Buscar:crack we are rock

Extinction Burst! is the new invocation in album-form by Guttersnipe, Leeds’ premier and pre-eminent XFCER (XFCER: Xenofeminist crisis-energy rock)* duo. Slamming at full speed to multi-dimensional oblivion, Extinction Burst! is the most full, hidefinition lurid dream-mare yet spewed out by Uroceras Gigas & Tipula Confusa. Engineered and mixed by Ross Halden at Hohm Studio in Bradford and mastered by Rashad Becker, Extinction Burst! follows 2018’s My Mother The Vent, which garnered universal critical adoration. Nevertheless, this long-awaited follow up is more extreme: it is wildness beyond reason, splitting new tears in the reality gauze, ultimate hallucination through sound ecstasy. 2026’s Guttersnipe are evolved, mutated by 8 years of touring together and with the labyrinthine network of groups both Guttersnipe members are involved with - Tristwch Y Fenywod, Nape Neck, Petronn Sphene, Yexxen to name a few. On Extinction Burst!, as with previous material, the duo are heavily augmented with technology. Tipula Confusa's drum kit triggers chasm-causing synth pulses with thumping low end attack.. Strafing from all over the stereo field the constant shatter of the cymbals and toms feel like Sunny Murray or Rashied Ali in full flight during a John Coltrane session in 1967. Uroceras Gigas’s guitar + synth storm is by-now similarly an instantly recognised tool kit in underground music. Switching from screeching guitar atonality to intricate riffs from the black metal/Voivod hinterland to ultra-distorted synth meltdown, it’s an utterly overwhelming, essential and vital pouring-out of the full emotional spectrum. Both artists vocalise, ecstatic and primal, drawn out or yelped in pain or pleasure or panic. Alive On Tuesday begins with some of the only space on Extinction Burst! Digital crackles and tight-delays blow out into a fullthrottled death-dive into sweet opaqueness, offset by the duo’s vocals. There’s a popular believe that Guttersnipe is chaos, but over 9 mins here the group are clinical in their control of the simulated entropy. Mincing while the Maelstrom Churns’s guitar is modulated into jagged atonal atonement, duetting with the virtuoso drum patterns before it thuds into gear at quadruple the speed. Threads Of Radical Unaliveness veers close to the extreme Metal influences with blast beats and guttural vocalisations until the track exhausts itself into unaliveness. Keep Honking summons a demonic digital panic, with the duo reincarnating in real time as haunted versions of themselves, almost translating the lurid, ultra vivid, simultaneous hell+heaven of being alive in this dimension. Primordial Invagination harnesses No Wave’s dissension of normality before the structured collapse of Skra¨ckblandad Fo¨rtjusning, in which Tipula Confusa’s accelerating drums simulate a bouncing barrel of brimstone descending into a primordial gunky ooze, a respite in the middle before the record splutters to a stuttering finale, both members’ vocals out there in the neon realness, alive with crisis energy. There is nothing on this cursed earth like Guttersnipe. For over 10 years they have whirled in a wiggliness both woebegone and wonderstruck on a mission of radical mutant exaltation using rock music weaponry loaded with a queer hysterical ammunition to rupture the fabric of the known Rock universe and unleash a tendril-soft hallucinatory violence; thrumming with the bracing vividness of insect bodies, crazed with alien synaesthetic emotions, harnessing jagged excoriating illogic as a face meltingly snazzy affront to redundant macho mediocrity with the hope to break minds, squeeze hearts, explode pelvises and maybe even reset the parameters of reality. Addendum: xenofeminist : proposing and creating a world defined not only by sexual/gender equality, queer empowerment and the toppling of the racist heteropatriarchal hegemony and it’s tyranny of phallogocentric signifiers, but a philosophy of radical queerness that explodes the basic notion of embodied existence itself beyond even the human, where we see bacteria, invertebrates, reptiles, marine life, animalia in general, inanimate objects, quantum phenomena and as yet inarticulated bodies and minds as social and political equals that may inspire and inform our concepts of self, feeling and meaning as we labour to build a collective reality that doesn’t completely suck!! crisis energy : a term borrowed from the weird fiction author china mieville to describe a type of extreme concentration of power which emerges when a system or organism is pushed to it’s absolute limit; the point of rupture, chaos, entropic overload, just before it all breaks apart. rock : Rock ’n’ Roll, rock music, the devil’s music, sex, guitar, drums, voice, rhythm, riffs!

