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Superb mentalcore realese :)

Chicago? Absolutely! Detroit? Definitely! For many, however, a significant chapter in the coming-of-age story of House music was also written in The Netherlands.

This 8-track compilation is the result of a nationwide search for lost Digital Audio Tapes (DAT’s), dusty home-studio recordings, and other relics from those early days. The distinctive "House" sound eventually evolved into a rainbow of local styles and grooves. Back then, DJ’s played their heart out and didn’t limit themselves to any particular musical genre. Following that spirit, this compilation contains everything that makes the Dutch sound so special, from energetic Breaks to atmospheric Deep House.

These are not your usual suspects, not even the most revered diggers have this collection at their fingertips. It's raw, pure material from the time when house parties were fresh and dirty at the same time. Back when the only dress code was a wide smile from ear to ear. Four sides with two tracks each, ensuring maximum DJ enjoyment. Now get out there and spread the Dutch 90's House vibes!

Repress!

One of the gems on the smash hit album 'Soulmatic', Purple Disco Machine & Boris D'Lugosch's, 'Love For Days' gets the remix treatment three ways.

First up the master Kenny Dope - crisping up that shuffling rhythm with some added percussion and synthesiser arps to turn what was already a peak time soulful anthem, into a close to 8 minute extended journey drawing you in more and more with each build up and breakdown. Next up the PDM offers up an extended mix of the original, a welcome sight for those DJs on the club scene who have been rinsing this since the album dropped last year.

Finally, Motez takes you into raunchy, r&b tinged, garage territory, really honing in on Karen Harding's incredible vocals whilst incorporating brooding pads and sweeping fx's to create a special twist on the original.


DJ Support:

Aeroplane (Aeropop / Eskimo Recordings), Klingande / Kungs / Michael Calfan c/o (Unity Group Promo Sorter), Autograf (Counter Records), Treasure Fingers (Psycho Disco! / Fool's Gold), Malente (Southern Fried Records), Satin Jackets c/o (Eskimo Recordings / N.E.W.S.), Eric Sharp (9G Records), Gregor Salto c/o (Spinnin' Records), DJ Blake Jarrell (Armada Music), Jerome Price (Throne Room Records), DJ Licious (Spinnin' Records), Travis Emmons (Weapons Music), Electronic Youth (KMS), Solidisco (Fool's Gold / Ultra) :: Mark Knight c/o (Toolroom Knights), Mike Mago (Boemklatsch), Muzzaik (Spinnin' / Toolroom), The Disco Boys (We Play Music), Trevor Mac (Jalapeno Sound System), Ferdinand Weber (Spinnin' Deep), LCAW (Ultra), Plastic Plates (Sweat it Out), Mark Lower (Nurvous), Don Diablo c/o (Axtone / Spinnin' Records), Eton Messy, Après (Love & Other Records), Spada (Ego Music / Hysterical), Eelke Kleijn (Spinnin' / Suara), Horsemeat Disco (Strut Records / K7! Records), Horsemeat Disco (Strut Records / K7! Records), Adriana Lucia (Get Physical), Broc Roc (Dj B-Roc of The Knocks), Chordashian (Mullet Records), Hector Romero (Saw Recordings), Just Kiddin (Nervous Records)

Idris Elba c/o (Connaisseur Records / 7Wallace), Klingande / Kungs / Michael Calfan c/o (Unity Group Promo Sorter), Shiba San c/o (Suara / CUFF), Malente (Southern Fried Records), Rudimental (Asylum / Big Beat), Sirus Hood (Under No Illusion / Dirtybird), Marc Spence (This Ain't Bristol / Skint), Martin Solveig c/o (Spinnin' Records), Horsemeat Disco (Strut Records / K7! Records), Riva Starr c/o (Hot Creations), Mike Mago (Boemklatsch), Kokiri (Love & Other), Fred Falke (Work It Baby Records), Claptone c/o (Exploited), Roger Sanchez (Stealth Records / Astrx), Don Diablo c/o (Axtone / Spinnin' Records), Icarus (FFRR / SubSoul), Pezzner (Dirtybird), Jourdan Bordes (Phonetic Recordings), Mahalo (Toolroom / Bunny Tiger), AC Slater (Night Bass), Chordashian / Felix Feygin (Mullet Records), Fei-Fei Wang, Kristina Sky (Ultra / Armada), Thee Cool Cats (Toolroom / Bunny Tiger), Solidisco (Fool's Gold / Ultra), Infected Mushroom c/o (HOMmega Productions), DJ Blake Jarrell (Armada Music),Travis Emmons (Weapons Music), Human Life (LIFEX / Exploited), Treasure Fingers (Psycho Disco! / Fool's Gold), Hector Romero (Saw Recordings), and Danny Howard (BBC Radio 1 / Nothing Else Matters)

Big welcome to Time is Now for J Wax for a bit of a statement EP and I am coming out swinging here cos this is a really good record. There’s good, and then there’s this, the kind of good that stays good.

You know that feeling when something’s just right. When flow state becomes clarity. Well listening to this EP from J Wax gives me that feeling. This is proper Goldilocks business. It’s equal parts Gun Fingers and Loved up hugs. Just right.

By now we all know that something very special happens when Speed Garage collides with 1st wave UK Hard House - but - what makes this just right is that J Wax didn’t stop there, just like the Dutch 2nd Wave of Hard House he’s slid onwards into euphoric trance and oh boy am I here for it. In 1997 we got Double99’s Rip Groove and Nalin & Kane’s Beach Ball and for me this EP has as much in common with perfectly formed ‘97 Trance as it does with Speed Garage. Who says you can’t have it all!

