"You're Under Arrest is a 1985 album recorded by Miles Davis, presenting a mixture of pop covers (including Cyndi Lauper's ""Time After Time"" and Michael Jackson's ""Human Nature""), and original material dealing with politics, racism, pollution and war. It is the first Davis album since On the Corner in 1972 to include electric guitarist John McLaughlin. This version comes as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on red & clear marbled vinyl."
Time It Was Always Time, the debut duo release from Berke Can Özcan & Jonah Parzen-Johnson on We Jazz Records, is a refreshing and full-throated expression of joy and curiosity. In a year when 76 countries hold national elections and we find ourselves in an existential battle against apathy and cynicism, this effortlessly authentic album offers an innocent reminder that the antidote to stagnation is curiosity and the fuel for change is the joy of building something transformative together.
. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary
A RADICAL HORIZON is comprised of a series of duets between cellist Lori Goldston and pianist Stefan Christoff, recorded on a late Fall afternoon in Brooklyn, NY. A conversation between friends, these improvised excursions reflect a willingness to be open to the spirits in the space and between the notes; a spirit of communion that, as Stefan writes, "guides and dances with our dialogue together".
Stefan Christoff is a Canadian musician, community organizer, and journalist based in Montreal, Quebec. He has collaborated with artists such as Sam Shalabi and Adriana Camacho, performs with his brother Jordan as a duo in Anarchist Mountains, and has released music on labels such as Moon Villain, Shimmering Moods, and Aural Canyon.
A lifelong community activist, he helped establish the Musicians For Palestine project and has engaged in street-level solidarity work in Lebanon and The Philippines as well as closer to home in Montreal. This is his second appearance on Beacon Sound after 'In Sofia', an album of piano improvisations recorded in Bulgaria, was released on the label in 2023.
Classically trained and rigorously de-trained, possessor of a restless, semi-feral spirit, Lori Goldston is a cellist, composer, improvisor, producer, writer and teacher from Seattle. Her voice as a cellist, amplified or acoustic, is full, textured, committed and original. A relentless inquirer, her work drifts freely across borders that separate genre, discipline, time and geography.
Current and former collaborators and/or bosses include Earth, Nirvana, Mirah, Jessika Kenney, Ilan Volkov, Eyvind Kang, Stuart Dempster, David Byrne, Terry Riley, Jherek Bischoff, Malcom Goldstein, Steve Von Till, Lonnie Holley, Cat Power, Ellen Fullman, Maya Dunietz, Mik Quantius, Embryo, O Paon, Tara Jane O’Neil, Natacha Atlas, Broken Water, Ed Pias, Christian Rizzo and Sophie Laly, Threnody Ensemble, Cynthia Hopkins, 33 Fainting Spells, Vanessa Renwick, Mark Mitchell, Lynn Shelton, and many more.
Her work has been commissioned by and/or performed at the Kennedy Center, Sydney Festival, Cineteca Nacional de México, Tectonics Festival, Frye Art Museum, Time Based Art Festival (TBA), WNYC, The New Foundation, Paris Fashion Week, Northwest Film Forum, On the Boards, Seattle International Film Festival, Seattle Jewish Film Festival, Bumbershoot, Crossing Border Festival, Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts, Joe’s Pub, the Stone, University of Chicago, and venues large and small throughout North America, Mexico, Australia, and Europe.
The original pressings are already hard to find, being extremely rare! Plus, to collect them all, you'd need the cost of a car for this parade of super pricey premium editions! If you want to enjoy the ultimate rare grooves, this is your only option!
These soul and funk performances, buried in the midst of the late 70s US record industry, which could be considered the destiny of the TAX SCAM label, are a must-listen! Enjoy killer tunes with grooves and feelings that are just as good as the hits of the time!
Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.
The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?
As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.
It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”
Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”
***
In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.
Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.
The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.
Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.
By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.
They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”
Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”
By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.