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear.

Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it.

With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. colour in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before.

Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty).

The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

Can’t go over it. Can’t go under it. Gotta go through it. And somewhere out there in the Pitch black beyond all darkness lies Peace & Purpose. The horizon you never quite crest until the inevitable end. Breathe deep — this fearful moment is the most alive you’re ever gonna feel. For the last decade, Crack Cloud’s vision has grown ever more expansive, more cinematic. Last go around, they dropped from The Heavens and then performed with their bare backs to an endless darkening desert. Now they’ve crammed all that life into some metallic and strange object called Peace & Purpose. All the terror of living. All the helplessness. All the raw human will. All glued and screwed and locked into this impossible tactile shape of dungeon dub; sour milk vox; Avant-protest music. Music arm wrestling itself to the ground. Far afield of beauty. The discordant symphony of factory farming and grim timber of the meat processing plant. The grinding din of the cogs. And yet, never giving up in spite of all good sense. Even in death, we are a coterie of survivors. Look now: There’s Terry Fox on his one-legged Marathon of Hope across The Great White North while cancer spreads through his lungs. A self-annihilating drive to feel alive. Rage against the dying of the light, they say. Well, how ‘bout it then!??! Peace & Purpose is not in any way some art project meditation on Punk Rock. It is Punk Rock. Terrifying, inspiring, vital, invigorating and most importantly, utterly unexpected. Every goddamn stupid day is a sublime slice of fresh hell. That’s the point. Gotta go through it. Wishing you Peace & Purpose — if only in that last big breath.

The writer Max Sebald often pondered over the nature of human memory, specifically, how our thoughts and desires - and their results - overlap and mutate over time. In A Place in the Country, he writes of the significance of what see as “similarities, overlaps and coincidences”. Are they the “delusions” of the self and senses, or manifestations of “an order underlying the chaos of human relationships, ... which lies beyond our comprehension”?

Song of the Night Mists, the new album by post-classical composer Stefan Wesołowski, often feels it draws on Sebald’s premise.

On a simpler plane, the one where the market dictates the neatly ordered information we consume, Song of the Night Mists can be described thus: recorded in the main by Stefan Wesołowski in Gdańsk, both in his studio and in Saint Nicholas' Basilica, the album incorporates acoustic instruments - piano, violin, double bass - and classic synthesizers such as the Roland Jupiter-8, the Soviet Polivoks. A Roland Space Echo RE-150 tape delay was also pressed into service as an instrument. We also hear the basillica’s organ and field recordings from the Tatra Mountains. Other musicians were Maja Miro, who played the flute parts on ‘Glacial Troughs’ and brother Piotr Wesołowski, who played the organ on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’. Sound engineer was Marcin Nenko, who was also on hand to record the basilica organ parts. The album was mixed in New York by Al Carlson (Oneohtrix Point Never, Jessica Pratt, Zola Jesus, Lady Gaga, and Liturgy) and Rafael Anton Irisarri handled the mastering.

Ostensibly, Song of the Night Mists is the last in a trilogy, following on from albums Liebestod (2013) and Rite of the End (2017). All three deal with existential matters such as love, death, decay and “an ultimate end”; apocalyptic and Promethean in spirit, and betraying very human conceits. The Sebaldian nature of the new record starts to make itself felt when Wesołowski talks of how he used sampling. One element is unexpected, that of sampling himself: “I go back to dozens of my own unused sketches and recordings, treating them as raw material to cut, slow down, reverse, and transform in every possible way.” Memory as sound, to be reemployed by the listener through their own imaginings.

Another set of samples made by Wesołowski plays another role. These are field recordings, originally created for an audio illustration of the formation of the Tatra Mountains, and used in a film by sound designer Michał Fojcik. Wesołowski: “You can hear cracking ice, streams, footsteps in the snow and the wind, and a real avalanche, recorded from the inside.” The “Tatra connection” on the album is also found in samples referencing composer Karol Szymanowski. The album’s title alludes to a poem about the mountains by Polish poet, Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer.