We’ve been following J Wax’s output for years. He has been grafting hard. And for me he’s already firmly a part of the long lineage of globally significant Scottish party starting producers and DJ’s. So when we signed this EP to Time is Now I was gassed. Four big tunes. Sick EP. For me it’s crystal. J Wax is now a producer operating in rarefied air.

Run the Tracks….

A1. The dubplate of ’Peaches’ has been causing mayhem for a minute. Gliding in smooth before that big diva vocal screams down the bassline.

A2. J Wax tags in Edinburgh local RUA.DJ. The pair double up on ‘Shift’ for a slice of Trance infused but no-nonsense Speedy G. Reece bass & gun shots + bouncy synthline & ethereal chords. Lose it and yourself.

B1. ‘Soul Movement’ is a big room weapon. Serious levels on this one that leave no doubt - this is a producer at the top of his game, writing high energy weapons to destroy the dance.

B2. ‘Smokin’ is peak time bizness. Harder darker house with a diiirty dirty south vocal chop. This one is heads down & lock in…

Goldilocks.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

"Time's Up"! Die australischen Streetpunker von "The Clinch" kommen endlich über den großen Teich mit ihrem brandneuem, dritten Album und ihrer ersten Europa-Tournee! 2018 erschien ihr Debut "Our Path is gone" und die 5 köpfige Band aus Melbourne avancierte schnell zum Geheimtipp: Schnörkelloser rough'n'tough Aussie-Streetpunk mit dirty RnR-Kante a la Rose Tattoo und einer Prise Brickwall-American Oi! Dazu Texte fernab der üblichen ausgetretenen Pfade und dezent eingesetzte aber stets mitreißende Gang-Vocals. Schnell machten Vergleiche mit Bonecrusher oder Bishops Green die Runde. Mit dem 2 Jahre später erschienenen Nachfolger "Basecamp" zementierte The Clinch ihren Ruf und die weltweiten Kritiken von Maximum RocknRoll bis Ox-Fanzine waren sich einig: Diese Band hat das gewisse Etwas und startet durch! Die erste Tour in Europa wurde geplant um aus dem Schatten des Outbacks heraus zu treten_dann kam die Pandemie und eine Krise folgte der Nächsten_aber aufgeschoben ist nicht aufgehoben: Im Fühjahr 2026 veröffentlichen "The Clinch" mit "Melbourne" und "Journeyman" digital die ersten Single-Auskoppelungen und kündigen mit "Time's up" ihr neues Album auf Sunny Bastards an! Musikstil und Sound als bewährtes Rezept sind gleich geblieben auch wenn The Clinch thematisch noch persönlicher den Finger in die Wunde der Gesellschaft legen_ Streetpunk, authentisch, ergreifend, ehrlich und ungeschönt ohne Pathos: 10 harte Volltreffer, die Spuren hinterlassen! "Man's not fed on good intention. No Safe Spaces left to mention" Songs wie "Stray Dogs" oder "FED" sind unter die Haut gehende Underdog-Anthems über Kampf, Verzweiflung, Zuversicht und sich nicht unterkriegen zu lassen. "Another day, another try"! Das Leben ist halt eine Reise und endet für Alle gleich! Mit Deinen Freunden im Rücken, einem Kämpferherz und "Seelenfutter" wie diese Platte ist es jeden verdammten Tag ertragbar. Also genieß es bevor "Time's Up!"! Oder um es mit "The Clinch zu sagen" It's my chosen way of life"!

"Time's Up"! Die australischen Streetpunker von "The Clinch" kommen endlich über den großen Teich mit ihrem brandneuem, dritten Album und ihrer ersten Europa-Tournee! 2018 erschien ihr Debut "Our Path is gone" und die 5 köpfige Band aus Melbourne avancierte schnell zum Geheimtipp: Schnörkelloser rough'n'tough Aussie-Streetpunk mit dirty RnR-Kante a la Rose Tattoo und einer Prise Brickwall-American Oi! Dazu Texte fernab der üblichen ausgetretenen Pfade und dezent eingesetzte aber stets mitreißende Gang-Vocals. Schnell machten Vergleiche mit Bonecrusher oder Bishops Green die Runde. Mit dem 2 Jahre später erschienenen Nachfolger "Basecamp" zementierte The Clinch ihren Ruf und die weltweiten Kritiken von Maximum RocknRoll bis Ox-Fanzine waren sich einig: Diese Band hat das gewisse Etwas und startet durch! Die erste Tour in Europa wurde geplant um aus dem Schatten des Outbacks heraus zu treten_dann kam die Pandemie und eine Krise folgte der Nächsten_aber aufgeschoben ist nicht aufgehoben: Im Fühjahr 2026 veröffentlichen "The Clinch" mit "Melbourne" und "Journeyman" digital die ersten Single-Auskoppelungen und kündigen mit "Time's up" ihr neues Album auf Sunny Bastards an! Musikstil und Sound als bewährtes Rezept sind gleich geblieben auch wenn The Clinch thematisch noch persönlicher den Finger in die Wunde der Gesellschaft legen_ Streetpunk, authentisch, ergreifend, ehrlich und ungeschönt ohne Pathos: 10 harte Volltreffer, die Spuren hinterlassen! "Man's not fed on good intention. No Safe Spaces left to mention" Songs wie "Stray Dogs" oder "FED" sind unter die Haut gehende Underdog-Anthems über Kampf, Verzweiflung, Zuversicht und sich nicht unterkriegen zu lassen. "Another day, another try"! Das Leben ist halt eine Reise und endet für Alle gleich! Mit Deinen Freunden im Rücken, einem Kämpferherz und "Seelenfutter" wie diese Platte ist es jeden verdammten Tag ertragbar. Also genieß es bevor "Time's Up!"! Oder um es mit "The Clinch zu sagen" It's my chosen way of life"!

