Buscar:dark get out

Originally released on tape by SicSic in 2014, Aprilnacht commemorates a decade of music from Brannten Schnüre and marked the spring in a tetralogy of albums about the four seasons when it came out. Back then the Würzburg-based project consisted solely of Christian Schoppik, who later welcomed Katie Rich to take over the vocals. He used to perform as Agnes Beil, but dropped the name when, while making this album realized his music was becoming "much gentler and more fragile". Aprilnacht already captured the particular musical ideas that Schoppik would thoroughly keep exploring, delving deeper and deeper into the use and manipulation of samplers from sources so diverging as to wander between the five continents to post-war German family television and cult cinema. Heir of the ritualistic intensity of Coil, of the intricate sampler assemblies of Ghédalia Tazartès', and of the dusty, dismal old ballads from around the world, Brannten Schnüre manages to make these paths cross in a territory that is as inherent as it is uncanny; sieged by the past and intimate as a hearth. An organic approach to folk, ambient, and sound collage, where ethereal yet thoroughly textured pieces coalesce in enthralling, delicate, and innermost musical rituals.

The album cover paintings reveal the temper: dreary old towns where shadows come to dim the slow passage of crepuscular colors, a soft area of reanimation where wind and light come close and foresee the night of spring. Aprilnacht was inspired by the stories of German philosopher and writer Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr, whose work exhaustively examines the conflict between paganism and Christianity, safeguarding myth in a way that Schoppik describes as boldly modern, humorous and unpredictable in its variations of the Germanic folklore motifs. "I wanted to do the same with the music," he states, and the music here could as well be suitable for a night when household deities welcome wandering will-o'-the-wisps, water nymphs, and gyrovagues to discuss Perchta's leadership of The Wild Hunt, but this album is not a folk tale, it's not an elegy to worlds already gone, hidden in years; it's an intersection of routes that open mysteriously before our ears like a congregation of vapors. Aprilnacht is a gathering of voices; "There are too many children, and none of them keeps quiet," reads the last verse of «Requiem für eine Ringelnatter.»

Sensuality drips over the music to celebrate both the voluptuousness and tragic quality of nature; "It's raining on me, urine from your flowers," Schoppik sings in «Urin deiner Blüten» and later on, faced with a snake's erotic features, as if he wanted to be embraced by it: "Your quick, sharp tongue and your warm venom; that's what the pond is missing." Orality is where this profusion of contents thrives. When the voices get closer and condense, the words reveal the saliva employed to pronounce them; we feel the mouth and the tongue, but when breath envelops them in sorrow and softens their edges, they sound distant, diffused in the atmosphere, letting go of the body that held them. These two vocal facets oscillate permanently and interact naturally with the fertile assembly of samplers and instruments that develop throughout the album, which condense and disperse impersonating each other, interweaving to search for a specific syntax. Tangled whisperings of enigmatic phrases, timid voices that stick out to check the scene but hide away quickly, shivering trance chants and monastic ambiances, distant screams and clamors in between chaos and warfare swirl until bursting into subtle songs where even Mother Mary comes forth softly. Soothed by foggy atmospheres and crackling punctuations, these voices shape a vulnerable crowd, an occasion of fragility. Along this swarm of songs thrown into thin air, accordions sound like heavy-breathing lungs; clarinets sigh like curtains shaking; violin solos wander around like bees; Gjallarhorns cries distend like fleeing cattle; glockenspiels evoke remote music boxes and inherited toys; backward emanations emerge like slender waves retreating. On the banks of stretching loops and ember textures is where the songs slowly nest, collecting the words to find their tone.

A poem by Jorge Teillier says, "To talk with the dead you have to choose words that they recognize as easily as their hands recognized the fur of their dogs in the dark. To talk with the dead you have to know how to wait: they are fearful like the first steps of a child. But if we are patient one day they will answer us with a flame that suddenly revives in the fireplace." This may be Brannten Schnüre's main purpose: To find the voice to speak to those of whom we were a vision. Not in mourning, but acknowledging the obscure and volatile nature of spring's regenerative force, searching for the treasure of balance, as evidenced in the lyrics of «Requiem für ein Schwalbennest,» "Its nest was destroyed so many times before it was finished, and despite that, the shallow builds as if it is infatuated." The same idea is here in the words of Schmid Noerr, who made poetry an act of resistance to the horror of Nazism; "Since having seen the ability of a brilliant spirit to die, with a calm mouth that everyone saw, health is true again and we affirm it, even if rivers of blood flow." And as we call for the dusk's kindness, waiting to return home and eat with our kin by the stove, our ears become used to the games of the night. We feel like we're rowing on wetlands, while the "moon musick" keeps us vigilant against the slightest movement of water or sweet moan because eeriness here is imperative for survival. Do not succumb to the insipid howl of death, for nothing may last but mutability. You see, the rock has moved a little during the night; the rest is just wind fleeing from the void.