Wesołowski’s Tatra recordings are “about a world without humans - about the fact that the world existed, was beautiful, and had meaning long before people arrived, and for the vast majority of its history, it was a place without us.” Wesołowski, using one iteration of the natural world, plays out in sound Sebald’s idea of another order, underlying the chaos of human relationships lying beyond human comprehension.

These feelings play themselves out on the five album tracks. Sonorous and rich, they illustrate tectonic shifts we have no control over. Wesołowski hints that the overall sound is a “meditation on the metaphysics of the non-human set against the spirituality that human presence has brought into it.” In that light, the opening number, ‘Core’, with its slow build, and crackling and straining sound effects, create an effect of the earth groaning into life in a creation myth. Once the piano part raps out a simple melody and modulated tonguing trumpet samples add to the overall atmosphere, the listener can certainly find a cue in the “spiritual”, or “human” side of the story. Human versus nature: from the strains and harmonic muscle stretches of the second number, ‘Glacial Troughs’, through to the powerful and filmic ‘Stalagmite’ and heart-on-sleeve romance expressed in closer, ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, we listeners are cast as Friedrich’s wanderer, looking out over a landscape that will appear only if we engage with it.

Formations of melody appear incrementally, almost appearing by chance - like hidden footings in the rock shelves to give us something to grasp onto. Rhythms are used sparsely: the prolonged percussive taps on ‘Glacial Troughs’ are an anomaly and maybe there to give pace to the album to come; essentially to keep the listener strapped in. Elsewhere, percussion is used as an aid to mood, the two thudding, timpani-style passages on ‘Peak’ there to offset the short, beautiful, kosmische passage that splits them.

Elements of the borderline religious spirit that drove German electronic music in the late 1960s and 1970s also find a place on Song of the Night Mists. The swells and recessions of the organ find their emotional climax on ‘Wilhelm Tombeau’, a track which summons up echoes of the “mountain magic” vistas created by Popol Vuh or Tangerine Dream, especially with the slightly atonal wobble of the Mellotron that counters it.

This is a dramatic album, but it does feel a strangely short, or curtailed listen on ending, evoking the feeling one gets when waking from a dream, and, for all its incipient grandeur, a track like ‘Stalagmite’, for instance, ends on a minor note. Wesołowski admits that Song of the Night Mists is born of the all too human process of temptation, doubt and recalibration - Sebaldian overlaps and coincidences forming something that must live another life, away from its creator. In Wesołowski’s words, the album is “a newborn foal must stand up and walk right after birth.” Now it is yours to ponder.

Occasionally an album comes along that seems to capture the mood of the time. "The K&D Sessions" was one. In the late 1990s no afterparty, smoking session or languid Sunday afternoon was complete without Kruder & Dorfmeister blasting from the Bang & Olufsen. Now approaching it"s 25th anniversary the lore around this iconic release, steeped in a silvery cloud of smoke, retains a star quality which only shines brighter as time hurtles on. With the original having sold well over a million copies by this point in time, it"s hard to imagine a mix or remix compilation being able to inform a movement like "The K&D Sessions" has. To celebrate this monumental milestone, we"ve created a limited boxset in 6LP and 3CD of "The K&D Sessions", mastered and cut by LA luminary Bernie Grundman for a luxurious listening experience, with newly designed inner sleeves using unseen photos from the original photo shoot. Inserted in the box is a forty-page booklet containing multitudes more never before seen photos from the same shoot and notes which recount humorous tales surrounding the duo and the people who spent time with them in this epoch. Included on the 6th LP is their legendary 11 minute shimmering remix of Madonna"s "Nothing Really Matters". The 6th LP also contains Peter Kruder"s Powercut Mix of Roni Size"s "Heroes" and K&D"s remix of U.F.O, "L.O.V.E.". In addition there are two cerebral alternate remixes of Lewis Taylor, one being completely dubbed and the other the using the vocal line for this beautiful gem, "Lucky" and a special remix of "Speechless" by Count Basic. These have been staples in K&D"s sets and now take their rightful place collected in the canon of "The Sessions".

Much deserved, remastered reissue of ‘We Are I.E.’ by Lennie De Ice, arguably the first proto jungle tune, now coming correct with fresh remixes from Solo & Blades alongside Borai, as well as the sought-after Horsepower Productions remix.

