities. Whilst many of the tracks might file under dance music, the DIY spirit of the album transcends a nightclub, occupying a peculiar space between the uncensored grit of the post-punk scene and some melancholic form of ambient minimalism. Angular percussion slices its way through dizzying synth leads whilst serene harmonies wander on their own accord. Darting melodies are made all the more powerful by their harsh timbre as drum-less excursions provide a cinematic backdrop. Aft Pressure is a statement of intent, blurring the parameters of dance music culture with equal doses of insanity and serenity. At the same time, it's also a hell of a lot of fun...