With the back catalogue burned to cinders and the last few dog eared copies at Freerange HQ looking more than a little shabby, here's your opportunity to grab some of the labels highlights on the blackstuff. The complete boxsets have all gone now but you can still buy the box with Part One and add the individual releases.
Here on Part 4 we have the rather wonderful Isolée remix of Manuel Tur's Most Of This Moment, Switch in his finest hour with Get On Downz and Jimpster under his Audiomontage guise with the little known but highly revered track The Darkness.

Jackpot Records is proud to reissue what many call arguably the greatest album of the punk rock era: The Flesh Eaters’ 1981 punk-noir masterpiece, ‘ A Minute To Pray A Second To Die. Once referred to as an all-star roots/voodoo combo, The Flesh Eaters could only have crawled out of the myst of the late L.A. 70s punk scene. Fronted by punk poet/composer Chris D. (Desjardins), the band was a satellite for exquisite collaborators that allowed him to bring the full force of his dark, messed-up lyrical nightmares. Members of X, Wall Of Voodoo, Los Lobos, The Blasters, and The Plugz all hopped into his unmarked car to take a drive with Chris D. Its grabbed-by-the-throat vocals are powerfully buoyed by the tight melodicism emanating from the players on this record (John Doe andDJ Bonebrake from X, Steve Berlin of Los Lobos, Dave Alvin & Bill Bateman of The Blasters). Hell, we even get the perfectly executed John Doe original, “Cyrano de Berger’s Back,” which was re-recorded by X in 1987. The creators of this record made a pulp novel for your ears with an equal chance to scar your heart. Do not miss out this is punk noir at its greatest.

10 Years Anniversary compilation LP. Ten years ago, on 21 April 2014, Russian enclave of the Baltic Kaliningrad-based trio Blind Seagull started off its adventure in the soon to be known as Sovietwave aka Russian post-punk underground. Tean years later they have accomplished to release nine full-length albums on all sorts of limited edition formats such as LPs, CDs, tapes with most of them being sold out for years. It was time to bring many of these tracks back to life, picking up the best among them and reissuing for the global post punk/darkwave niche. Fifteen cuts previously released by labels like Detriti, Sierpien, Pine Hill through which the band led by Denis Zarubin has shaped its own brand of icy coldwave, one pretty classic and extremely fresh and contemporary at once. On top of these we have one more track exclusive to this release which is a eurodance-oriented remix for their minor hit Animals Die in the Scaffolding. Think of a bunch of goth kids screwing around at the local carnival and you'll get the vibe! Decade Of Effort is due on April 21, 2024 on white vinyl LP limited to 300 with fairy-tale artwork by the band enhanced by the magical lettering of young Spanish artist Sara Fornés.

The opening line of Emily Dickinson’s short poem ‘‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers’ inspired the central image of Emily Barker’s new single ‘Feathered Thing’, written while she navigated cumulative grief.

When Barker was first introduced to producer Luke Potashnick (Gabrielle Aplin, Jack Savoretti, Katie Melua) in May 2022, she brought with her a full album’s worth of songs. But after visiting Potashnick’s storied studio, The Wool Hall and hearing his ambitious production ideas, she was inspired to write one more song.

“I also needed to process some heavy news” she comments. Barker and her husband Lukas Drinkwater had been trying to start a family. Following a couple of failed IVF cycles (and other “starts that we’d lost”), they investigated adoption and had decided to relocate to Australia to be closer to Barker’s family.

“It felt like we couldn’t work out what we wanted, but we finally reached a point where we both felt at peace with not having kids,” Barker recalls. “It had been an incredibly intense time, coinciding with a house move and the pandemic.”

And then Barker found she was pregnant. “We’d done all these things to try to make it happen, and then it happened naturally (and against all biological odds). Having previously navigated losses throughout our pregnancy journey, we now had to get our heads around what having this new person in our lives might look like - emotionally and practically.”

Soon after work began on the album, Barker had a miscarriage.

“Songwriting has always been a way of processing throughout my life.” Barker reveals how the new song came quickly as she sat at her piano at home. She shared an early version with Potashnick and remembers him politely asking, “Do you mind telling me what this is about?”

“I think I’d left it too abstract, initially,” she reflects. “It was difficult to open up about the miscarriage, but Luke was very supportive and encouraged me to dig a little deeper without necessarily being specific. I revisited the lyrics, and the result is much stronger.”

“I went to the burnt-out woods/ A tourist with some damaged goods/ Remembered how the trees withstood fires before…”

“The opening line is a metaphor for knowing that I’ll get through this,” Barker clarifies. “It’s about recovery and hope, allowing yourself both the space to grieve and permission to move on”. But Barker’s optimism is never misplaced – she knows the imprint of imagined futures and lost children are carried in hearts and minds forever:

“It’s so hard to let go, wanted to know wanted to know you …”

“I think that it's important to share and normalise these stories, which are all too common, yet not openly spoken about. People hide their pain and don’t want to burden friends and family. I think behind all this anguish, there’s a deep, often untold story.”