Released in 1991 on I.E. Records, an imprint based out of De Underground Records, a store in London’s Forest Gate run by Mike De Underground alongside Uncle 22 and Randall, it famously featured elements that paved the way for the Jungle sound. Centered around the Amen break, ragga style basslines, vinyl spinbacks and gun shot samples, it stood out as something different back in ’91, A certified classic, rinsed on dancefloors everywhere and anywhere, from back in the day to the present.

Solo & Blades are the first of the new versions, hitting hard with a heavyweight jungle remix, as Borai steps up with a beefy bassline rework. Horsepower Productions killer and sought after remix rounds off the package.


DJ Feedback:

Foul Play
Moving Shadow
"All the remixes totally land, great package, respectfully done. gonna hear a lot of these over the summer I think."

Jerome Hill
Super Rhythm Trax, Don't, Kool FM
"Was a little sceptical seeing these were remixes as its such an iconic track - BUT fair play ! Borai and Ed Solo & Blades both knocked it out of the park and i'll be playing both these, plus replacing my personal (slightly. crusty) vinyl rip of the original ! Bigups !!"

Om Unit
"Untouchable until now tbh"

jd Twitch
optimo
"even though I have probably heard it ten thousand times you can't beat the original. remixes are cool though."

Louise Chen
"this hits so hard it's tough choosing a fave mix!"

Emerald
BBC 1xtra/ Rinse FM
"Yeeeeeh found the dubstep remix vinyl of this in barcelona recently"

Werdna (Circular Jaw)
"Classic, lovely to see Hooj bringing in the big guns for the remixes. These are going off!"

Cortese
"Sick breaks on this one"

Truss/ MPIA3/ Overmono
"wicked"

Oli Warwick
Crack/ RA/ International Orange/ JunoJuno Plus
"Absolutely seminal bomb drop here, and the remixes are no joke either!"

Chris Farrell
"Always good to see this come round again, original and borai mix for me"

Smolny
"CLASICK !"

Doc Martin
Sublevel USA/Fabric UK.
"Complete Rave Warehouse Flashbacks!!!!"

Lil Mofo
The Trilogy Tapes / Tokyo
"wow!"

Moody Boyz
all over the worldstudio rockers records
"classic tune feeling the Filter Dread Remix"

Ciel
Rinse FM / Refuge Worldwide
"really nice collection of tunes!"

dop
"love the original"

With multiple bass players (at one point eight of them) and an array of rubber masks that give both children and adults sleepless nights, somehow, against all the odds, Evil Blizzard are set to release their fifth studio album of nightmare inducing noise and visuals. Titled, the new album sees Evil Blizzard pushing the boundaries further afield from their early sound of 'multiple bass psych', seeing elements of dub, krautrock and goth to provide a much more Post Punk vibe than previous work. Reference points were 'Metal Box', 'Ritual De Lo Habitual', Can and Discharge (whose singer JJ joins the band on the track 'Wake The Dead In Bedlam') as well as the omnipresent Hawkwind, Stooges and Sabbath vibes. By far the band's most stylistically varied and challenging album and yet their most cohesive body of work since their critically acclaimed second album 'Everybody Come To Church'. As well as their trademark 'multi bass onslaught', this album sees sequencing, sampling and even the use of string instruments made from bone.

Recorded between September and November 2025 at Rock Hard Studios, Blackpool, improvised sessions were edited down into more 'song' structures, then reworked into the final pieces. "Recording this was the hardest work we've done," claims Filthydirty. "Previously, we'd just turn up, turn up louder, press record and sieve through the debris and call it 'an album'. On this album we only had two, maybe three tracks that were finished when we went in, and the rest were worked out in reverse; ploughing through improvisations and jams and seeing what actually had any bones or gristle to work with. “Consequently, we had the time and focus to reappraise what we'd done in the past, highlight what we'd done right and realise where perhaps self-indulgence or lack of focus were overlooked instead of time or budget restraints, he continues. “The result is an album that reflects all our record collections. Lyrically it's been impossible to not absorb the chaos and anger transmitting on every news channel recently, and while we'd never write specifically about a certain issue or matter, the shitshow that is the 2020's definitely made its mark or our thinking.