The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”
“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”
Mermaid Chunky. It's all in a name, sometimes. The danceable, costumed, curiosity rich duo of artists Freya Tate and Moina Moin are as imaginative as they profess. Or, to get more to the point, as we all need them to be. Freya and Moina are two visual artists and musicians from Stroud and South London, places where they importantly found communities (Stroud's SVA and the capital's Total Refreshment Centre) of like minded people just as willing to chase down an idea to its possibly illogical conclusion. And it is in the collective and the idea of participation that Mermaid Chunky really clicks. This is a party, a collective dance, made all the better with more: people, ideas, layers, kick drums, recorders, saxophones, frogs. To wit, the album's first track and first single, "Céilí," named after a traditional Scottish or Irish social gathering and dance, which builds from a simple recorder line into a swelling, warm burst of major chord dance music. Goosebumps or check your pulse. Further down the rabbit hole, "Chaperone" is almost boardwalk electro, like Fischerspooner on a ferris wheel; "Frogsporn" and "Nature Girl" are mucky, trippy dirges filled with stalactites of synth and squelch; "Tiny Gymnast" is a kaleidoscopic waltz into the night. Hold onto your seats, ladies and gentlemen. You might be wondering how we, DFA Records, all the way over in cynical Brooklyn, entered the picture. There was a day a few years ago, sun shining in full Springtime splendor, when James heard something while waiting for a coffee down the street from the office. It sounded simple yet deceptively complex: a dance track, but one where the one - that anchoring first beat in a measure - could be heard a thousand different ways. Frustrated and interested, he Shazamd the song, playing at the shop from an episode of Zakia's Questing show on NTS, and brought it back to the office, where we all listened to it about fifty times. (The song was "Friends," from Mermaid Chunky's VEST EP, released in 2020. It led to an invitation to open for LCD at Brixton Academy in 2022. Mermaid Chunky has also played live alongside The Comet Is Coming, Alabastair Deplume, Snapped Ankles, and many others.) Thus began our search for Mermaid Chunky. A quest it has been and a quest it will always be.
`Think Differently' is the debut LP by the duo of Callahan & Witscher. Jeff Witscher has been one of the most daring voices in underground American music for two decades, highlighted by releases on Pan and NNA Tapes. Jack Callahan's focused, uncompromising approach to sound caught the attention of both Demdike Stare's DDS label and Swiss composer Jürg Frey, who took Callahan on as his first composition student. Fans of their individual work might expect opacity, disruption, or rhythmic irregularity from their collaboration, but `Think Differently' sounds like a pitbull in a convertible, a sand-kicking beach party, the dopamine hit you get from 311 or Smash Mouth. It's a punchy, crunchy, highly infectious record. How did Callahan & Witscher cut the path from the ghostly margins of avant garde musics to the gutters of post-grunge American hard rock? In the words of Callahan, "at some point, you start to need a stronger drug." The most potent characteristic of this stronger drug is the guitar. And not just any guitar, but a sassy, contagious, blithe guitar. Its presence is a drastic shift for two guys who've combined to make dozens of records over the years, not a single one of which has a recognizable guitar sound on it. Alongside the cool breezes and hyperactive fretwork of Callahan's guitar playing, the songs are backboned by strutting, groove-happy vocals: all bark, all bite. Every song is a careful collage, light but dense, ornate with gang choruses, soulful femme vocals, autotune and whisper scratches. This accumulation almost manages to hide the record's potent undertow of dread. `Think Differently' unfolds carefully, a slow-motion demolition that reveals the anxiety of second guessing, the exhaustion of tour, creative bankruptcy, willful misunderstanding, the pain of caring. Setting this lyrical cynicism against such sonic glee isn't a spoonful of sugar, it isn't a bait-and-switch, it isn't a prank. After all, the dumb bliss of Sugar Ray's "Fly" shades a song about Mark McGrath's mom dying. "All Star" is about climate change. Most Sublime lyrics are a bummer. But there's still room for a raised beer, for a dumb grin. Like these ancestors, Callahan & Witscher aim at maximum uplift, at sounds that warm and dazzle like a sped-up sunrise. In spite of overdraft fees, in spite of bad art, in spite of self-doubt.
The Slovak trio Berlin Manson was formed as a so-called apartment band in the dark days of Corona lockdowns. The founders Patrik Nagy and Adam Dragun compensated for the lack of cultural activities by creating new and original music, where Patrik provided D.I.Y. made electronic beats with live guitar playing and Adam provided his lyrics full of irony and criticism of the scene and society.