Now that Barker is settled back in Western Australia, she’s embracing being an auntie. “I’ve got three younger siblings over here who I’m close to, and they all have kids,” she enthuses. “I look after my brother's kids, aged two and five, one morning a week.”

Recorded - along with the entirety of the new album - at The Wool Hall, ‘Feathered Thing’ begins gently, with oscillating piano and distant drums, until the arrangement gradually transforms into an instrumental dervish of vibrant strings, bass drones and cymbal crashes. Throughout, Barker’s vocals float tantalisingly like a slipstreaming feather.

Watch the video, filmed at The Wool Hall here. The Wool Hall is a studio in Beckington, Somerset, set up by Tears for Fears in the 1980s and used by artists including The Smiths, Pretenders, Joni Mitchell and many more.

Emily Barker is an award-winning singer-songwriter, best known as the writer and performer of the theme to the hugely successful BBC crime drama ‘Wallander’ starring Kenneth Branagh.

Her last album, 2020's ‘A Dark Murmuration of Words’, was produced by Greg Freeman and recorded at StudiOwz, a converted chapel in the Welsh countryside. Lyrically probing, by turns both dark and optimistic, Barker searches for meaning through the deafening clamour of fake news and algorithmically filtered conversation, delivering a timely exploration of the grand themes of our age. It garnered widespread acclaim, with Uncut calling it “…a kind of Australian equivalent of PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake”.

Barker has released music and toured as a solo artist as well as with various bands and collaborations, most notably her long association with Frank Turner, and has written for TV and film, including composing the soundtrack for Jake Gavin’s lauded debut feature ‘Hector’ starring Peter Mullan and Keith Allen.

‘Fragile as Humans’ is scheduled for release on May 3rd 2024 through Everyone Sang/Kartel Music Group. The album will also feature earlier singles: the vast, cinematic ‘Wild to be Sharing This Moment’ and the meditative, crestfallen ‘Loneliness’.

Chris Whitley was an artist with his feet planted in two very different worlds. On one side was a guitarist/ songwriter who grew up with the Delta and Chicago blues of Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, with some Bob Dylan thrown in. But at the same time, he was hanging out with NYC Lower East Side avant-gardeists like Arto Lindsey and Michael Beinhorn during his early ‘80s formative years. And it is precisely that tension between tradition and experimentation that makes his music so interesting and unique among “roots rock” artists. That tension is palpable on 1995’s Din of Ecstasy, his second record; Whitley abandons the acoustic blues-rock of his Living with the Law debut in favor of an album, that at first listen, owes a lot to the early-‘90s grunge movement. But Din of Ecstasy is hardly a johnny-come-lately to that sound; those are some truly weird tunings and chords being played by Whitley. It’s almost like he’s reinventing grunge in his own fashion, soaking it in blues and seasoning it with dissonance and feedback. Add some dark, druggy lyrics to the mix and Din of Ecstasy takes its place as one of the decade’s most adventurous albums, a cult classic way overdue for a vinyl release. Limited edition “clear smoke” vinyl, nestled inside a printed inner sleeve. Don’t sleep on this one

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

Red Vinyl

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

New Heaven, INTER ARMA’s latest album, is a compelling testament to perseverance, top to bottom. Its thicket of ever-dense layers of doom, death, and black metal occasionally let bits of light slip in, fleeting reminders to keep going amid the tumult. New Heaven marks a sharp turn for the band, showcasing some of the most extreme and angular songwriting INTER ARMA has ever laid bare. Known for their cinematic take on sludgy, extremely cavernous, and borderline psychedelic Metal, the Richmond band broadens their dynamics by seesawing between piledriving momentum and swirling oblivion. New Heaven crushers and conquers, and illustrates what INTER ARMA can truly be. Take the title track, with its hair-raising lead riff stemming from drummer/songwriter TJ Childers’ challenge to himself to write a nonsensically dissonant part that he ended up loving. The song spirals upward into a punishing Death-Metal march, Meanwhile, vocalist Mike Paparo’s stentorian bellows the bludgeon, above an impossibly complicated web of riffs and rhythms. From the get go, New Heaven and the opening title track eschews any restraint - INTER ARMA is completely unchained. Paparo’s keen and empathetic lyrics about innocent victims of war, addiction, and social apathy affirm that feeling, as a survivor grimaces at the carnage behind him and presses ahead best he can. “You stared into the brutish jaws of strife’s heartless device,” he growls into a chthonic blitz during “The Children the Bombs Overlooked,” a late-album powerhouse. “And you turned your back to hell.” That forward march out of madness is New Heaven in an armor-plated nutshell. Though this is indeed another INTER ARMA triumph, it is not a triumphant album, meant to offer some glib or naïve assurance that everything will be fine. What evidence is there for that, really, either on a record where friends are forced into submission, addiction, suicide, or retreat to a world where suffering remains the lingua franca? No, INTER ARMA and New Heaven are too realistic and experienced for that. This is, instead, a record about enduring brambles and curses and lasting long enough to make something profound, honest, and even affirming about it all every now and again—exactly as INTER ARMA has on New Heaven. FFO: Amenra, Neurosis, Full of Hell, Cult of Luna, Yob, Primitive Man, Thou, Ulcerate, Mastodon, The Body, Panopticon

