Cerca:dr space

Locked in a 486 glow, lightblink machines nightlight, being enters lighttime limelight. The long nineties already distending, the Major midbloats, crowds throng superclubs- strobelit honeys on a podium in Ibiza already blasted a stratosphere away from mildewed badflats, emphysemic parlours, the fug of week old washing drying slowly on the rad. Ach we’ll hang it out in the morning fire another joint of badhash and turn that tape over. We are being Here. beings disconnected, shut ins, psychick worriers, long walks to and from clubs, mostly dark, always raining, or mizzling anyway, lug bigbrick machines into cabs and Venue, setup and playing live and right now from the lounge lobby at Sativa, down the stairs from the caustic, twitching thrashpit being sits, being works. Dole sludge, shirking class zeroes, scoff pizza rolls w salad cream, that headchef gaffer never reckoned you’d graft at the potwash, a slick fur of rotfood dish slop residue right to the elbow, absolutely bowfin. Rumours of other places, people, scenes, tapes sent and emissaries return, invites to get trains, overnightbus south to London. being brought water to the ‘wells in South London and monthly emissions snaked out into the world, into badflats elsewhere where gowched couch tatties sprawl and the being burrowed deep into memories.. Tea is toast and sandwich spread and endless crisps as the binbags pile high in the backyard, the being blinks, it’s a twilit morning and it’s time to go to bed.

After 12 years in the game, Spanish nu-disco stable have reached the 100-release milestone, and they're celebrating with this vinyl sampler of the digital compilation. Includes 4 cuts by Dj Rocca, Eric Duncan, Mushrooms Project, and Rayko, putting the emphasis on heavily electronic grooves with a dark and leftfield twist.

Lux' is what we use to measure the intensity of light as we perceive it, when it's hitting or passing through a surface.

The first track, that gives the EP its name, embodies exactly that - the fluctuating, ever-changing nature of light; from fragile and fleeting to overwhelming and powerful. 'Lux' kicks off with warm synths creeping in, like rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Dreamy crescendos take you for a ride and build up until they melt into a comforting blanket of piano chords, accompanied by a propelling hi-hat pattern that will make you want to move. The track is hopeful, the start of a journey, with compelling break downs, industrial rhythm elements and powerful build-ups such as the one to the final section, dominated entirely by its fusion between techno-beat and dance-feel.

Next up is 'Odyssee'. An unapologetic track that picks up the pace. Kicking off boldly with harmonic tension and enticing drum sounds, it's hard not to surrender to the rich and fast-moving soundscape. Proud drums meet steel sounds and tentative piano figures, all glued together by the driving beat, determined to get to the next stop of this lifelong voyage. Striking accents, in the form of short-lived breaths or staccato bass lines take you through a labyrinth of growing gritty synths. A track that easily leads you through space and time and makes it feel like the most natural thing in the world. We're greeted with standalone bright and sparkly synth movements as 'Phoenix' rises and wraps us in warmth. Gently, like raindrops, a rhythmic pattern starts dripping in. Definition, like in many of his other works, blends rhythmical sounds that couldn't be more different into one, making them sound like they were never meant to exist unless next to each other. The track is a symbiosis of modern and classical sounds, lets us bathe in analogue warmth but always rolls along with digital precision.

'Phoenix' starts softly and ends in roaring flames: in a repetitively enchanting party, fabricated out of dark, pumping beats and gritty synths. 'Raven', the final of the four tracks and the lead single (released alongside the Jonas Ratshman remix just 1 week ago), intrigues with chants and empowerment just as much as with its determination and fragility. Falling from the highest heights, Raven lets you rediscover who you are when you hit the ground. Carried by a throbbing four-on-the-floor kick drum and covered in a synth-haze that is hard to resist, you'll float along, fall and rise with the everlasting wave-like movement of human existence.

Jess Cornelius first began writing the songs that would comprise Distance after moving from Melbourne, Australia to Los Angeles. At the time, she was excited to start fresh after several years as the primary songwriter in the band Teeth and Tonuge. But the distance she addresses over the album is hardly a geographical one. Instrad, Distance finds a deft songwriter analyzing the space between society’s expectations for her and her own dreams, the illusion of the love and reality of disappointment, and a past she is ready to let go of and a future she could have hardly imagined.

Distance documents a songwriter in the pursuit of living life on her own terms. As Cornelius puts it, “A lot of the rEcord was about me deciding to continue this nomadic lifestyle of being a musician. People would ask ne if I was going to have a family and lot of the songs are about me being ok with no pursuing that path. It was about coming to terms with the choice I had made.. And then two years later, I’m knocked up and married! I couldn’t have imagined that”

Cornelius gave a first taste of Distance with “No Difference,” released last year, which was featured by NPR’s All Songs Considered as well as Paste Magazine, Brooklyn Vegan, Hype Machine and Uproxx, who called it “a striking stateside introduction.”