"With raw energy and uncompromising attitude, Devil's Cigarette has quickly become a rising force on Sweden's rock scene. Their music blends the nerve of classic garage rock with fresh, modern intensity - delivering big choruses, blazing riffs, and irresistible grooves.
On stage, they are more than a band: they are an explosive statement. Sweaty, intense, and unforgettable, their shows turn every night into a party where the audience is part of the chaos.
Their new album Meet Me On The Floor Tonight, recorded by Otto Perrin and refined by Robert Pehrsson (The Hellacopters, Thunder Express, Tribulation), captures youthful passion with sharper focus and dynamic sound. It proves Devil's Cigarette is not only a powerful live act but a band pushing rock'n'roll into the future.

"On a dozen restlessly expressive instrumentals recorded between Marin and Reykjavík, the American guitarist finds turbulent beauty at the edges of the fingerstyle tradition." - PITCHFORK 7.9/10

"The greatest living guitar player" - Hayden Pedigo

Today, guitarist Mason Lindahl — whose “unabashedly beautiful" (Aquarium Drunkard) sound "balances the romantic dynamics of flamenco and the meticulousness of Windham Hill with the unguarded qualities of improvised music" (Pitchfork) — announces a pair of new albums: Joshua / Same Day Walking via Mt. Brings Death.

Though packaged together, Joshua and Same Day Walking chart distinct worlds. Recorded in northern California and produced by Robby Moncrieff (Dirty Projectors, Zach Hill), Joshua is woolier and warmer, evoking haze, humidity, and overgrown Spanish moss. Meanwhile, Same Day Walking — recorded in Iceland and produced by Moncrieff alongside two-time GRAMMY-winning composer / sound designer Sam Slater (Joker, Chernobyl) — is, appropriate for its icier climes, windswept and beholden to the vast emptiness of harsh landscapes. As a pair, they provide a thorough portrait of Lindahl's singular and versatile playing.

Amid Lindahl's purely evident virtuosity, close listeners can savor wonderful imperfections freckled throughout Joshua / Same Day Walking: buzzing strings, minimal electronic ambience, soft undulations of tempo. Lindahl isn’t here to pageant his craft; he's adventuring within, uncovering fresh avenues of sound and emotive gesture.

Described by friend and contemporary Hayden Pedigo as “the greatest living guitar player,” Mason Lindahl’s “austere, gothic flamenco...dares you to submit to this odd and immersive sonic universe" (Uncut). The Northern California native's solo instrumental debut Kissing Rosy in the Rain, released in 2021 via Tompkins Square, was praised as "gorgeous" (Petal Motel) and "a minimalist gem" (Everything Is Noise). Prior to that, his only other solo release is 2009's Serrated Man Sound.

This 1983 period in which Gyllensköld was recorded was a fantastic time for the evolution of Steven Stapleton’s audio art. His collaborations with Diana Rogerson, Robert Haigh (Sema), David Tibet, and Thirlwell around this time elicited some of the most exciting work Nurse With Wound had yet recorded. Listen to this material and compare it to Chance Meeting and it becomes clear that in just a few years, Stapleton’s art had grown by leaps and bounds. The production quality on these tracks is remarkable, and the widening out of the NWW soundworld opened up a whole new audio toybox that Stapleton has continued to experiment with up to today. This new sound encompasses vocal experiments, vintage LPs of easy listening music, demented nursery rhymes, lateral references to disposable pop music, avant-garde jazz and minimalistic piano composition, all glued together with evocative atmospheres redolent of things unholy, troubling and perverse, but always oddly indefinable and puzzlingly misshapen. In retrospect, Gyllensköld can be seen as the beginning of the “mature” period of NWW, and thus it is an indispensible release for fans of the project. : Brainwashed

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

Underground Pacific is back with a new double vinyl compilation titled ‘The Only Good Wave is a Dead One’ that confirms, once again, its uncompromising taste for bold electronic music, psychedelic textures, and raw, electrified rock ‘n roll. This release brings together a varied group of artists, each of them adding something special to the journey.

The trip begins with “Excursions” by Gregory Moore, a piece that floats into a humid sonic world, between the nostalgic tones of vintage video game soundtracks, the Fourth World atmospheres of Jon Hassell, and the shimmering calm of ’90s Japanese ambient à la Takashi Kokubo.

Next comes Talee, the Rotterdam-based regular of the label, with “Makes Me Wonder”. Here, grunge-soaked vocals meet a tight dark disco groove, pierced by crystalline guitar chords that shimmer at the track’s heart. A song with its soul in the past and its feet in the club.

Label founder Cantor teams up once again with German duo New Hook on “Achtung! Achtung!”, an homage to the eponymous track by Italian producer Black Saagan. Fueled by vintage drum machines, punk-infused vocals, and melodies echoing the krautrock minimalism of Cluster, the track channels pure Cold War disco energy.

On “Scavengers”, Berlin based World Wild Web and Rasp Thorne deliver a pure mix of electro-rock noir – Suicide by way of David Lynch. Picture a never seen before episode of the series where Martin Rev and Alan Vega are playing live at the Roadhouse in Twin Peaks, while Laura Palmer slowly moves her head to the music, with a devilish smile on her face.