About 20 years ago, Carlos Giffoni quickly made a name for himself both as a noise guitarist and a laptop noisician upon arriving in New York (via Florida and Venezuela). His expertly curated annual No Fun Festival, as well as his No Fun label, further solidified him as a key figure in the international noise scene. The festival's success proved the formula for experimental and improvised music fests could work with the noise underground as well, but it also capitalized on the faster rate of connections being made between geographically disparate artists as a result of the (still relatively nascent) internet. Back then Carlos would play his laptop like a pinball machine, in contrast to the static stage presence of most laptop performers, and his solo music, like many others' at that time, expressed a less dark and dour vision of the implications of harsh noise. By the close of the 2000s, he had stopped doing the festival, switched gears musically to playing the lighter No Fun Acid sets, and moved to LA. Now he has re-emerged in a big way with Dream Walker, his first full-length since 2018's Vain (and only his second since 2010). Inspired by the masterful performances and diffusions he heard at the February 2023 GRM electronic music festival in Paris, particularly sets by old friends Lasse Marhaug, Jim O'Rourke, and Eiko Ishibashi, he began conceptualizing new music of his own in response, turning to synthesizers and other hardware to produce a work more firmly in the tradition of European electronic music than anything else he's done. Intended as a late night listen that evokes the edge of consciousness, with Carlos getting as close as possible to a trance state during the actual recording and mixing, each of the eleven tracks transition into one another rather than being standalone discrete pieces, forming two side-long suites that proceed like stages of a dream. Unabashedly tonal and repetitive, the glistening opener "Now Dream," the droning "Sleep Walker," and the closing triptych of "Lost in Descanso," "Sunrise," and "The Hidden Path" occupy a power electronics-ambient nexus that feels spiritually close to the Mego label. Elsewhere, "Ticking Clock" is reminiscent of Stereolab's non-easy listening vintage electronic side, while the two-part arpeggiated "Euphoria" recalls early Oneohtrix Point Never (which Carlos released on No Fun). The contrast between "One Breath"'s crackling opening and its remarkably fluid and soaring sustained synthesized chords is a distillation of the album's lingering tension between electronics' ability to project mechanical rupture as well as the organic and the infinite _or "walking between dreams," as Carlos himself puts it. Produced by Lasse Marhaug (who also mastered Carlos' first solo album, Welcome Home, back in 2005), released by Stephen O'Malley (who I remember DJing at the No Fun fest), with cover art and photos by personal friends, Carlos considers the album a family affair. But Dream Walker most of all heralds a maturation of the artist, and stands as a record that exists out of pure desire, rather than obligation or force of habit; a statement of reconnecting with music not by merely revisiting it, but by building on what's come before, both in his own work and in the music he loves. -Alan Licht, New York, December 2023

Despite much publicity and high rotation on both radio and TV, the debut album from 2002 "Brand New Fool" was only out for a few months. After a delayed and messy release, and conflicts and rifts with the record company, the CD was withdrawn and destroyed. Now 20 years later, the album finally gets reissued on vinyl. "Brand New Fool" is a great collection of quirky, home recorded pop songs fueled with dark humor and catchy hooks

New album by the successful duo Steve Kilbey (The Church) and Martin Kennedy. Interest and profile of Steve Kilbey has been raised considerably over the past year due to The Church re-forming, touring and issuing 2 new albums. Steve’s solo albums are all getting a complete makeover and the fan clubs are ablaze with rumours and gossips regarding forthcoming releases. Reviews & advertising in Vive Le Rock, Record Collector, Classic Rock, R2, The Big Takeover. Embark on a mesmerising journey with the third and culminating chapter of the highly acclaimed trilogy by Steve Kilbey and Martin Kennedy. Building on the success of Jupiter 13 (2021) and The Strange Life of Persephone Nimbus (2022), their latest epic, 'Premonition K,' unveils a sumptuous and organic sonic landscape, delving into the dark and enigmatic realms that exist between the boundaries of life and death. This album, a testament to their musical synergy, encapsulates a darkly beautiful soundscape, drawing inspiration from diverse sources, ranging from the haunting tones of Roger Waters' Final Cut to the shadowy depths explored by early 1970s Black Sabbath. Steve Kilbey, best known as frontman of legendary Aussie post-prog rockers The Church, infuses each track with an emotional resonance and sense of mystery. Martin Kennedy co-pilots this sonic odyssey with Steve Kilbey, weaving an intricate musical bed for Kilbey's lyrical dreamings. Drawing from his twenty years of soundscaping with All India Radio, Kennedy adds layers of sonic complexity, at once warmly familiar and mysteriously strange, creating an immersive experience for the listener. Together, Kilbey and Kennedy invite you to break out the Ouija board, turn off the lights, and immerse yourself in the mysteries of 'Premonition K'

The legendary Horsepower Productions return to Sneaker for a thematically charged trip into future zones, driven by dexterous breakbeat science and ruffneck soundboy wisdom.