After the first successful concerts and singles, the cloud around the name Berlin Manson is steadily growing. It wasn't until a track and music video titled I'm not dancing I'm nodding my head that catapulted them into the limelight of the alternative scene, heralding their debut EP Life Ends When You're Thirteen (2022). Later, the original duo were joined by drummer Tomáš Tabiš, who is also in the band 52 Hertz Whale, whose album was also released under the Weltschmerzen label. Their concert performances have gained more momentum and their drive has made them one of the most popular club and festival line-ups in Slovakia and the Czech Republic.
After a successful collaboration on the 2023 single Hotel Kyjev with Pisht Kralovic a.k.a. FVLCRVM, the band is releasing their first full-length album Poor but Sexy, with which they are moving under the Weltschmerzen roof. The fusion with roots in electronica, punk, pustpunk, rave and HC is once again complemented by Adam Dragun's great lyrics, which alternate social engagement with sarcasm, irony and cynicism, or nostalgia and sadness. On the current release we can also hear collaborations with guests such as Katarzia, Edúv Syn, Fvck Kvlt, Temný Rudo, Dušan Vlk or Paris.
*BLACK VINYL*Asher White's third album in two years (and fifteenth overall), Home Constellation Study is less a refinement of last year’s sly, quaint New Excellent Woman and more an explosion of it. Her meticulous chamber pop has given way to resplendent swells of horns and squeals of noise, throbbing bass and queasy orchestral loops. The cover, painted by White, frames a burst of flowers against a dark blue abyss, mimicking the music: over frenzied sambas, bleary slacker rock, hushed ambient meditations, and surprisingly slick disco. The past year has found the prolific Providence-based singer-songwriter ascending through her city’s fertile experimental rock scene alongside the breakout synth-punk act BabyBaby_explores and her labelmates Or Best Offer. Live, White’s band plays riotous, unpredictable noise rock that nods to their city’s storied DIY scene; on Home Constellation Study, mid-album highlights like “Downstate Prairie” and “Hymn” nod to Providence’s bands of yore with their blistering sheets of feedback and pummeling drums, placing White, improbably, within the lineage of local heroes Les Savy Fav or the broken pop dispatches of Black Pus. At its core, however, Home Constellation Study is the product of studied, monastic auteurism. Like New Excellent Woman, it was arranged, performed, recorded and mixed by White alone in her basement studio in Providence. “Happy Birthday” is an earnest psalm, a paean of devotion and remorse to God a la Beverly Glenn-Copeland that drifts along with Panda Bear haziness. White’s concept of “toxic femininity” undergoes further investigation on “Good luck!” and “Runes,” both with Elliott Smith-like chord changes and the barbs of cynical romantics like Aimee Mann. Asher White’s vision has never been so expansive and unpredictable.
Joseph Washington Jr.'s 1983 holiday LP puts a soulful, funky, suave ribbon on nine frosty Christmas cuts. In that season of music's traditional descent into threadbare schmaltz, Merry Christmas to You restores joy and wonder to a blizzard of bland. Under this tree, find undiscovered classics for our cynical age: the buoyant "Jesus' Birthday," the hot and bothered soul of "Merry Christmas," the ridiculously catchy wallet-opener "Shopping." The world of records produces just a precious few yuletide keepers: Spector's A Christmas Gift for You; Fahey's The New Possibility; Guaraldi's indelible Charlie Brown Christmas. Down another nog and file Joseph Washington Jr. comfortably next to those.
Green Vinyl Joseph Washington Jr.'s 1983 holiday LP puts a soulful, funky, suave ribbon on nine frosty Christmas cuts. In that season of music's traditional descent into threadbare schmaltz, Merry Christmas to You restores joy and wonder to a blizzard of bland. Under this tree, find undiscovered classics for our cynical age: the buoyant "Jesus' Birthday," the hot and bothered soul of "Merry Christmas," the ridiculously catchy wallet-opener "Shopping." The world of records produces just a precious few yuletide keepers: Spector's A Christmas Gift for You; Fahey's The New Possibility; Guaraldi's indelible Charlie Brown Christmas. Down another nog and file Joseph Washington Jr. comfortably next to those.