All the way from Grenoble to Berlin, H.L.M. deliver a dirty bass-driven anthem called ‘Fronde’. French spoken vocals spitfire over layers of distorted drones and hypnotic rhythms. The result is rough, hypnotic, and brings to mind the grooves of Death in Vegas.

New Hook return, this time solo, with ‘Unity’: a blend of groovy downtempo percussions, melancholic guitar riffs, and their signature brand of spoken word, a style that’s quickly become their sonic fingerprint.

Then it’s the turn of mexican-wave exponents Montessori featuring Vongold on “Ad Libitum”: a techy sunrise piece with soft pads, subtle build-ups, and an ecstatic sense of endlessness. After-party music for vast, open spaces.
Next up are SX2 from Ireland with their ‘Buttons’, offering a rolling tech-house banger laced with desert guitars. Psychedelic FX’s and whispered vocals drenched in delay slow the pace in a breakdown full of tension, preparing the floor to an euphoric release.

A dream from the pandemic era reappears: Cantor’s “Hannett’s Dream”, originally released in 2020 by Modular’s Project’s imprint ‘Nothing Is Real’ together with their own reworked version present also in two very limited vinyl-collector editions released by Underground Pacific. The introspection and hypnotic structure of the original cut here is replaced by a more stripped down arrangement, with a four-to-the-floor groove that is perfectly crafted for peak-time ignition.

Closing out the release is “Carissima” by the man behind iconic label Wonder Stories, Aimes – a Moroder-esque bassline and sensual vocals play on top of a warm groove that suddenly fractures into jazz-tinged, breakbeat mood, in the style of early Warp Records, just in time to get back into its disco-ish swing.

Contrary to what the title of this release might suggest, the wave isn’t dead at all. It’s well alive in the underground, reanimated by labels like Underground Pacific who are always ready to welcome artists who aren’t afraid to crash genres together and, above all, who are driven by the desire to make free-form, inspired pieces of music.

CRONOS features the first 3 blistering singles from the mighty Two Fingers vs Muadeep collaboration plus 4 more skull-banging tracks.

“Dirty, dragging, massive. If Godzilla had a soundtrack while destroying a city, it would have been this EP.“ – Muadeep

Dieses Album ist ein "slow grower" und auch nach 10 Jahren klingt dieses dunkle Werk des New Yorker Duos noch frisch und berührend. Vor 10 Jahren kam das raus, nun legt das Label BB*ISLAND das lange vergriffene Vinyl in einer limitierten Sonderedition nochmal auf. Gepresst auf "Sparkling Starlight" Vinyl, verpackt in einem DeLuxe cover. Dazu gibt's ein gefaltetes Poster mit den Lyrics und eine Postkarte mit Downloadcode. Der Download beinhaltet neben den Albumtracks auch noch einen exklusiven 1-stündigen Interviewpodcast mit Shee Keeps Bees. She Keeps Bees, aus Booklyn, sind die Singer/Songwriterin/Gitarristin Jessica Larrabee und Schlagzeuger/Produzent Andy LaPlant, die seit 2006 über selbstproduzierte Aufnahmen und zahlreiche Konzerte zu einer besonderen Einheit zusammengewachsen sind. Ihr Ausgangspunkt war ein roher, soulful Bluesrock, in der Presse wurden Vergleiche zu Patty Smith, White Stripes (...in reverse" :Guardian), The Kills, PJ Harvey oder Cat Power gezogen. Die geben eine erste Ahnung wo's lang geht, hinken dann aber doch, ob der ganz eigenen Chemie und Qualität dieses Duos. Schönheit durch Reduktion, Direktheit, Leidenschaft, Intimität In diesem Sinne ist den beiden nun ein besonders eindringliches Album gelungen. Eight Houses schwelgt in der rohen Kraft des Subtilen. Ruhe und Raum finden sich hier auch im kontrollierten Chaos, wenn Larrabee's Gitarrenriffs krachen und über LaPlant's stoische Beats schwappen. Dann wieder sind Ihre Kompositionen knapp koloriert, mal mit hageren Piano Linien, mal mit ein paar Bläsern, die sich kurz aus dunstigen Ecken erheben, eine warm rollende Orgel wischt durchs Bild, ein Synthezier zirpt fern. Das Album lebt von Understatement und Spannung, dunkel, bewegend, kraftvoll, erlösend. Ganz im Mittelpunkt steht Jessica Larrabee's Stimme - lakonisch, von besonderem Ausdruck. "she has one of the best voices I have ever heard and she has more soul in one finger than most female singers have in our scene." meint Sharon Van Etten, die hier auch bei zwei Songs, "Is What It Is" und "Owl", backing vocals beisteuert. Für Eight Houses hat das Duo erstmals mit einem externen Produzenten zusammen gearbeitet, Nicolas Vernhes (Deerhunter, The War On Drugs, Dirty Projectors, Wye Oak, Lia Ices, etc.).