On new single “Kitchen Floor,” Cornelius maps the space between the bedroom and the front door over a Roy Orbison tinged rave-up, lamenting the coming pain: “This is gonna be a hard one.” Its accompanying video, the first in a series in which she plays a familiar female character trope, was filmed by Cornelius and her partner on an iPhone at 5am in Los Angeles so they wouldn’t encounter any people. “I have a weird fascination with Hollywood Blvd — it’s such a grotesque place most of the time,” says Cornelius. “But I knew we’d have the chance to experience it deserted and empty, and it was like a different place. I’d been watching a lot of ‘last human on earth’ apocalypse-type films. Mostly, the concept behind the clip was to have this character just owning it. There are so many things pregnant women are not ‘supposed' be doing, like having casual sex with strangers. There’s a loneliness, too, that I wanted to get across in the clip, but ultimately she’s in a state of friendliness with herself and the world.”

After a year of sadness comes an album fit to resist it. Detritus, the third solo LP by violinist/composer Sarah Neufeld, confronts anguish with beauty, turmoil with grace, gliding through the present like a dancer mid-motion, reaching through space 'til she's caught. Detritus originated with a collaboration: in 2015, Neufeld was invited to appear on stage with the legendary dancer/choreographer Peggy Baker. Baker had prepared a solo piece based on work from Neufeld's second album, The Ridge, to which Neufeld added an original lyrical prelude. The live result was an incendiary duet, almost a sort of face-off, which left each artist unsated. They agreed to reunite for a more extended collaboration - a full-length show with Baker's company, where Neufeld would write to (and perform music alongside) Baker's choreography. It was a fertile partnership, uniting the two women's intense, curious, ferocious sensibilities across an age difference of 29 years. Baker had conceived the show around the title of Neufeld's prelude, "Who We Are In The Dark," exploring themes of loss, betrayal and the emptiness of space; Neufeld was herself in crisis mode, reacting to a specific, earthbound kind of grief (including the end of a relationship). Making work together, they drew on these raw feelings - insistent, urgent darkness but also something that was, for Neufeld at least, much more unexpected: a romantic, tender-hearted love, inspired by the movements of the dancers before her. The work premiered in February 2019. Even before Neufeld and Peggy Baker Dance Projects set off on tour, she had the intuition that this music might take another form: as a distilled set of songs, refined and developed beyond the versions performed on stage. Starting that summer, she began arranging this lush and soloistic material - work that eventually became Detritus - and performed some of these experiments at her own solo gigs. Neufeld worked throughout the process with her Arcade Fire bandmate Jeremy Gara, whose drums, synths and ambient electronics co-anchored the Peggy Baker shows and helped shape the reimagined album versions. She would go on to add foot-pedal bass synth, wordless vocals and swells of French horn courtesy of Bell Orchestre compatriot Pietro, bringing in woodwind wizard Stuart Bogie as a one-man flute ensemble, layering clusters of chords atop Neufeld's luminous compositions.

Backed by members of the David Nance Group, Rosali (Long Hots, Wandering Shade, Monocot) wades through the emotional mire with infectious, earworm melodies led by her luminous voice. With their rich, raw instrumentation, these rock ballads sound like the resilience discovered in facing one’s darkest moments, the assurance of the calm and clarity that comes after the storm. As she sings on the second track, “Bones,” “Through the darkness of the field / I walk through without yielding / To the rest of the feelings / I’m carrying.” With her confident song craft, Rosali illustrates the ability to push through, moving toward something greater without being destroyed by the weight of trauma.

Engineered by James Shroeder and featuring Kevin Donahue (Simon Joyner), James Shroeder (Simon Joyner, DNG, Connor Oberst), David Nance, Noah Sterba, Colin Duckworth, and Daniel Knapp, the album was recorded in ten days and the raw immediacy of the music is palpable across these ten tracks. Added adornment was contributed by Philadelphia's Robbie Bennett (War on Drugs) on organ and keys, and Matt Barrick (The Walkmen, Jonathan Fire Eater, Muzz) makes a percussion cameo on “Whisper,”which was tracked at Philly’s Silent Partner Studio, where No Medium was mixed by Quentin Stoltzfus (Mazarin, Light Heat). The open creative collaboration elevated the songs, resulting in the exciting, vibrant sound of the album.