THE SINISTER DEBUT ALBUM OF PURE NORWEGIAN BLACK METAL
FEELING,FEATURING MEMBERS OF AURA NOIR, OBLITERATION &
CONDOR."Underground metal the way it should sound returns to
Kolbotn!" - Fenriz (Darkthrone)From the depths of Norway looms a new
rising beast of hate & misanthropy in the form of Avmakt
Featuring the duo of Kristian Valbo & Christoffer Brathen - known for their work
with such acts as Aura Noir, Obliteration & Condor - their debut album, 'The
Satanic Inversion of....', is a grim & revelatory offering. Primitive in a way that
captures the early magic of Kolbotn's metal kings, Darkthrone, as well as the stark
chaos of early-era Bathory along with their very own distinguishable stamp on the
genre, 'The Satanic Inversion of....' is a masterclass of real Black Metal feeling,
wrapped up in a hypnotic frenzy of ice-cold riffing.
Though both members had played in bands covering different genres since their
early teenage years, Black Metal had always been one of the most important as a
vehicle for an honesty & fierceness that resonated deeply within the duo, without
the need for extravagant clothing or pretentious concepts. And so Avmakt itself
was born as the vessel for channelling this stripped-down raw feeling.
Formed in 2020 & with their one & only demo release gaining traction in the
underground, the Norwegians quickly came to the attention of Darkthrone's Fenriz
& Peaceville Records & Avmakt was swiftly included on Peaceville's Black Metal
Compilation, 'Dark Side Of The Sacred Star' which launched at the end of 2022.
Avmakt itself means "powerlessness", the sense of being overwhelmed & not
able to have any influence - without choice, voice, or hope. And so, it is from far
down in this psychological abyss that Avmakt's ideas & expressions manifest
with the completion of their debut studio release; 6 sprawling epic tracks
recorded with the assistance of Arild Torp, also of Obliteration & encapsulating
such themes as emptiness, desolation & alienation in a powerful display of
sinister, uninhibited Black Metal.
The second release to come out of Sound Metaphors’ collaboration with the Italian electronic music Don, Gianpiero Pacetti aka JP Energy. “I Have A Pessimistic Outlook Of Life E.P.” showcases a considerably more mature and polished sound relative to the previous release as the artist moves into the end of the 90’s and seems to shed the naive playfulness one could still hear in “Strano E.P.” with it's Italo-disco influences. Here things get more serious and even more “industrial” with a darker and perhaps more cynical tone, not unlike the title of the EP. A 3 track record, very much oriented towards the dance floor, “Fantastic Machine” comes in at over 130BPM with a very metallurgical flavour, something one could imagine hearing at a moving assembly line for car engine parts in a factory somewhere in Brescia, yet with an overlaying eerie nuance. “Automatic Sun” comes in with a very driving beat, the secret weapon of the release by all means, very effective employment of electronic percussive elements. And finishing the EP, Gianpiero’s Requiem to the format, a once record store owner who by 1999 might have already been feeling the tides of change brought in with the early CDJs (one could imagine) “The End Of Vynil” goes into full on electro territory with the beat and very much in tune with the title expresses a funerary darkness with the melodic elements. All in
When Man Man released its last album, "Dream Hunting in the Valley of the In Between," frontman Honus Honus (née Ryan Kattner) was in a state of unrest, oscillating between hope and cynicism. Perhaps fittingly, the album dropped during the pandemic, a time at which we could all relate. But, much like that bizarre turn of events, the ennui now seems so distant to Man Man. A revived sense of purpose washes through Man Man's new album, Carrot on Strings, radiating a mix of calm and confidence. Kattner always embodied a wild-man pied-piper vibe: his melodic, unhinged art-rock was at once intriguing and angsty. He was so alluringly creative that you went along with it, even if you were never sure where Man Man would take you. Carrot on Strings is no less inventive, but its ethos is radical in context of the band's two-decade career. "When I was younger, I would feed off of chaos. I would, you know, be upset and get drunk and smash chairs," Kattner explains. "Now those chairs are in my head: It's less of an outward projection, more of an interior monologue." The name "Carrot on Strings" came to Kattner while experimenting with the sound of someone munching on the vegetable, which you can hear in the cacophonous, similarly named