The UK dubplate heavyweights are no stranger to a loaded sample, and they’ve got a message to impart on this double-edged record. They kick off with a rumination on the planet’s fragile ecosystem on ‘Tropic’, which looks to a possible future with an ominous fate for the foliage we hold dear. Production-wise, Horsepower set electric drum loops off against lurid daubs of synth without derailing the motion, but a huge amount of the track’s impact arrives in the sampling from a cult classic slice of sci-fi. The premise is that the last remaining trees and plants from earth are adrift in space in a bio-dome, and have been condemned for demolition - a depressingly feasible scenario with an aggravated soundtrack to boot.

On the flip, ‘Computer Rock’ rides a tough break slow and hard and injects dystopian electro synth licks into the mix for a darkside roller that celebrates the visionary talent of Jeff Brown, aka Kase 2. Brown pioneered graffiti in the 70s with futuristic styles that still hold sway today, leaning into his own sci-fi imaginings about computer worlds inhabited by extra-terrestrial beings, Brown passed away in 2011, and this track and the attendant B2 cut ‘Kase - Reprise’ pay tribute to a forefather of hip-hop culture by channeling the future shock styles of Bambaataa et al without ever sounding throwback.

The concept on this record gets taken out further with the additional digi-only tracks, which take in the low-slung, skunked up funk of ‘Blaque Gras’ and the amped up rave damage of ‘Kase 2-Part 2’. Throughout, on-point samples and a clear-eyed focus bring out the best in the Horsepower approach, offering up next level dance wreckers with something to say.