Rosali wrote the bulk of these songs in January of 2019 while on a self-imposed two week residency in the hills of South Carolina. Alone in an old farmhouse, she experienced supernatural events and faced her own demons in the deepest darkness. Perhaps as a result, there is a boldness that permeates the album, a daring vulnerability in both the lyrical themes and their musical accompaniment. Rosali says, “I approach guitar playing the same intuitive way I sing, which is profoundly spiritual for me. Where words fail, the guitar becomes the conduit for raw feelings, providing a direct connection to them. I’m constantly working on being fearless in my work, which means showing the rough side, the mistakes along with the triumphs.”

While writing No Medium, Rosali was inspired by harmonographs—swinging pendulums that create beautiful illustrations of the mathematics of music—considering how the mind, too, creates images through song. She imagined herself as the swinging pendulum—“a body suspended from a fixed point” (Encyclopedia Britannica), governed by the forces surrounding her. She thought about the pendulum’s relationship to time, movement, and even its use in divination practices. The album’s title, lifted from Charlotte Brontë’s, Jane Eyre, resonated with this vision: “I know no medium: I never in my life have known any medium in my dealings with positive, hard characters, antagonistic to my own, between absolute submission and determined revolt. I have always faithfully observed the one, up to the very moment of bursting, sometimes with volcanic vehemence, into the other.” With the multiple meanings of “medium”—as middle ground, a term for psychics, and as the material of artistic expression—No Medium felt like the appropriate name, describing how the self is shaped by the patterns of life .

The influences for the sound of No Medium reflect this pairing of assured vulnerability, in the stylistic coherence of Bob Dylan’s Desire, the tender delivery in Iain Matthews’ Journey From Gospel Oak, the strut and swagger of Bowie’s Hunky Dory, the ambition and beauty of Gene Clark’s No Other, and the playful catharsis of Harry Nilsson’s Nilsson Schmilsson. The Richard and Linda Thompson-esque album opener “Mouth,” places Rosali within both a physical and emotional space. “East of the river I was travelling on / watch me lie, undone / rest me in a forest, overgrown / until I am free of all that I’ve known,” she sings. There is movement, both within a cityscape, and in her outlook on love. Speaking of her thought process when writing the song, she says, “I imagine confidently walking away from the past, toward a new approach to love and intimacy to achieve a closer relationship with myself.”

In “Pour Over Ice,” Rosali explores her relationship with alcohol and her former reliance upon it as a social lubricant to quell her social anxiety, an energizer to keep moving, a means to cope and self-medicate, and most addictively, to lure out her wild side as a free flowing, good time girl. While drinking helped her through some shitty times, it eventually got the upper hand and became an insatiable hole within. She says, “The ‘you’ in the song is really me, talking to that component of myself struggling with drinking and self-sabotage, caught up in the cycle, and all the bad choices I made.” She sings, “Maybe I didn’t care enough / or can’t remember / chasing small pleasures / making fire from embers.” Rosali wanted her lead guitar on this track to simultaneously sound like a slow motion car crash propelling her through the day, and the sound of a gnawing hunger for something more.

Rosali’s alliance with the Omaha musicians that orbit David Nance Group (including Nance himself) came about while on a Long Hots / DNG tour in the summer of 2019. Great friendships formed and one night after playing in Detroit, Dave suggested they be her backing band. The pairing was effortless and natural, and in November of the same year, they were recording No Medium in a basement in Omaha.

“My vision was big,” says Brighton-based singer Macve of the road to her second album. “I knew I wanted to do something more expansive than my first record.” With reach, feeling, storytelling power and a stop-you-dead voice, Macve sizes up to that mission boldly on Not The Girl. Following on from the rootsy saloon-noir conviction of her 2017 debut, Golden Eagle, Holly sets out for

deeper, often darker territory with a firm, unhurried sense of direction on her second record: on all fronts, it’s an album that looks its upscaled ambitions in the eye fearlessly.

For Macve, the combination of influences such as Nancy & Lee with time spent touring helped widen her horizons. “I wasn’t afraid of trying new things, and I wanted to explore sounds and develop my skills in production, composing and engineering. When I wrote the songs on Golden Eagle I had never toured, it was just me in my bedroom playing acoustic guitar. I then got the chance to tour the world with a band and sing with a symphony orchestra with Mercury Rev in 2017. My little world grew and I realised there was so much for me to learn about how I can use my skills as a singer and writer. I didn’t want to limit myself – I wanted to push my boundaries.”

At every turn, Macve’s powers of evocation are matched by the depth and strength in her voice. Witness the meeting of a plangent pedal-steel with her elastic vocal on the atmospheric “Be My Friend”, or the sultry verses and soaring chorus of “You Can Do Better”, which bring to mind a prairie-sized Mazzy Star. Guest guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones’ spacious contributions help enhance its sense of space. “Bill was an important part of the story of this record,” says Holly. “I love his playing – it helped create that kind of heavy, lazy, dreamy sound I’m such a fan of.”