song. It alludes to how success always seemed to dangle uncertainly before him, often just out of reach. But listen intently and you'll hear a more content Kattner finding an uneasy peace: "Life, as far as I've known it, has always been side hustles. Would it be great if I could go into a studio and record for a year without figuring out how to finance it? Yeah, it would be," he says. "But ultimately, I need to keep making music because art is an extension of my psyche. It's how I have learned to translate the palpitations of my heart. Simply put, I'd go insane without it." Growing up as a multiracial Hapa kid (half Filipino, half white) with a father in the U.S. Air Force, Kattner lived an itinerant childhood that included a few pivotal years in Germany, where he honed in on an appreciation for out there German cinema and art. His film obsessions and screenwriting background were crucial to Carrot on Strings. The album nods to the films of Werner Herzog and Rainer Werner Fassbinder as much as Italo-disco, Randy Newman, goth rock, and avant pop. (Kattner continues to work in the film industry with an acting role in the upcoming horror-comedy movie Destroy All Neighbors, for which he also served as composer; music supervising season 1 & 2 of the Interview With The Vampire AMC TV series; and shopping around, with director Matthew Goodhue, a script he wrote that he describes as a Wim Wenders road movie on acid.) In a bid to not overthink anything - his last album took seven years to make - he recorded the bulk of Carrot On Strings in five days in Mant Sounds studio in Glassell Park, Los Angeles with "very chill" producer Matt Schuessler, who had worked on Man Man's cover of Neu!'s "Super" for the seminal Krautrock band's box set. The resulting album represents a newfound sense of self for Kattner, who finds himself inspired and at peace both personally and artistically in ways that eluded him for most of his first 15 years playing music. When, on Carrot On Strings, you hear Kattner croon humbly, or sing of the tension between his outsize stage persona and the thoughtful, soulful guy he actually is, you're hearing Kattner liberate himself. "I first got into music to escape from myself," he says. "And now, it sounds so corny, but I have zero doubt that music ended up saving my life."
Sect have a lot on their minds. With the release of their brand new single, New Low and the promise of Plagues Upon Plagues, the follow up full-length to 2019’s Blood of the Beasts, Sect explore the intersection of issues which have cascaded over us for the last five years, the “plagues” of the title referring to the literal pandemic, and the metaphorical plague of the political state and the rise of fascism.
Comprised of an international cast of stellar musicians, who cut their teeth in a formative moment of political, cynical, antagonistic extremes, Sect unites Scott Crouse (Earth Crisis, Tooth & Claw) & Jimmy Chang (Undying, Catharsis) - guitars, Steve Hart (Day of Suffering, Mania For Conquest) - bass, Andy Hurley (Fall Out Boy, Racetraitor) - drums and Chris Colohan (Cursed, Unwell) - vocals. They released No Cure For Death in 2017 and Blood of the Beasts in 2019.
Plagues Upon Plagues opens with the bereft waves of “No Uncertain Terms”, a side of the band we haven’t seen before. Vocalist Chris Colohan describes this album as “a funeral rather than a trial”, the activism of previous releases fading to sorrow and grief.
Lead single New Low follows with the advent of marching drums, a funereal procession for the world we hoped to build. There’s frantic horror on the album too, with the track “Drowning in Sorrows” taking a look at the ways in which we numb ourselves as a society. “#ForeverHome” is a bitterly angry track about how people used animals for both narcissistic virtue signalling and one-way comfort in the pandemic, and abandoned them en masse just as selfishly when social life came back. Speaking to their straight-edge principles and how that continues to feed into their songwriting, Chris says, “the only kind of straight edge songs I’m interested in writing are dynamic ones that address human realities that you don’t have to be straight edge to engage with.”
On Plagues Upon Plagues, Sect pierce through the veil of complacency, forcing listeners to confront uncomfortable truths about the fragility of our world. The band wields their sonic arsenal like a prophetic warning and with raw vocals and uncompromising lyrics, they confront the harsh realities of existence in these tumultuous times. As society teeters on the brink of chaos, Sect's cold hard statement resonates with an urgency that cannot be ignored.