First released in 2009, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… Pt. II stands as Raekwon’s celebrated sequel to the Purple Tape, expanding his cinematic mafioso rap universe.

This newly designed instrumental edition removes the vocals to place full focus on the album’s production, featuring beats by J Dilla, Dr. Dre, RZA, Pete Rock, The Alchemist, and more.

For the first time ever on vinyl, the instrumentals are presented as a standalone listening experience, revealing the album’s grit, mood, and layered sound design.

Pressed on classic black vinyl and housed in a heavy matte-finish jacket with spot gloss text, the Shaolin Noir Edition keeps the spotlight on the music itself, serving as a clean, essential companion to one of Raekwon’s most acclaimed releases.

Built on the solid, classic rock foundation of three-part harmonies and dual guitar leads, Canada's Juno Award-winning and multi-platinum selling - the Sheepdogs blend Southern boogie rock, groove-based psychedelia, and bluesy barroom swagger into a modern rock & roll revival. Hailing from the small prairie city of Saskatoon, The Sheepdogs are one of Canada’s most successful bands amassing a legion of fans worldwide with their rich harmonies, rounded guitar tones and classic rock-influenced sound. The band has achieved thirteen top 20 hits on Canadian Rock radio, with ten reaching the top 5 and three claiming the #1 spot. Most recently, their single "Take Me For a Ride" cracked the top 5 and spent over eight months in the top 20. This success followed their 2022 run of  90 cumulative weeks with at least one song in the top 20 at Canadian Rock radio. Hit singles “I Don’t Know” and “Feeling Good” both reached Platinum certification, with “The Way It Is” achieving Gold sales. Additionally, the albums Learn & Burn and The Sheepdogs both achieved Platinum status, and to date the band has been nominated for 11 JUNO awards, including 2022’s “Outta Sight” and winning four awards.

At the start of this summer, following a three-year hiatus for Daphni (punctuated only by his first ever collaborative Daphni track ‘Unidos’ alongside Sofia Kourtesis), he dropped ‘Sad Piano House’. The track represented something of a continuation in the Daphni catalogue, its roots growing from Cherry’s ‘Cloudy’ and its subsequent Kelbin remix, something in that song’s makeup having a profound effect when played on dancefloors by Snaith and countless others. ‘Sad Piano House’ deployed more intangibly irresistible bendy piano to equally satisfying effect and continues to achieve similarly rhapsodic dancefloor saturation.
Though a sizeable gap for Daphni releases, between Cherry and Butterfly however of course sits Honey, the latest Caribou album and one that saw the more instantaneous and dancefloor leaning traits of Daphni peaking through the cracks more than ever before. This blurring of the lines leads to an intriguing collaboration in Butterfly’s lead single ‘Waiting So Long (feat. Caribou)’. An unlikely duo - in that both artists are the same man, Dan Snaith - ‘Waiting So Long’ is not so much an identity crisis, ego trip, or the result of a chemical spill in the Snaith laboratory. It’s simply a track that Snaith felt for the first time belongs to both aliases, and might appeal to fans of both. He has never sung on a Daphni track before, and did not set out with the intention to do so this time, and yet this strange billing was born.

Daphni music has always been Snaith’s way of hitting directly to the core of the dancefloors he spends so much of his time playing to, and those dancefloors have been steadily expanding as his name grows, with the music following suit. This album however also draws from further back with a definite kinship to the very first Daphni album, the invigorating bag of ideas that was Jiaolong.
Butterfly is a showcase of the wonderful variety and surprising twists and turns that made that album such an exciting new prospect and that still to this day make Snaith such an intriguing DJ. There are more heavy hitters here, tracks that fill those dancefloors better than anyone, like ‘Clap Your Hands’ which picks up the energy of ‘Sad Piano House’ and flips it, exposing the gritty and intoxicating underbelly of Snaith’s hitmaking side, while retaining the playful urgency that runs through all of his work of late. Meanwhile ‘Hang’’s comic-strip horns are unpinned by gleeful force, unrelenting and thrillingly unshakeable. Elsewhere though comes a clutch of other tunes that might creep out somewhere more off the beaten path, a path Snaith has never stopped seeking in amongst his larger billings. ‘Lucky’ is squirmy and elusively intoxicating, ‘Invention’ skitters down meandering, inviting corridors, ‘Talk To Me’ grumbles and broods in the murk, and ‘Miles Smiles’ could roll on endlessly, so confident in its groove. There are no obvious peaks in these tracks or unifying moments, in fact many of them really have no business being on the dancefloor at all, and yet in the right setting, they could be the most fun to be had all night.