Elsewhere, rich seams of contrast and counterpoint emerge. The Velvet Underground-ish “Sweet Marie” is epic drone-country, “Little, Lonely Heart” a symphonic waltz around the rootsy stuff of bad love, jealousy, and guilt. “Who Am I” merges a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound with a grunge-y melodic insouciance, while “Daddy’s Gone” finds Macve reflecting on the death of her father over Memphis soul-style backing, rendering complex emotions with controlled reserves of detail and drama before a roistering climax.

“My vision was big,” says Brighton-based singer Macve of the road to her second album. “I knew I wanted to do something more expansive than my first record.” With reach, feeling, storytelling power and a stop-you-dead voice, Macve sizes up to that mission boldly on Not The Girl. Following on from the rootsy saloon-noir conviction of her 2017 debut, Golden Eagle, Holly sets out for

deeper, often darker territory with a firm, unhurried sense of direction on her second record: on all fronts, it’s an album that looks its upscaled ambitions in the eye fearlessly.

For Macve, the combination of influences such as Nancy & Lee with time spent touring helped widen her horizons. “I wasn’t afraid of trying new things, and I wanted to explore sounds and develop my skills in production, composing and engineering. When I wrote the songs on Golden Eagle I had never toured, it was just me in my bedroom playing acoustic guitar. I then got the chance to tour the world with a band and sing with a symphony orchestra with Mercury Rev in 2017. My little world grew and I realised there was so much for me to learn about how I can use my skills as a singer and writer. I didn’t want to limit myself – I wanted to push my boundaries.”

At every turn, Macve’s powers of evocation are matched by the depth and strength in her voice. Witness the meeting of a plangent pedal-steel with her elastic vocal on the atmospheric “Be My Friend”, or the sultry verses and soaring chorus of “You Can Do Better”, which bring to mind a prairie-sized Mazzy Star. Guest guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones’ spacious contributions help enhance its sense of space. “Bill was an important part of the story of this record,” says Holly. “I love his playing – it helped create that kind of heavy, lazy, dreamy sound I’m such a fan of.”

Elsewhere, rich seams of contrast and counterpoint emerge. The Velvet Underground-ish “Sweet Marie” is epic drone-country, “Little, Lonely Heart” a symphonic waltz around the rootsy stuff of bad love, jealousy, and guilt. “Who Am I” merges a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound with a grunge-y melodic insouciance, while “Daddy’s Gone” finds Macve reflecting on the death of her father over Memphis soul-style backing, rendering complex emotions with controlled reserves of detail and drama before a roistering climax.

Norwegian duo Lost Girls, artist and writer Jenny Hval and multi-instrumentalist Håvard Volden, release their first album after collaborating for more than ten years. Volden has been playing regularly in Hval's live band for more than a decade, and their duo project goes back to an acoustic collaborative album from 2012, using the moniker Nude on Sand. Instead of resurrecting the previous band, Hval and Volden opted for a fresh start for their 2018 EP Feeling, taking nomenclatural inspiration from the 2006 graphic novel by writer Alan Moore and comics artist Melinda Gebbie. For their first LP, Hval and Volden booked an actual studio (Ora studios, Trondheim, Norway), which they had never done before. Recording sessions took place in March 2020, even if they felt like the material wasn't really ready for recording. This left a lot to improvisation, and so Menneskekollektivet was created in-between set structures and the energy of collective exploration. Perhaps this is what makes Menneskekollektivet unique: The quality of trying something, to see if the structures fit. In a way this is a more physical version of what Hval has been exploring lyrically over the past decade in her solo work. The title is Norwegian and translates to human collective, which adds to the feeling of a recording made as part of a strange, improvised performance project. The music flickers; between club beats and improvised guitar textures; between spoken word and melodic vocal textures; between abstract and harmonic synth lines. Throughout the piece, Volden's guitar and Hval's voice come across as equals, wandering, wondering, meandering. Sharing the space. The writing process began with short, more concise forms, but then Volden brought in experiments with seasick synth loops and drum machines, and the work went off on a longer durational tangent, inspired by chance and intuition. This allowed for an unfinished, raw feel, and the song structures and words were expanded and improvised in the studio. Hval says: "There are lots of late night ideas at work, begun as half-asleep, slack vocal takes on top of something really strange Håvard has sent me. We both record before we know what we're actually doing."