Kenner von Richard Swift wissen, dass sein Katalog umfangreich und phantasievoll ist, vollgepackt mit ebenso vielen ausgefeilten, eiskalten Klassikern wie verrückten Ein-Take-Experimenten. Diese Kleinode kommen in allen Formen und Größen, und während das den Eingefleischten nichts ausmacht, ist der Einstieg in die Musik von Swift für den Neuling schwierig: Wo soll man anfangen? Was kommt in die engere Wahl? Wie viele Crooner? Wie viele wilde Lieder? Vor diesem Hintergrund präsentiert Secretly Canadian "4 Hits & A Miss - The Essential Richard Swift", einen bescheidenen Versuch, die siebenundvierzig Minuten und vierzehn Songs zusammenzutragen, die die Uneingeweihten einführen können. Wenn Sie Richard Swift nicht kennen, lassen Sie sich von dem unvergleichlichen Kevin Morby aufklären: "Es gibt einen alten Pfadfindermythos, von dem ich als Kind gehört habe, dass man eine Kapelle bauen kann, wenn man die richtige Person mitten in den Wald setzt, bewaffnet nur mit einem Schweizer Taschenmesser. Wenn ich an diesen Mythos zurückdenke, denke ich an Richard Swift, der, wenn man ihn mitten im Wald mit einem 10-Dollar-Radio-Shack-Mikrofon absetzte, irgendwie ein Studio bauen konnte und in diesem Studio eine Kapelle des Klangs errichtete. Tatsächlich hat er genau das in seinem eigenen National Freedom Studio mitten in den Wäldern von Oregon getan, in einer Stadt namens Cottage Grove, wo er unzählige Stunden seiner eigenen Musik und der anderer Leute aufgenommen hat. Diese Kapellen des Klangs werden - und ich habe es bereits erlebt - kommende Generationen in Ehrfurcht versetzen und inspirieren, so wie es die Steinkapellen im frühen Europa tun. Beide lassen die Menschen verblüfft zurück und fragen sich: Wie konnte etwas so Massives und Schönes mit so minimalen und archaischen Mitteln gebaut werden - und in Richards Fall so schnell? Nach ihrem Tod scheinen die meisten Künstler endgültig zu ruhen, ihre Kataloge ruhen für immer neben ihnen. Aber Richard scheint aus dem Jenseits rastlos zu sein, und die Arbeit, die er hier unten auf der Erde begonnen hat, geht weiter. Sein letztes Album, The Hex, wurde nur wenige Monate nach seinem frühen Tod im Jahr 2018 veröffentlicht, und jetzt haben wir mit 4 Hits and A Miss eine Sammlung seiner beliebtesten Songs sowie einen neuen, noch nie zuvor gehörten Track "Common Law", aufgenommen um 2012. Ob Gelegenheitsfan oder Swift-Purist, 4 Hits & A Miss ist entweder ein perfekter Startpunkt oder ein Ziel für uns eingefleischte Fans, um wieder einmal etwas Neues zu finden, das uns beeindruckt und inspiriert. Wie ein versteckter Raum in seiner bereits beeindruckenden Kapelle gibt es immer etwas Neues von unserem geliebten Freund und Helden, dem verstorbenen großen Richard Swift, zu entdecken." Viel Spaß!

Mit The Hard Quartet hat sich eine Band zusammengetan, der man mit Blick auf ihre Mitglieder wohl den ein oder anderen Superlativ zuschreiben kann. Immerhin tummeln sich hier mit Stephen Malkmus, Matt Sweeney, Emmett Kelly und Jim White vier Musiker und Songwriter, die mit prägenden Größen des Indierocks assoziiert werden: Pavement, Chavez, Ty Segall, The Cairo Gang, Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Guided By Voices, Cat Power, Dirty Three und Bill Callahan sind nur ein Bruchteil der musikalischen Institutionen, bei denen die vier ihre Finger (und Stimmen) im Spiel haben. Über das selbstbetitelte Debüt von The Hard Quartet wird m Netz schon seit Bekanntwerden der Gründung der Band angeregt spekuliert: "Es ist einfach ein vertrauensvolles Umfeld, in dem alle bereit sind zu sagen: Komm wir werfen unseren ganzen Kram in einen Topf und machen daraus etwas Größeres", so die Band dazu. Dass es trotz der getrennten musikalischen Biographien so gut läuft, ist aber sicher auch der Tatsache zu verdanken, dass sich die Wege der Vier schon zuvor immer wieder gekreuzt hatten. "Ich habe eine geradezu vorzeitliche Geschichte mit Stephen und Jim", so Matt Sweeney. "Nun, zumindest reicht sie bis in die Neunziger. In jüngerer Vergangenheit war es dann Emmett, der einen wirklich tiefen Eindruck bei mir hinterlassen hat. So sehr, dass es die Art verändert hat, wie ich übers Spielen denke." Das Album vereint die Stärken von Malkmus, Sweeney, Kelly und White, oszilliert zwischen sonnigem Slacker-Rock und Noise-Experimenten und dürfte alle mit einem Faible für die goldene Ära des US-Indierock begeistern.

Mit The Hard Quartet hat sich eine Band zusammengetan, der man mit Blick auf ihre Mitglieder wohl den ein oder anderen Superlativ zuschreiben kann. Immerhin tummeln sich hier mit Stephen Malkmus, Matt Sweeney, Emmett Kelly und Jim White vier Musiker und Songwriter, die mit prägenden Größen des Indierocks assoziiert werden: Pavement, Chavez, Ty Segall, The Cairo Gang, Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Guided By Voices, Cat Power, Dirty Three und Bill Callahan sind nur ein Bruchteil der musikalischen Institutionen, bei denen die vier ihre Finger (und Stimmen) im Spiel haben. Über das selbstbetitelte Debüt von The Hard Quartet wird m Netz schon seit Bekanntwerden der Gründung der Band angeregt spekuliert: "Es ist einfach ein vertrauensvolles Umfeld, in dem alle bereit sind zu sagen: Komm wir werfen unseren ganzen Kram in einen Topf und machen daraus etwas Größeres", so die Band dazu. Dass es trotz der getrennten musikalischen Biographien so gut läuft, ist aber sicher auch der Tatsache zu verdanken, dass sich die Wege der Vier schon zuvor immer wieder gekreuzt hatten. "Ich habe eine geradezu vorzeitliche Geschichte mit Stephen und Jim", so Matt Sweeney. "Nun, zumindest reicht sie bis in die Neunziger. In jüngerer Vergangenheit war es dann Emmett, der einen wirklich tiefen Eindruck bei mir hinterlassen hat. So sehr, dass es die Art verändert hat, wie ich übers Spielen denke." Das Album vereint die Stärken von Malkmus, Sweeney, Kelly und White, oszilliert zwischen sonnigem Slacker-Rock und Noise-Experimenten und dürfte alle mit einem Faible für die goldene Ära des US-Indierock begeistern.