Remastered vinyl of the original album which came out on CD only in 2005. Limited to 200 copies on classic black vinyl. This is an album that’s as alive as any could be. Indeed, far from sounding like the last desperate set of half-baked ideas from a once vital band (hello Oasis?) Artists Cannibals Poets Thieves is more like a debut album from a bunch of teenage upstarts: free from cynicism, fired with worldly wonder and chock full of ideas. This is certainly a different outfit from that of 1998, when they first wowed us (via John Peel, naturally) with the utterly essential sprawling noise that was The Things We Make. Long since stripped down by a series of resignations from a five strong collective to a taut three piece featuring founding members Chris Olley, James Flower and Chris Davis, the music has simplified considerably. Gone are the soundscapes of old, and in their place we have a series of sharp basslines, swirling keyboards, cutting guitar lines and the passionate hollering of frontman Olley. Opener All I Really Want From You Is Love is a perfect introduction to proceedings – a truly wonderfully distorted slab of indie rock, recalling early Jesus And Mary Chain in both its fuzz and, crucially, its wonderfully crafted tune. Next, Nowhere To Go But Home sounds like New Order if they’d emerged from Detroit in 1966. Tonight (I Wanna Make It Out) follows likewise with the best bassline Peter Hook never plucked. Throughout, Six By Seven manage to sound so natural, so refreshing free of the flab and introspection that a band on its last legs would usually succumb to. And whilst the momentum is momentarily lost as the drum machine makes an appearance to fashion the Suicide-esque trawl of Stara Paris Rescued Me, it’s not long before Just Get It Down muscles things back on course with a whispered Olley diatribe perched on top of more raw cacophony, before we reach the bitter end via the Depeche Mode-on-smack You Know I Feel Alright Now. Tracklisting:
"Let The Canary Sing" ist eine Best-Of-LP, die Cyndi Laupers Karriere von ihren Anfängen bei "Blue Angel" über ihre Durchbruchssingle "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" bis hin zu ihrem ikonischen Popstar-Status nachzeichnet. Mit Hits wie "True Colors", "I Drove All Night" und weiteren ist diese Kollektion ein Muss für jeden Fan von Cyndi Lauper.
Galaxy Orange/Black Vinyl. Limited to 500 copies. Data Diamond is the sound of FOUR STROKE BARON at their most confidently unhinged. Originally conceived as two separate EPs (one purely electronic - Data, one heavy - Diamond) that would then meld together on one full length release, the idea morphed into what is now the succinct sucker punch of an album that is heading our way at speed. Heavily inspired by their own work on Data Diamond's predecessor, Classics, Witt and Vallarino got to work in their laboratory creating the most potent, concentrated form of FOUR STROKE BARON possible. Data Diamond - a dizzying sub-40 minute dive into the deranged psyches of its creators. The tracks on Data Diamond are lithe yet still allow enough room for idiosyncratic flourishes that mark this out as a true FOUR STROKE BARON opus. If Classics was a Man vs. Food belly busting plate of indulgence, Data Diamond is an upmarket Gordon Ramsay dish, served with a side of insanity. Finding a co-conspirator in Cynic's Paul Masvidal, the trio get somewhat psychedelic on the album's eponymous closing - and most expansive - track, which also features Vola's Adam Janzi on drums. Thematically, this is their most murderous anthology to date. Those who find themselves embroiled in these bloodthirsty tales include a Radio Shack CEO, an internationally acclaimed cyborg, an accidental trafficker of human body parts, and the leader of a death cult located in a convenience store. FOUR STROKE BARON's anomalous view of the world takes a particularly dark turn across the songs on Data Diamond, yet, as ever the macabre tragedies are dressed up with catchy melodies, pop hooks for days and a big shimmering bow of positivity.
Die 5. Ausgabe der gefeierten Serie von Jem Records Artists steht voll unter der Sonne von Mick Jagger & Keith Richards. ...und das Track-Listing kann sich sehen lassen! Mit den gewählten Songs aus dem Jagger & Richards Repertoire wie z.B. Jumpin' Jack Flash ft. The Midnight Callers oder Ruby Tuesday ft. Nick Piunti ist der musikalische Spaß vorprogrammiert! Mit Anmerkungen von John Borack, dem geschätzten Rockautor. Zusammengestellt von Jem-Präsident Marty Scott und mit Grafiken von Anthony Parisi. Zu den Künstlern gehören The Weeklings, The Grip Weeds, Paul Collins, The Anderson Council, The Cynz und die neu verpflichteten The High Frequencies.