Pekka Laine is leading a double life. There is his daytime persona, a longstanding journalist and maker of award-winning documentary series for radio and television. Then there is the other side to him that comes out at night: the guitar player and DIY-composer. As a driving force of The Hypnomen, a band with a cult following, Laine has explored the world of instrumental music since the 1990s. In his intrepid journeys from primitive noise art to the spheres of soulful psychedelia, he has now reached one important milestone. As a result of a series of unpredictable twists and turns, Pekka Laine’s first solo album was born. The making of the album has been a highly personal journey. It is a declaration of his undying love of the enchanted instrument that is the electric guitar and the cosmic echoes that tie together the primal 1960s space sounds, psychedelia, dub music and weird film soundtracks to form one futuristic continuum. What started as an innocent and unexpected email in last March has turned into a process mentored by Esa Pulliainen, the fearless leader of the legendary band Agents. From his seat behind the mixing console, the guitar legend captured the sound waves and created the right mood. Multi-instrumentalist and producer Toni Liimatta, a serious alchemist in the world of instrumental music, added his invaluable expertise and experience. The spirit during the sessions where Laine’s compositions were transformed from dreamy ideas into reality was free and almost childlike in zeal. No holds were barred and nothing could stop the stream of influences, associations and sounds ricocheting off the studio walls. Joe Meek, electronic space sounds, Spaghetti Westerns, experimental tape music, London, California, Moscow, Jane Birkin, library music, Björn Olsson, Link Wray, early hip hop, the Wrecking Crew, folk, Roy Anderson’s films – there was no end in sight when the party started raving about all things inspiring. The music, however, is authentic. It came straight from the composer’s own head and heart.

Driften is a room that you enter. It holds no space for distractions. It holds no riffs, nor melodies, nor choruses. You enter it.
You close the door behind you. You’re Blindfolded. You’re probably naked too. You’re alone, or with someone dear to you. You’re at your most perceptive (a state only you know how to achieve) You rely on us.
Jenny Wilson is a musician and producer.
Chris Ekvall is a translator of fiction and a singer/guitarist in Octopus Ride

LIMITED 180GM OPAQUE ORANGE VINYL.

BUFFET LUNCH are a Scottish group who make it their mission to craft satisfyingly imperfect pop songs filled with imagery and humour.The group’s elementary parts are Perry O’Bray (Vocals/Keys/Guitar), Neil Robinson (Bass), John Muir (Lead Guitar) & Luke Moran (Drums), united by a shared love of music on the ABBA-to-Beefheart axis.

These four ricochet between Glasgow and Edinburgh, creating music that bristles with DIY spirit and upbeat wonkiness. Their tracks are vigorous excursions, meandering into clattersome terrain as often as hiking up into the breezy, melodious foothills.The desire to lead the listener along a curious tale helps tie things together, showcasing a lyrical playfulness that pins down their puzzle of sound.

Having been an active band for a few years, playing regularly north of the border with like-minds such as Irma Vep, Robert Sotelo and Kaputt, Buffet Lunch spent early 2020 working on the follow-up to their two EPs on Permanent Slump.The fruits from such labour bore out as the band’s debut album ‘ThePower of Rocks’, out may 7th on UpsetTheRhythm.

‘ThePower of Rocks’ was recorded in a Crofters cottage/studio on the banks of Upper Loch Fyne in Argyll, over four nights and five days at the beginning of March 2020, before Covid-19 made itself such an ongoing concern. Back then four people could occupy the same space and make music, lunch and dinner together. Days fell into a pattern of long sessions and long meals.The album came together as a luminous mix of Buffet Lunch’s live chestnuts, some sparky recent songs and some new material entirely written and recorded in situ. All tracks were recorded by Neil Robinson acting as the in-house engineer.

As the seriousness of the virus and talk of national lockdowns developed - there was a feeling of anticipation more than fear in the air, but being holed up in cottage in a wild corner of Scotland surrounded by snowy mountains still took on an apocalyptic feel, albeit an apocalypse where the band were safe and overdubbing vocals. After leaving the cottage, reality (as it must) set in and finishing the album became a more remote task.

Over the following months, an extended period of listening awarded the recordings a deeper realisation, as they bounced between band members computers. Perry also started writing on his Casio keyboard and collaborated on a couple of songs (‘Ten Times’ & ‘Ashley’s New Haircut’) with Jayne Dent (of electronic music project Me Lost Me), drawing on her ethereal singing voice as a counterpoint to his own more ‘spoken’ vocals on the album. These gauzy, dreamlike tracks were then sent to other members of Buffet Lunch to add their respective parts, creating evocative new dimensions to close each half ofthealbum with.