One such club is a good microcosm for the ethos of Butterfly as a whole. “Around the time I was finishing up this album I played a long set in a club called Open Ground in Wuppertal, Germany.” Snaith recalls, “It’s kind of, in one sense, the platonic ideal of the kind of club I’d want to play in. Every single decision has been taken, at great expense, with the aim of making the perfect sounding medium sized club room. But on top of it being the perfect acoustic environment it also is run by an amazing collection of people in a way that gives it a sense of community that dance music at its best provides. It is an absolute pleasure to play in that room to a crowd of people who come from all over. Playing in there you feel like you can play anything, and I played works in progress of pretty much every track on this album in my set there. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing a short set at a festival or in a more raw warehouse kind of club where you bang it out and only really functional music works but on record I guess the point of these Daphni records is to keep in mind a more expansive idea of dance music where the parameters are broad and the church is broad. I think that actually, putting really functional stuff next to weirder tracks (both on an album and in a dj set) might be the thing that’s still most interesting to me.”
This is the feeling that’s most palpable on Butterfly, and in every single time you see Snaith DJ. Right from the inception of the Daphni alias - and even before that – the thrill of trying stuff out, pushing at the boundaries has always been there and on Butterfly is present in all its twists and turns. It leaps all over the place and yet it hangs together, never feeling like a grab bag of dancefloor utilities but rather a distillation of all the strings to Snaith’s bow, exhilaratingly human and unified by one singular concept – simple and joyful exploration.

If art is to be exhibited, then Ulrika Spacek will ensure that their art is collective; that even as the world becomes inhospitable to community, their intentions are an act of resistance.

Whether it is Oysterland, the self-curated night the band have been Hosting for over ten years to platform artists of other disciplines in live music spaces, or Total Refreshment Centre, the East London studio Syd runs which connects the dots between the jazz scene and like-minded experimental artists of the capital and beyond, or their creative bleed as musicians and producers over the years with the likes of Crack Cloud, caroline, DIIV, Holy Wave and Slowdive, the band’s existence is inseparable from their community.

In a hyper-individual world, the band’s fourth album, ‘EXPO’, offers an antidote. It’s there, in the shared dream logic of the music, the off-kilter melodies, jagged guitars and cirrus cloud atmospherics. It’s there, in all the things that are said and unsaid between them; there in the writing, producing and mixing processes they share in. And even as each of their parts Moves toward a unified vision, it’s never more keenly felt than in the bigger Picture to which Ulrika Spacek belong.

Though their well-established foundations are in the art-rock world - and though they are inspired by electronic elements more than ever - Ulrika Spacek are interested in the glitch that exists between the two. Their Music reckons with human warmth and digital isolation, equal parts welcoming and altogether alienating. “Our music has always been a collage - a bit patchwork, sonically - but what makes this album a landmark for us is that we went one step further and made our own sample bank,” explains singer / guitarist Rhys. They create their own doppelgängers in a world of almostreal, where the band appear as if in a hall of mirrors. Digital drums are sampled layered upon real drums, and the effect is almost like birth in reverse - pulled from the ether and returned back to the tangible world.

“There’s a lot that can be said about writing when there is no aim, there is a freedom and a purity in it which opens a door to more music, and in this case, it set a mood for a new album, one that would be colder, darker and one that would embrace electronics and new instrumentation in a new terrain,” the band share. “The album’s greater theme is isolation and alienation in an online world where it seems everybody around you is constantly exhibiting themselves, living in public wanting to be seen and heard. The age of ‘individuality’ is lonely, it’s a room of concave mirrors, and with this in mind, we set upon making our most collective effort; ‘It’s back to strength in numbers, count in fives.”

For fans of Radiohead, Moin, DIIV, Astrel K, Slowdive.

LP presented on Crystal Clear vinyl.