EIGHTEEN AND I LIKE IT… (MISC. COLOURED VINYL))if you survived trips 1-17 with one tiny speck of psychedelic sunshine intact, Brown Acid The 18th Trip will be your coming of age nightmare. Vintage underground '70s hard rock, coming at you from bizarre angles, local scene wasteland America when everybody was out for themselves and the drugs went bleak. The guitars kill, the attitude is twisted, even the sex is headed down the wrong road. Real people, no compromise, pure and potent. Get stoked, take the 18th Trip and know that the artists will get paid for pulverizing your soul! "People… are you ready?, 'cause the music now is getting so heavy"… Back Jack out of St. Louis, Missouri in 1974 launch our trip with "Bridge Waters Dynamite". It's an invocation to rock flashing on Mark Farner whooping up a Grand Funk crowd, then getting to the point quickly with berserk guitar assaults. Heavy riff with power chord stalks beneath as you take their advice… get loose and blow up the past. Smokin' Buku Band dropped my jaw with the audacious track "Hot Love" coming on like some fractured fever dream burlesque of Led Zep moves out of Hollywood in 1980. Swooping elongated vocals above, a total Zep chord move at the end of each verse. Writer/producer Steve Shauger aka Shag Stevens gets a brilliantly messed up sound quality here, the ideal polar opposite of slick. The extended guitar break is an epitome of serendipitously crude virtuosity, simply outrageous! Coming at you from way outta left field is "Moby Shark" by Atlantis, a hilarious and strange Baltimore pre-punk vibed dose of D.I.Y. meets hard rock. Lon Talbot is the mastermind, the flip side of this impossibly rare Mekon Records label single was featured in an obscure 1978 B-movie titled "The Alien Factor". Follow the lyrics closely, when the ominous jaws jaws jaws start coming after you you you… the song's big hook is so preposterously catchy the shark attack feels like good news. Inquiring minds should know that the band formerly known as Atlantis can now be found by searching for the Lon Talbot Group! Tommy Stuart and the Rubberband's "Peeking Through Your Window" from 1970 opens with a spooky organ riff, slips into a gushy fuzz/organ groove akin to "Mustache In Your Face” by Pretty. The singer creates downright creepy vibes, a stalker peeking through the girl's mind like a peeping Tom at the window up to no good. The lyrics evoke a disturbing scenario. Tommy Stuart also made a strange LP titled Hound Dog Man in 1977 and some terrific rare garage singles under the names Magnificent Seven and The Omen & Their Love in the mid '60s. Nothing better than an angry two chord guitar attack with cowbell to set the stage for this rant about getting "Ripped Off" by love. Taken from their rare 1977 LP on Dynamite Records, Chicago Triangle was Marvey Esparza, Dave Guereca, Jose 'Tarr' Perez and Robert Aguilera. They unleash such strong brain-scrubbing wah wah frenzy in the guitar break here that it seems to perversely mock it's own intensity! Like I said, Brown Acid the 18th Trip comes at you from all kinds of uncanny angles. Damnation of Adam Blessing out of Cleveland, Ohio unleashed a stone killer psychedelic hard rock classic "Cookbook" in the late '60s, this track "Nightmare" from 1973 has them cooking again at full power. A different singer, name change to Damnation and then Glory, unleashing a deadly dose of dark progressive heavy rock drama peaking when spooky 'oooo-wa-oooo' background vocals emerge during a bizarre spoken bit. It unfolds like a mini-epic and includes some remarkably brutal guitar and turbulent organ, too. "Swing your sword, all aboard… bid farewell to the dreamer" Dalquist exclaims. Cynical view of human nature, idealism is over, war is coming, it always does. Opens with a cold menacing riff and atmosphere reminiscent of "Synthezoid Heartbreak" by Maya. Mournful despondent vocals ride an insistent churning groove, gnarly guitar break moves into free noise territory. This rare track is from a local various artists benefit album titled Kangaroo Jam issued for the Waco Family Abuse Center in Texas circa 1980. The Pawnbrokers "Realize" is prime proto heavy rock emerging out of psychedelic garage roots in 1968 Fargo, North Dakota. Unusual arrangement, terrific sustain guitar tones like on the first Blue Cheer LP, even a rip on Hendrix "Manic Depression" with unison voice and guitar ascent near the end. They made three 45s and were active from '65 to '69. Hats off to Blake English, Kent Richey, Paul Rogne and Steve Harrison, you nailed it in just a hair over two minutes! As pure and creative as the original psychedelic garage hard rock gets. Parchment Farm from Union, Missouri gigged with the likes of ZZ Top and Foghat back in the day and unleashed the amazing "Songs Of The Dead" in 1971. Primitive riff/chord pattern dosed with some funky prog moves, sky turning black, 'is this heaven or hell' type disoriented confusion… may as well grab your guitar and sing songs to the dead. Robert 'Ace' Williams on bass, Paul Cockrum on guitar, Gary Reed on keys and Micky Waterman on drums, replacing Mike Dulany (R.I.P.) Cool that they use the Blue Cheer misspelling from Vincebus Eruptum for the band name! Ominous organ, thick minimalist fuzz riff, funky psychedelic wah wah flashes and freaky sex combine in one twisted dance titled "Rockin' Chair" by Brothers Of The Ghetto. Out of Chicago in 1975 with some Santana atmospherics and a delicious fuzz wah screamin' guitar break, the groove is highlighted by an off the wall vocal which sounds eerily detached in a subtly sleazy way. Rene Maxwell is the writer of this hard-rock boogie-down hybrid straight out of the twilight zone. It was issued on Ghetto, a subsidiary of the peculiar Kiderian label that released the Creme Soda LP. Now that your head is totally skewered, go Back Jack and play side one again! (Words by Paul Major)