The Power of Rocks’ rattles along like a short-story collection, exploring a variety of narratives. When it comes to the music itself, Perry describes their approach as “see what happens” but admits to a preference for simple synth melodies, plenty of percussion, and prickly guitar-parts. ‘Red Apple’ opens the album with a dizzy swagger, guitars and keyboard notes swirling in forays whilst its lyric tackles notions of social bravado. ‘Orange Peel’ follows equally serpentine with its blattering tune and jagged, yet jolly melodic twists.The themes across the album are wide-ranging and personal, from irritation with out of touch politicians (‘Pebbledash’), to love letters to seaside living (‘Bladderwrack’), to even the frailty and confusion of old age (‘Said Bernie’, ‘It Helps to Know’). Title track ‘ThePower of Rocks’ is an ode to the power of nature sunk within a rolling wave of cheery jangle. “Do you believe in the power of rocks when the sun is too hot on your face?” sings Perry as the song zigzags with consequence. ‘He Wore Two Hats’ sports similarly bop-worthy riffs and addictive nods as it deals with its story of savvy man who’d bitten off more than he could chew.

Buffet Lunch’s debut album accomplishes a lot in its brief 38 minutes. It stuns and startles, intrigues and entwines, drawing the listener further into its characterful world. When asked about any intent posed with this debut record Perry confides that “we hope people can hear the joy the band had making the album and the curiosity and frustration that went into the writing. There was no process or design, but there is detail, and deliberateness in our wish to explore and create.” It’s this attentive focus alongside a keen sense of humour that really sets Buffet Lunch apart, with ideas darting wilfully to and from the poignant truths at hand.

Dalhous end the 5-year silence with the long awaited follow up to 2016's House Number 44, presenting the second volume of The Composite Moods Collection. "Point Blank Range" reinterprets the established narrative with an inverse look at the proceedings. Taking the “point of view of the disease", the perspective is now turned inside out, revealing an alternate account from the eyes of the photographed subject of House Number 44. If Vol.1 was a documented presentation of another person's condition, Vol.2 takes the listener behind the facade.

From the outset, the album offers a narratively uncooperative stance, weaving together layers of anxiety and painful specificity that often overtly manifests the psychotic protagonist's stormy interior state. A clearly subjective assault, which is made evident right from opening track 'Transceivers' through to the imploding nature of 'Intramuscular Administration’, to the vulnerable, psychedelic mania of 'Open As A Glade Unfolding'. Continuing to work within the framework of a soundtrack-like structure, Dalhous ramps things up to provide the aural equivalent of sound and picture, manifesting an almost quasi-visual experience.

The entire record can be listened to as a continuous piece, each track seamlessly linked together as though part of an interconnecting nervous system. Where House Number 44 offered airy, widescreen soundscapes of detached detail, Point Blank Range presents an altogether different form. Creating airtight vacuums of agitated twitching feeling, tracks are pulled to the forefront of the stereo field, continually mutating their densely painted neurochemical hallucinations with a breadth of sound previously unheard on previous releases.

Listeners will be able to decipher nods to long standing soundtrack influences from composers such as Fabio Frizzi, with his use of strikingly bold and haunting melodies, to Tangerine Dream’s distinctively foggy atmospheres of The Keep. There are moments that evoke the nihilistic drones of Brian Gascoigne’s soundtrack to Phase IV, and the more horrific passages of metal clanging ambience from the likes of Chu Ishikawa with his scores for Shinya Tsukamoto.

After their former record label Blackest Ever Black disbanded, Dalhous found themselves out on a limb. It took 5 years to find a new home with Denovali. Given the unusually extended period between records, Dalhous had the time to dive deeper into the material, rendering a level of experimentation previously unavailable to them. Over 4 hours of material was created, a total of 1TB of data. Countless revisions to the track listing ensued with some of the unused material being reutilised in the making of the final chapter in the trilogy to form a direct companion piece.

4LP box set including Angel Olsen’s latest two albums, ‘All
Mirrors’ and ‘Whole New Mess’, as well as an LP of bonus
audio. Also includes 40-page book including photo shoot
outtakes, pictures from the recording of these albums,
handwritten lyrics and items of meaning to Angel.
Originally conceived as a double album, ‘All Mirrors’ and
‘Whole New Mess’ were distinct parts of a larger whole, twin
stars that each expressed something bigger and bolder than
Angel Olsen had ever made. Released in 2019, ‘All Mirrors’
is massive in scope and sound, tracing Olsen’s ascent into
the unknown, to a place of true self-acceptance, no matter
how dark, or difficult, or seemingly lonely. ‘All Mirrors’ is
colossal, moving, dramatic in an Old Hollywood manner.
Recorded before ‘All Mirrors’ but released after, ‘Whole New
Mess’ is the bones and beginnings of the songs that would
rewrite Olsen’s story. This is Angel Olsen in her classic style:
stark solo performances, echoes and open spaces, her voice
both whispered and enormous. ‘All Mirrors’ and ‘Whole New
Mess’ presented the two glorious extremes of an artist who,
in these songs, became new by embracing herself entirely.
Now, with ‘Song of the Lark… And Other Far Memories’,
these twin stars become a constellation with the full extent of
the songs’ iterations: all the alternate takes, B-sides, remixes
and re-imaginings are here, together. Alongside, a 40-page
book collection tells a similar story, not just through outtakes
and unseen photos but through the smaller, evocative
details: handwritten lyrics, a favourite necklace, a beaded
chandelier. As if it could be more plainly stated (there’s
nothing more), Angel adds one cover here: a loving,
assertive rendition of Roxy Music’s ‘More Than This’.
It is a definitive collection, not just of these songs but of their
revelations and their writer, from their simplest origins to their
mightiest realizations.