Sasu Ripatti presents the fifth and last volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Sasu Ripatti presents the fourth volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Cyan blue vinyl, limited to 350 copies. Repress of Child's sophomore album Blueside. "Mathias Northway and co. managed to keep the fuzzy blues sound going with an extra stimulating drive to the effects to their audible fingerprint. The entirety of this forty minute long, five track record is nothing short of a regal and hypnotic journey that not even hallucinogens could interpret." - Heavy Magazine

Repress of Child's sophomore album Blueside. "Mathias Northway and co. managed to keep the fuzzy blues sound going with an extra stimulating drive to the effects to their audible fingerprint. The entirety of this forty minute long, five track record is nothing short of a regal and hypnotic journey that not even hallucinogens could interpret." - Heavy Magazine

South African Warrick Sony is a ground breaking composer who was behind the Kalahari Surfers project which now gets a vital spotlight courtesy of Emotional Rescue. This compilation shows how effortlessly eclectic his sound was - from jive rhythms to jazz, tabla to political speeches and much more in between. A Hindu pacifist who was once conscripted into the South African Defense Force, he founded this group as a way out getting his ides out there, calling on other musicians as and when he needed them. It was the first radical white anti-apartheid pop in South Africa and as this vital collection shows it explored polyrhythms, slow motorik, dub sound collage and even a goofy cover of Nancy Sinatra.

Wiederveröffentlichte 2024er Pressung dieses unglaublichen Garagenrockwerkes! "The Ultimate Gospel Blues Trash experience recorded in 2001 London on the EMI Redd 17 desk (Abbey Road Studios) by Liam Watson this is pure Dirty ,your parents would not like it' Primitive Rock'n'Roll swearing and blood spiting preaching Raw Garage punk mixed up LO-FI Trash out of control Blues Trash at its best" - RBM, VVR Nach der Trennung vom Wrestling Rock'n'Roll Project Lightning Beat-Man musste der Beat-Man ins Krankenhaus und sah mit eigenen Augen den Tod. Jetzt, Jahre später, ist er zurück mit neuen Kumpels und einer neuen Mission: der Gospel Blues & Trash Mission. 1983 begann er als Ein-Mann-Band, für dieses Album heuerte er die Un-Believers an (Gery Mohr und Robert Butler von den Miracle Workers, Janosh von den Monsters und Gringo Starr, der auch bei den Never Heard Of'Ems, Lightning Beat-Mans Backing Band, spielte) und ging zusammen mit Liam Watson (Bristols, Masonics, Headoats_) in Londons berühmtes Toe Rag Studio, um diesen speziellen Swamp-Blues-Sound auf die Platte zu bekommen. Predigtlieder, Lieder über das Töten von Nachbarn, Predigten über das Abschneiden von Fingern, Lieder über den Gang ins Gefängnis, den Gang aus dem Gefängnis und sogar über das Verlieben und den Gang in die Hölle. Mach dich bereit für eine Menge Slide-Gitarren-Action und Mundharmonikagedröhne, Blues im Stil von Howling Wolf und Gun Club-ähnlichen Trash-Rock'n'Roll. Schwarze LP, Insert, Download Code

15 years after their last album of original music, the Robinson Brothers present ‘Happiness Bastards’- their 10th studio album. Some may say the project has been several tumultuous years in the making, but we argue it's arriving at just the right time. Call it brotherly love or music destiny that brought them back together, the highly anticipated record consecrating the reunion of this legendary band just may be the thing that saves rock & roll. In a time where the art form is buried beneath the corporate sheen of its successors, The Black Crowes are biting back with the angst of words left unsaid penned on paper and electrified by guitar strings, revealing stripped, bare-boned rock & roll. No gloss, no glitter, just rhythm and blues at it's very best - gritty, loud, and in your face.

Since The Black Crowes reunited in 2019, they've made a triumphant return to form with over 150 shows spanning 20 countries worldwide, celebrating the 30th anniversary of ‘Shake Your Money Maker’, the album that put them on the map. Upon their return from the road, they knew they needed something new to show for their lost time. The Robinson Brothers and longtime bassist Sven Pipien headed to the studio with producer Jay Joyce in early 2023 and the experiences of years past transcribed themself through the music as the band found their way back to their roots. And it's finally here!

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Sasu Ripatti presents the third volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--
”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

--

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” *click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” *click, click.

Nada is Bérurier Noir's first 45t EP, released in 1983, originally on vinyl, shared with the band Guernica. 6 punk-psychiatric, aggressive and cold tracks. All in a black and white sleeve, with a terribly disturbing illustration signed by François (singer).