EIGHTEEN AND I LIKE IT… (MISC. COLOURED VINYL))if you survived trips 1-17 with one tiny speck of psychedelic sunshine intact, Brown Acid The 18th Trip will be your coming of age nightmare. Vintage underground '70s hard rock, coming at you from bizarre angles, local scene wasteland America when everybody was out for themselves and the drugs went bleak. The guitars kill, the attitude is twisted, even the sex is headed down the wrong road. Real people, no compromise, pure and potent. Get stoked, take the 18th Trip and know that the artists will get paid for pulverizing your soul! "People… are you ready?, 'cause the music now is getting so heavy"… Back Jack out of St. Louis, Missouri in 1974 launch our trip with "Bridge Waters Dynamite". It's an invocation to rock flashing on Mark Farner whooping up a Grand Funk crowd, then getting to the point quickly with berserk guitar assaults. Heavy riff with power chord stalks beneath as you take their advice… get loose and blow up the past. Smokin' Buku Band dropped my jaw with the audacious track "Hot Love" coming on like some fractured fever dream burlesque of Led Zep moves out of Hollywood in 1980. Swooping elongated vocals above, a total Zep chord move at the end of each verse. Writer/producer Steve Shauger aka Shag Stevens gets a brilliantly messed up sound quality here, the ideal polar opposite of slick. The extended guitar break is an epitome of serendipitously crude virtuosity, simply outrageous! Coming at you from way outta left field is "Moby Shark" by Atlantis, a hilarious and strange Baltimore pre-punk vibed dose of D.I.Y. meets hard rock. Lon Talbot is the mastermind, the flip side of this impossibly rare Mekon Records label single was featured in an obscure 1978 B-movie titled "The Alien Factor". Follow the lyrics closely, when the ominous jaws jaws jaws start coming after you you you… the song's big hook is so preposterously catchy the shark attack feels like good news. Inquiring minds should know that the band formerly known as Atlantis can now be found by searching for the Lon Talbot Group! Tommy Stuart and the Rubberband's "Peeking Through Your Window" from 1970 opens with a spooky organ riff, slips into a gushy fuzz/organ groove akin to "Mustache In Your Face” by Pretty. The singer creates downright creepy vibes, a stalker peeking through the girl's mind like a peeping Tom at the window up to no good. The lyrics evoke a disturbing scenario. Tommy Stuart also made a strange LP titled Hound Dog Man in 1977 and some terrific rare garage singles under the names Magnificent Seven and The Omen & Their Love in the mid '60s. Nothing better than an angry two chord guitar attack with cowbell to set the stage for this rant about getting "Ripped Off" by love. Taken from their rare 1977 LP on Dynamite Records, Chicago Triangle was Marvey Esparza, Dave Guereca, Jose 'Tarr' Perez and Robert Aguilera. They unleash such strong brain-scrubbing wah wah frenzy in the guitar break here that it seems to perversely mock it's own intensity! Like I said, Brown Acid the 18th Trip comes at you from all kinds of uncanny angles. Damnation of Adam Blessing out of Cleveland, Ohio unleashed a stone killer psychedelic hard rock classic "Cookbook" in the late '60s, this track "Nightmare" from 1973 has them cooking again at full power. A different singer, name change to Damnation and then Glory, unleashing a deadly dose of dark progressive heavy rock drama peaking when spooky 'oooo-wa-oooo' background vocals emerge during a bizarre spoken bit. It unfolds like a mini-epic and includes some remarkably brutal guitar and turbulent organ, too. "Swing your sword, all aboard… bid farewell to the dreamer" Dalquist exclaims. Cynical view of human nature, idealism is over, war is coming, it always does. Opens with a cold menacing riff and atmosphere reminiscent of "Synthezoid Heartbreak" by Maya. Mournful despondent vocals ride an insistent churning groove, gnarly guitar break moves into free noise territory. This rare track is from a local various artists benefit album titled Kangaroo Jam issued for the Waco Family Abuse Center in Texas circa 1980. The Pawnbrokers "Realize" is prime proto heavy rock emerging out of psychedelic garage roots in 1968 Fargo, North Dakota. Unusual arrangement, terrific sustain guitar tones like on the first Blue Cheer LP, even a rip on Hendrix "Manic Depression" with unison voice and guitar ascent near the end. They made three 45s and were active from '65 to '69. Hats off to Blake English, Kent Richey, Paul Rogne and Steve Harrison, you nailed it in just a hair over two minutes! As pure and creative as the original psychedelic garage hard rock gets. Parchment Farm from Union, Missouri gigged with the likes of ZZ Top and Foghat back in the day and unleashed the amazing "Songs Of The Dead" in 1971. Primitive riff/chord pattern dosed with some funky prog moves, sky turning black, 'is this heaven or hell' type disoriented confusion… may as well grab your guitar and sing songs to the dead. Robert 'Ace' Williams on bass, Paul Cockrum on guitar, Gary Reed on keys and Micky Waterman on drums, replacing Mike Dulany (R.I.P.) Cool that they use the Blue Cheer misspelling from Vincebus Eruptum for the band name! Ominous organ, thick minimalist fuzz riff, funky psychedelic wah wah flashes and freaky sex combine in one twisted dance titled "Rockin' Chair" by Brothers Of The Ghetto. Out of Chicago in 1975 with some Santana atmospherics and a delicious fuzz wah screamin' guitar break, the groove is highlighted by an off the wall vocal which sounds eerily detached in a subtly sleazy way. Rene Maxwell is the writer of this hard-rock boogie-down hybrid straight out of the twilight zone. It was issued on Ghetto, a subsidiary of the peculiar Kiderian label that released the Creme Soda LP. Now that your head is totally skewered, go Back Jack and play side one again! (Words by Paul Major)