A decade on from their first record, Iceage continue to harness their lives together through music. This journey, in music and life, has never progressed in a linear fashion. Seek Shelter — Iceage’s fifth LP and first for Mexican Summer — is proof that their lives are still happening through their music, and that they remain determined to harness it. Enrolling Sonic Boom (Pete Kember of Spacemen 3) to produce, Seek Shelter sees Iceage’s propulsive momentum pushing them in new, expansive, ecstatic directions. The sound of an emotional core unwound, Seek Shelter radiates warmth and a profound desire for salvation in a world that’s spinning further and further out of control. In an extraordinary and unexpected run following the release of their debut LP, Iceage went from the fertile hyperlocal Copenhagen scene to stages all over the world. Their recordings reflect their journey: 2012’s You’re Nothing was hard, fast and raw, a bold doubling-down on the aggression of youth in the first record as well as the weight of expectation. Plowing Into the Field of Love (2014) and Beyondless (2018) saw a softening of the band’s hardest edges and the arrival of a certain world-weary vaudeville in the Iceage sound. The band’s past two records — all filtered twangy guitar riffs, sparse piano arrangements, and slinky, slow-moving rhythms — ventured into an intoxicated but knowing swirl, surveying the party at the end of the night. They’d seen it all, at least once, and their music rode the crest of that chaos. Seek Shelter, the band’s first record made with an outside producer, is the place they have been called to next. The LP was recorded at Namouche, a dilapidated wood-paneled Lisbon radio studio of 1960s vintage where the band set up for 12 days. It is the longest time they have spent recording a record. Steady rain dripped through the ceiling; they had to arrange their equipment around puddles and slowly-filling buckets covered in cloth so that the sound of droplets wouldn’t reach the mics. Sonic Boom arranged garden lamps from a nearby party store for mood lighting in the high-ceiling space. A choir, the Lisboa Gospel Collective, joined the band for two tracks on the final day in the studio providing a new scale to Rønnenfelt’s incantations. Singer and primary songwriter Elias Rønnenfelt casts their new producer as a sparring partner, another wayward mind to bounce ideas off of. “We wanted a partner that had some noise that we didn’t have, more a wizard than a producer. “When we started, I think we were just lashing out, completely blindfolded with no idea as to why and how we were doing anything. For Seek Shelter, we had a definite vision of how we wanted the album to be carved out, yet still the end result came as a surprise in terms of where we sonically were able to push our boundaries.” He’s speaking of the new record and also of their entire existence as a band, a travelogue that has catapulted these four friends far past the horizons of punk. “Some of that we wanted to remain intact. We try to keep the mystery. If there's no sense of mystery in it for us, then it's not fun.” Seek Shelter is a record that now exists at a moment of a collective unknown, when every beating heart wonders what will happens next.

On “Skeleton Elevator”, a hair-tingling, spine-popping, ribcage-rattling slab of twisted tundra boogie, Finland’s Cosmo Jones Beat Machine have their bony fingers on the global pulse of underground rock’n’roll, invoking the spirits of Beefheart, the Fall and Funkadelic. Cosmo Jones Beat Machine have a history that spans over two decades and starts in the woods and the wild in eastern Finland. Over the years the band have lived through five album releases, countless lineup changes and furious live appearances around Scandinavia and Europe that have brought the band a minor cult following. Skeleton Elevator is their sixth album altogether and the first in six years. The six years spent in cultivating the album now at hand have further tempered the band’s trademark sound, which is comprised of primitive but captivating rhythms and a terrifying racket. The vocalist Pharaoh Pirttikangas’ trademark raspy delivery, which has deepened over the years, weaves stories dug up from the Mississippi Delta in the pale moonlight and distilled through an eastern Finnish swamp. The new album’s Beefheartian clatter is at times spiced with influences from unexpected directions such as disco (Minimal Brain Dysfunction Generation) and Funkadelic-style space funk (Transformed). The band recorded the bulk of the album during a 24-hour session without sleep, which only adds to the record’s pleasantly unpolished, frantic edge.