This is the third release by Trevor Dunn (Mr Bungle, Fantomas, Trio Convulsant, various with John Zorn) and Kevin Rutmanis (Tomahawk, Melvins, Cows, Hepa/Titus) On this outing Trevor joins Lords and Lady Kevin (duo of Kevin Rutmanis and drummer/artist Gina Skwoz) for a full length LP "Last Days at Hot Slit"

Songs are loosely based on assorted gospel, blues and jazz songs, some original, some covers. Included is a re-working of Mingus "Devil Woman". The trio based the pieces on improvisations that were then arranged and used to build free standing songs. A multitude of instruments were exploited by all those involved, to create a sizzling blend of aural delicacies. The album title is from a collection by writer Andrea Dworkin, often sited as the Celine of feminism. Less outre perhaps than their previous recordings, these songs hover somewhere between soundtrack- like excursions, to jazz/ blues mutations to a demented "rock" sounding affair. Something for everybody, or perhaps, nobody! Uniting former and current members of Tomahawk, Last Days At Hot Slit marks a powerful reunion between Rutmanis and Dunn. The record took shape gradually, born from Rutmanis's raw, unconventional bass recordings. "I sent Trevor a phone recording of some hideous bass racket and asked if he wanted to add anything," Rutmanis shares. "What he sent back was something like delicious fresh cherries with ice and banana slices." The pair's combined creativity gave rise to a new, immersive soundscape, while their collaborative piece, Crackpot Whorehead, set the tone for the current formation of Lords and Lady Kevin."

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!!

Following the release of their universally acclaimed, Mercury and Ivor Novello Award Nominated fourth studio album ‘False Lankum’, which collected Album Of The Year honours from UNCUT magazine, The Guardian, Loud & Quiet, The Quietus, as well as very high rankings from MOJO, NPR, DIY, Crack, Songlines, Music OMH, The Line Of Best Fit, Louder Than War, The Skinny and numerous other media worldwide. Rough Trade Records are excited to announce the release of ‘Live in Dublin’ by Lankum. Recorded across three sold out nights at Dublin's Vicar Street, the album features Lankum performing songs from across their catalogue including ‘The Rocky Road to Dublin’, which up until now has never been officially released.

Blang Records are thrilled to announce another two vinyl album re-releases from Jeffrey Lewis's back catalogue: The debut classic The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane (originally Rough Trade 2001) and The critically acclaimed 4th album 12 Crass Songs (originally Rough Trade 2007). The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane (VV001LP) : The fragile poetry and lo-fi warmth of JL's home-recorded debut paint vivid scenes of downtown Manhattan life with cracked sincerity, comic book absurdity and charm. This groundbreaking album continues to charm listeners but has completely run out of stock. Press Quotes: "Jeffrey Lewis: `The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane' - Best Indie Album of 2002; like his drawings, his music is witty, animated and true." - New York Daily News "Bizarre but brilliant_ slugging it out to be New Rock capital of the universe, Jeffrey Lewis could well be New York's ace in the hole."- Uncut "Modestly brilliant." [Critic's Choice]- The Village Voice "He claws through the bullshit and pretence ingrained in society. [Jeffrey Lewis' work] _should be cherished."- TimeOut London "Jeffrey Lewis isn't simply a singer, but a creative comic mastermind_ brilliant_ a staggering work of_ genius." - (9 stars of 10) Addicted to Sound Blang Records and Jeffrey Lewis have history: before Blang was a label, it started life as a live night at the 12 Bar Club in Denmark Street, hosting many a set of the NY Antifolk artists over on UK shores, including Jeffrey Lewis. Now 20+ years since Jeffrey first played Blang. Native New Yorker Jeffrey Lewis is a comic book writer/artist and a musician. A cult hero birthed from the now infamous antifolk movement that sprung up on Manhattan's Lower East Side in the 90s, Jeffrey has released dozens of albums showcasing his unique blend of bleakly witty observations, scratchy, lo-fi punk and croaky folk/anti-folk, all firmly rooted in a strong DIY sensibility. Jeffrey and his band have toured the world multiple times over, released albums on Rough Trade, Moshi Moshi and Don GIovanni Records, and have been featured by NPR, The History Channel, The NY Times and more.