FIRST 100 ORDERS COME WITH A DOUGLAS DARE OMNI CONDOM, ON A FIRST COME FIRST SERVED BASIS**First Pressing on Limited Translucent Red Vinyl**British artist Douglas Dare announces the release of his fourth album Omni. Seen by Douglas himself as a bold rebirth and embrace of the electronic, Omni is all at once a throbbing, avant-garde, queer, dark and cinematic record imbued with a love of rave culture and sense of fearless storytelling that’s deeply evocative. Omni will be released on May 10 via Erased Tapes. To mark the announcement, Douglas today shares the first taster of the record with ‘Mouth To Mouth’, a pulsing, synth-laden track that begs to be played loud. ‘Mouth To Mouth’ sees a collaboration with label mate Daniel Brandt who appears on production duties, with beats supplied by Rival Consoles. Speaking on the track, Douglas says, “life, death, fate and orgies; this is the heartfelt club track I always wanted to write.” Since 2013, Douglas has blurred classical, chamber-pop, folk and avant-garde to dazzling effect, with a startling voice that can stop you in your tracks. It’s why he’s played with luminaries like Nils Frahm, Perfume Genius and Ólafur Arnalds, and was selected by David Lynch and The Cure’s Robert Smith for their respective cultural festivals in Manchester (MIF) and London (Meltdown). But Douglas’s fourth album, Omni, is a fresh awakening. Encouraged by Erased Tapes founder Robert Raths, he decided to step away from acoustic instruments, especially the piano he grew up playing, and swapped them for synths and drum machines. His new music has much in common with Arca and the late SOPHIE, two artists for whom self-expression meant liberation. “I got to hang out in the studio with her,” says Douglas of the latter musician, “the way she made music made a big impression on me.” And yet Omni is steeped in the kind of deft storytelling, sweeping strings, elegant contrasts and fairytale atmosphere that marks Douglas out as a crucial and singular voice. It’s not often you hear a strutting electro banger that could have been straight out of 90s Soho, with vocal loops inspired by US experimentalist Meredith Monk. For Douglas, Omni is about reconciling all those different sides of himself – the songwriter, the raver, the lover, the observer. It’s a hugely queer record: seductive, sexy, lusty, untethered from the genre binary. “It’s even got sailors on it!” laughs Douglas. “You don’t get more queer than that.

It’s been a minute, but Sneaker Social Club is gassed to facilitate the return of the mighty House Of Black Lanterns, locking in for the dankest 2-step flex in a sincere ode to pirate radio culture. Dylan Richards has always displayed an affinity for low-end pressure threaded through his versatile HOBL output on Houndstooth and his prior work as King Cannibal, but he’s never dialled in to UKG with this much focus before.

The A side comes on strong with ‘Back To Back Special’, a dark garage creeper with negative space so vast it becomes all consuming — all the better for the ample MC toasting and spring reverb FX splashes to ping out around the skeletal, hard-knocking swing and snarling bass. ‘Out To The Private Number’ maintains the theme, flipping soulful UKG tropes into an ice-cold update for these malevolent times.

On the flip, Richards pushes the formula further out with ‘Slew’, which deploys hardcore-minded bass hooks in a devilishly dissected rhythmic framework and amps up the yard intensity on the MC source material to create a deadly intersection of garage, rave and dancehall. ‘Summon Like’ dials up the eeriness and lets the growl of the bass take centre stage in a potent, unnervingly minimalist dance wrecker that simply confirms the crystal clear vision Richards is pursuing on this record.

It’s a devout love letter to the edgiest of garage’s golden era without being limited to a simple genre study. Instead, a broad church of soundsystem exaltation gets expressed through the Richards’ elevated production vocabulary, capturing the shockout, mind-blowing spirit of the most trailblazing plates when they first got dropped on an unsuspecting crowd.

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

Nach dem durchschlagenden Erfolg ihres 50-jährigen Jubiläums bereiten sich BLUE ÖYSTER CULT mit der bevorstehenden Veröffentlichung von "Ghost Stories" auf ein neues, aufregendes Kapitel ihrer Karriere vor.

Dieses mit Spannung erwartete Album bildet einen würdigen Abschluss des musikalischen Vermächtnisses einer der größten Rock-Ikonen der letzten 50 Jahre. BLUE ÖYSTER CULT wird die Fans mit einer Sammlung von neu interpretierten und komplettierten Songs aus den Jahren 1978-2016 in ihren Bann ziehen. Diese musikalischen Schätze, die von Blue Oyster Cult-Enthusiasten schon lange als "verlorene Juwelen" angesehen werden, beinhalten die einzige bekannte Aufnahme ihres Konzertklassikers "Kick out the Jams" (MC5-Cover), was dieses Album zu einem wahren Zeugnis der
anhaltenden Kreativität der Band macht.

Auf Ghost Stories" sind die Mitglieder der Originalbesetzung zu hören, was eine musikalische Reise durch die Jahrzehnte ermöglicht. Die Arbeit im Studio an diesem Album wurde von Richie Castellano zusammen mit den verbleibenden Originalmitgliedern Eric Bloom und Donald "Buck Dharma"

Roeser abgeschlossen. Während BLUE ÖYSTER CULT ihren Status als "Classic Rock"-Phänomen festigt, erreicht die Vorfreude auf dieses Album ein Crescendo. Eine bemerkenswerte Reise in die Rockgeschichte.

RFXN kicks off life with a new single from David Agrella that comes with a bunch of great remixes. First off he offers up his own Acid Mix of 'Perro Balearico' and it's a supple, deep and dubby track with liquid synths and prog chords that sound both retro and future all at once. The orange is a more dreamy and spaced-out sound for 5 am sessions. On the flip is a more punch but still silky and warmly melodic remix from Mario Liberti before last of all, Gabriel Rai gets darker. His drums hit harder and the synths are moodier as he takes dancers down a late-night path of mystery and intrigue.