Hugh Padgham-produced albums have sold well over 100 million copies worldwide, and gathered over 100 billion streams on digital platforms to date. Despite these stratospheric stats, the multi grammy award-winning producer has not been involved in any new material for well over a decade, and it would always take something ultra-special to pique Hugh's attention enough to get him back into the studio. This new album by Drummer/Composer Graham Costello, co-produced by Padgham and out May 7th on Gearbox Records, is most definitely that. Veering away from solid Jazz and into minimalism, electronics and post rock, Costello builds triumphantly on the foundation he laid down on 'Obelisk', his debut 2019 release which was nominated for the Scottish Album of the Year Award. It garnered much attention from the UK press and further, receiving 5-stars from The Scotsman and strong accolades from the likes of Clash Magazine, who called it ”startling, groundbreaking...it explodes definitions to seize fresh space”. 4 leading singles will drop to dsps in advance of the album street date of May 7th - each chosen to unpeal a little of the multiple layers to be discovered on the full set. 2nd single 'Circularity' (March 10th) hints at Blackstar-era Bowie while calming the soul with its sensuous hypnoticism, while 'Impetu' (April 9th) reveals a dense, lustrous sound bursting with colour, rich in energy, and 'Legion' (April 30th) explodes with muscular force and purpose.

Sci-Fi and library funk specialists Eleven76 return with an otherworldly breakdance double-sider. Their debut album 'Space Voyage' for Warner's music library covered extra-terrestrial spheres and found its way into many films, TV programmes and documentaries. The scarce promo vinyl copies on Mocambo Records are already priced collector's items among DJs. This 45s contains two hot slices of insect-themed outernational grooves with tropical and arabian flavours. Vintage synthesizers and hot tape-recorded drums continue to lead Eleven76's mystique travels through unknown funk territories, all while frenzied percussion-heavy break beats keep b-girls and b-boys moving on the floor.

Goldlettered label & brown paper sleeve.

Before fronting classic post-punk group The Sound, Adrian Borland was a Wimbledon teenager enamored of Iggy Pop and the Velvet Underground. With friends, he formed The Outsiders. In 1976, they home-recorded Calling On Youth, a searching full-length that straddles nihilo-punk argot (“Terminal Case” and “I’m Screwed Up”) as well as smudged glam balladry (“Start Over” and “Weird”). Its release in 1977, on the group’s own Raw Edge label, with Borland’s cityscape abstraction on the cover, marked the first independent punk full-length in the United Kingdom.

The Outsiders, featuring bassist Bob Lawrence and drummer Adrian “Jan” James, were punk in the moment before punk cut ties with solos and five minute songs. (Close Up, released in 1978, is more streamlined.) Like the Saints or Crime, they still trafficked in rock ’n’ roll. Calling On Youth, though, announces Borland as more than a precious teenage bandleader. The nervous introspection, wiry leads and negative space that he would refine solo and in The Sound, Second Layer and Witch Trials glistens throughout Calling On Youth, beckoning rediscovery.

Despite the troubles globally faced in 2020, it's safe to say that The Allergies bucked the trend and came back by ultimately having a rather glorious year. Releasing their fourth stu-dio album, achieving the 'A List' on BBC Radio 6 Music and Radio Eins in Berlin, climbing high in the NACC US college charts, and generally receiving critical acclaim from a world that had an understandable appetite for some joyful and fun music in their lives.

2021 shows no signs of things slowing down. The heat continues for their 2020 album Say The Word with Pioneer, Liptons and IAMS all taking Allergies tracks for their global advertis-ing campaigns. Rather than rest on their laurels, though, the guys went full lockdown crea-tive and have their fifth album due for release in September, 2021.

"Jumping Off" was the first new track from the album to be debuted at the end of 2020 – A self-sampling version of their 2018 track "Main Event". As with all Allergies tracks of late, the limited 7" release caused a Discogs feeding frenzy.

Now, The Allergies power forward with the first single of the 2021 album campaign – An absolute dancefloor destroyer featuring legend of the mic, Dynamite MC, entitled "Lean On You".

The Allergies first hooked up with Dyna on previous album Say The Word for the fan favour-ite "Hot Sensation". But, scheduling clashes with Dynamite's own album release meant that a single outing for that track was not possible.

No such issues this time round means The Allergies kick off their 2021 album with a serious club and radio contender to move things to the next level.

It's a stylistic new lane for the Bristol-based beatmakers. Their trademark heavy drum chops now flowing on half time tempos, with blues guitars riffs front and centre. The perfect back-ing, then, for the UK rap legend to find his theme and raise the roof.

The 7" is backed by "Working On Me" – A classic Allergies-style screamer with a taste of funky swamp rock, updated for your favourite dancefloor/kitchen/outside space, with five other people…