"A delirious rhythm box, relentless guitars, impeccable lyrics, voices from hell, all in a sordid and unhealthy climate, puking as you wish. They walk in the forest, for sure, but their forest is made of concrete, psychiatric hospitals and torture rooms. They're getting uglier and uglier, it's true, but their ugliness is like their music, cold, dark and totally derisory. At last, a dirty record in which one can wallow with pleasure.

In Cauda Venenum n°7 - 1983



The band's name alone evokes the epic of alternative rock: rebellious and committed.

Born by mistake on a February evening in 1983, Bérurier Noir soon found itself the driving force behind a vast "Youth Movement", determined to take control of its life in the face of a society that was ultra conservative at the time. Times have hardly changed.

From the first self-produced records distributed by hand to the creation of self-managed labels, from concerts in squats and wild appearances in demonstrations, on the street or in the metro to endless tours, from interviews given to fanzines and free radio stations to unclassifiable appearances in the mainstream media, Bérurier Noir has waged the most exciting war of independence in the history of French rock, with only a microphone, a guitar, a drum machine, a few red noses and patched-up theatre masks.

The last finger of honour of this turbulent and irrecoverable raia, François, Loran and their "Troupeau d'Rock" commit hara-kiri, at the peak of their glory, during three last concerts in the heart of Paris in November 1989.

Forty years after its birth, Bérurier Noir's work still resonates, whether in demonstrations or free parties, nourishing the hopes of those who wish to overthrow this world to build a truly libertarian, united and fraternal society.

The label Archives de la Zone Mondiale reminds those who missed this unprecedented adventure, 8 discographic parts of the group Bérurier Noir in the form of reissues on particularly original colour vinyls (crown finish), in a limited series and distributed throughout the year.

In an age where most contemporary bluesmen strive to mimic the past and pattern their music after the greats, Keb' Mo' is content to be himself. Original, charismatic, and immensely gifted, the guitarist/vocalist (born Kevin Moore) brings country blues in the late 20th century on his stunning self-titled Epic debut, which quickly climbed the charts and turned the former backing instrumentalist into a household name. Replete with gritty textures, close-up vocals, and resplendent acoustics, Mobile Fidelity's scintillating version of this 1994 set finally possesses the fidelity that brings Mo's Delta strains out of the backwoods and onto a lively back porch.

Half-speed mastered from the original tapes, this numbered edition 180g LP represents the very first time that Mo's watershed album has been given a much-needed sonic facelift. Gone are the hazes that obscured his singing, artificial ceilings that blunted the highs, and digital fog that interfered with the multitude of illuminating tones, details, and notes. What's revealed is startling intimacy and soothing emotion, Mo's gorgeous vocal timbres and inflections given equal space with his guitar, harmonica, and pace. Finally, a great-sounding contemporary blues record that doesn't resort to derivative recycling and bland revivalism.

The son of Southern parents, Mo' channels his heritage via a batch of superb folksy songs that relax, refresh, and regale. While he's since traveled in a more commercialized pop-oriented direction, Mo's initial salvo is nothing but raw, pure blues played with unbridled passion, tremendous conviction, and what is best deemed the essence of heart and soul. Keb' Mo' engages with a compelling mix of tradition and modernity, the headliner refraining from any attempt at assuming an artificial personality and instead basing his reputation on quality songs. As such, Mo's material resonates with deep, mellow vibes and extraordinary National steel guitar work, which complements his fluid, acoustic finger-picking and soulful strumming.

Mo' occasionally teams with an ensemble. But this record is mostly all about the basics: guitar, voice, and harmonica. Tunes such as "Victims of Comfort" and "Angelina" testify on behalf of his phenomenal country-blues songwriting; his covers of Robert Johnson's "Come On In My Kitchen" and "Kindhearted Woman Blues" speak to his reverence for the past. Shuffles, ballads, dance songs – Mo nails them all.

Keb' Mo' remains one of the finest blues albums made in the post-Stevie Ray Vaughan era. Don't miss this American gem that so many have since tried to copy.

The Travels represents a signpost in the continuing journey that is the songs of Berlin-based artist
Molly Nilsson.

Starting out by hand-dubbing CDrs and forging a singular path in the global pop underground, Nilsson’s art has grown to the extent where hers is a precise songwriting devoid of unnecessary flourish. Her songs are perfect silhouettes of feelings everyone shares but that few can articulate with such heart-rending, icy pathos. Out of print for 4 years and in collectors market hell, NIght School has pressed 500 of this Molly classic on Transparent GREEN vinyl for RSD21

SweetSexySavage, the certified gold 2017 debut album from the Bay Area-born two-time GRAMMY Award-nominated multiplatinum songstress Kehlani, is out on vinyl on November 26th.

The 17-track, full-length debut, now available as a physical vinyl, includes the hugely popular tracks “Crzy”, “Distraction” and “Keep On”. It bowed at #3 on the Billboard Top 200 and closed out the year on Pitchfork’s “The 50 Best Albums of 2017” and Rolling Stone’s “20 Best R&B Albums of 2017” before eventually going gold, accompanied by sold out dates on the SweetSexySavage World Tour.

Critically acclaimed R&B pop songstress Kehlani embodies the title of her 2017 full-length debut album, SweetSexySavage and is praised by Complex as “a special talent, making the kind of personal music that speaks to her fans as much as it functions as a therapeutic release for her”. It doesn’t really need an explanation – you know exactly what Kehlani means when she sings. Without sugarcoating or softening a word, she will drop a hard truth in one breath and flip a middle finger in the next. She may extend a seductive invitation or an empathetic plea before leaving you in your thoughts and feelings. Either way, she finds a way to consistently relate without filter and with each move she strengthens this connection to listeners everywhere.

Pressed on pink marbled vinyl

Shall Not Fade's garage and breaks sublabel, Time is Now, has been a great success in its first year, and now starts 2021 with the first in a series of hand-stamped white label releases. London via Madrid up-and-comer Tower Block Dreams makes his debut for the label with five killer cuts, backed with a weighty remix from Manchester-based garage maestro and Time Is Now regular Interplanetary Criminal.

The A-side is all reliable garage bangers; the opener, "Wicked Ya No" is a rude wobbler for the early hours, with rave piano stabs and a dirty drop. Track two "Keep Coming" loses none of the pace, chopping up playful R'n'B diva vocals to a hard bassline; and the A-side ends with a sidewinding beast of a track in "Soundboy". Think retro synths paired with timestretched ragga vocals - it's unashamedly filthy.

Onto the B-side with gun fingers out for "Truss We", which plays again with ravey stabs and staccato female vocals for an instant dancefloor banger. Tower Block Dreams' last offering on the record is much darker; a forward stepper that cruises along at half-time, creating an ominous atmosphere on which to lead into Interplanetary Criminal's remix of "Wicked Ya Know". This one reimagines the record opener in the producer's trademark high-octane style, smattering hyper breakbeats across the track and turning up the wobble to end the record with a stinker

For this one, Jack and Meg decamped to Memphis to record at the legendary Easley-McCain Studio and walked away with a bonafide classic. Unique for a White Stripes album, as it contains no covers, no guest musicians, no blues and no guitar solos, this album would be most of the world's introduction to the band.

While the video for "Fell In Love With A Girl" could've single-handedly raised the price of LEGO stock the other jams on here are momentous, from the fuzz distorted clarion call of album opener "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground" to the finger-pointing accusations of "I Think I Smell A Rat" this album has everything you could ever want from the Detroit duo.

Cut directly from the original 1/4" master tapes, pressed on HEAVY 180-gram vinyl and lovingly ensconced in a beauteous Stoughton tip-on jacket...this album has never looked better, and perhaps, has looked markedly worse.

The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band are the greatest front-porch blues band in the world. They are led by Reverend Peyton, who most consider to be the premier finger picker playing today. He has earned a reputation as both a singularly compelling performer and a persuasive evangelist for the rootsy, country blues styles that captured his imagination early in life and inspired him and his band to make pilgrimages to Clarksdale, Mississippi to study under such blues masters as T-Model Ford, Robert Belfour and David “Honeyboy” Edwards. The band has built through their legendary live shows. Playing as many as 300 shows each year, the band has one of the most dedicated followings out there. This following is sure to eat up the band's latest offering, Dance Songs For Hard Times, a country blues record that was made the right way — two feet on the ground and both hands getting dirty.

Emotional Rescue delves deep in to the past with the release of the first ever recordings by UK post-industrial, ambient pioneers O Yuki Conjugate (OYC). Recorded in Nottingham in 1983, the EP's four tracks showcase OYC's early sound: a beat-driven, lo-fi that places them alongside the early British electronic pioneers.
OYC, celebrating their 35th anniversary this year, are known for their "dirty ambient" sound - but it wasn't always thus. In their earliest incarnation OYC explored a more industrial approach characterised by tortured analogue drum machines, one-finger synth lines, played bass, tape loops and even flute. This naive sound template lasted until their debut album 'Scene in Mirage' (1984) before being jettisoned in favour of more ambient explorations.The story behind these recordings is one of brotherly love between bands. OYC swapped time in their rehearsal space for a day's use of a four-track cassette portastudio owned by their associates, Metamorphosis. Three of the tracks included were recorded on May 1st 1983 at The End Room (literally a studio at the back of one of OYC's parents houses) with the remaining track (live favourite "The Clattering Song") being produced a couple of months later.
To date OYC have remained largely unknown in the UK due to their wilfully obscure approach. They have released a series of very well regarded studio albums and innumerable spin-off and side projects that has recently seen a revival of interest in their early years, including appearances on Cherry Red's compilation of formative UK electronic scene 'Close to the Noise Floor' and Optimo's compilation of Fourth World-style music 'Miracle Steps'.
Accepting their fate as musical outsiders, OYC continue to make music with little reference to the wider world. This EP makes a fine addition to that body of work.

Inspired by the success of last summer's retrospective on Poker Flat, Steve Bug takes up his Traffic Signs moniker once more for a fabulous jam that more than merits the 10-year wait. The uncredited tunes that first came out under this name were classic jack tracks that devastated dancefloors - and 'Cookie Jar' is a more than worthy successor. This is stripped-down house, Chicago-esque, direct and determined to make you move. Berlin legend Jake The Rapper adds downright dirty humour with a spoken vocal fit for an age of internet sextapes and celebrity photo hacking. 'I like what you're cookin. Those cookies smell goooood,' he rascalously declares. Three mixes sprinkle the musical equivalent of chocolate chips, pecans and Brazilian stardust over the original. Steve Bug makes fine adjustments for the club, bouncing around the kick drums and doubling the synth riff with strings, while Joyce Muniz's dark, strobing treatment adds a dirty bass line for sexy, sweat-drenched dancefloors everywhere. Stripping away the vocal on the dub, Muniz's production talents are all the more scintillating, irresistibly kinetic from beginning to end. The brilliant video for 'Cookie Jar' has been created by swiss-french duo Ben & Julia, who let us take part in their playful, colorful and surreal world that suits the song so well.