quête:euphony

The mystery continues to deepen, as you hear whispers beckoning you out to the sea...

After refining their dark and seductive vision of alternative/gothic metal to surreal, cinematic levels with three EPs and a full-length album, The Cause of Shipwreck, behind them, the Assen-based Blackbriar continue to set their sails towards the future in 2023, signing with Nuclear Blast Records and working towards their second full-length album, again accompanied by long-time collaborator Joost van den Broek.

Formed in 2012 by Zora Cock, René Boxem, Bart Winters, and Frank Akkerman, they crafted their first single in 2014 with “Ready to Kill,” but it was 2015’s second single “Until Eternity” that truly propelled them into the scene. A sweeping track with an equally compelling and beautiful video, it continues to draw many to the act with over 18.1 million views since its debut. Taking advantage of the growing buzz surrounding the band, they independently recorded and released their first EP, Fractured Fairytales, as well as acquiring a second guitarist in Robin Koezen. This EP layed down an impressive foundation for the band’s ethereal and breathtaking sound and brought about new opportunities for the act, including tour dates in The Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, France, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Hungary, and more, where the band played alongside Epica, Halestorm, In This Moment, Delain and MaYan. To keep moving ahead with full control of their creative ideals, the band successfully crowdfunded their follow-up EP, We’d Rather Burn, and brought it to life in October 2018. This EP would be the first time the band worked alongside esteemed producer Joost van den Broek to arrange and produce the effort, and this fruitful collaboration allowed Blackbriar’s whimsical and enigmatic sound to reach new sonic heights. Released the same day as their self-made video for “I’d Rather Burn,” this EP showcased a stronger sense of dreamy atmosphere and brought listeners beautifully grim tales of witches, banshees, and sea sirens. In the time following, keyboardist Ruben Wijga (ex-Re-Vamp) took a larger role within the band and began playing shows, after being involved in the songwriting process since Fractured Fairytales.

A busy 2019 followed, the band released a haunting single in May entitled “Snow White and Rose Red.” A duet with Ulli Perhonen, their take on the Grimm’s fairytale featured striking cinematic visuals to accompany the spellbinding track. Continuing to dig deeper into fairytale realms, Blackbriar closed the year with their third EP, Our Mortal Remains. Ever-sharpening their intoxicating blend of storytelling and breathtaking musicianship, the EP brought about new live exposures for the act as well. Small, sold out tours with Epica in 2019 and 2020, as well as a sold out opening for Delain’s Apocalypse & Chill release show in Utrecht followed, with more future plans then being put on hold due to COVID-19. Championing their continued independence, which included everything from songwriting, maintaining their web presence, overseeing merch, as well as shooting and producing their own videos and photos, Blackbriar reached out to their ever-growing and loyal fanbase for assistance to make their full-length album a reality in 2020. Fans fervently heeded the call, reaching the € 25,000 goal in under 24 hours and ending with a total of € 70,000 and achieving all five stretch goals. An impressive accomplishment for an independent act, which also showcases a strong internet presence with over 214,000 YouTube subscribers and 46.1 million channel views as well as 27.6 million Spotify streams and 150,000 monthly streamers on the platform.

Following his collaboration with Al Storm, Euphony brings his decades of skill and experience to a slightly more underground, but equally powerful EP. Every track on this one is a winner, from the bouncing madness of Hardy Party to the more subtle but equally devastating 8990, this EP is four tracks of perfection!

Black Truffle is pleased to present Radis, the first recording by the Oslo-based trio of Andrea Giordano (voice and organetto), Kalle Moberg (accordion) and Jo David Meyer Lysne (guitar and snare drum). Now based in Norway, Giordano is a native of Cuneo, in the Piedmont region in the north-west of Italy and her exploration of the Piedmontese language provides the starting point and conceptual anchor of the trio improvisations heard on Radis, which make use of the words of 20th century Piedmontese poets Nino Costa, Bianca Dorato and Oreste Gallina. As the musicians explain, the project is an attempt to preserve the beauty and singularity of a language at risk of extinction.

Fittingly, the first sound we hear on the opening piece ‘Fiorìa’ is Giordano’s unaccompanied voice. She sings a poem from Oreste Gallina as a kind of floating cadenza, the accompanying silence sensitizing the listener to the pellucid quality of Giordano’s voice and the unique sound of the Piedmontese language. The voice dies away and into the silence swells a single tone, sounded by Moberg’s accordion and—special guest on this opening piece—the alto saxophone of Mario Gabola. Extended techniques and preparations create unexpected timbres from the acoustic instruments: Gabola’s saxophone is augmented with tin cans and springs and Moberg’s unorthodox techniques allow the accordion to generate wheezing, buzzing textures and patterns of microtonal beating. Giordano’s voice returns, picking up the thread of the languorous opening melody, coexisting for a while with the shifting drone before the piece takes an unexpected yet organic left-turn into a delicate saxophone solo of sorts.

Recorded in several locations across Italy and Norway over the course of three years, Radis documents an ensemble who have developed both a distinctive sound-world and a remarkably sensitive group dynamic. Moving from folkish duets between accordion and Giordano’s organetto (the small accordion used in Italian folk music) to episodes of metallic guitar scraping from Meyer Lysne, the music is both quietly contemplative and gently chaotic. Ensemble roles shift with disarming ease. If on ‘Profij dëspers’ Meyer Lysne’s prepared guitar adds a haywire noise element to a lyrical episode of organetto and accordion, the next piece, ‘D’antorn a lor’, is grounded in chiming guitar chords of stunning beauty; once Giordano’s joins, the result calls up the most spacious moments of Maria Monti’s Il Bestiario. Throughout the seven pieces, the trio explore countless possibilities of group interaction and the margin between conventional euphony and pure abstraction: at times the voice floats against silence or seems almost disconnected from the gentle clatter of the instruments (sometimes reminiscent of Nikiforas Rotas’ haunting settings of Cavafy), while at other points the instruments touch on conventional harmonic accompaniment. What is perhaps most striking of all is the way that voice and instruments relate to each other, the extended technique reframing the voice as a kind of abstract sound object, while the melodic beauty of Giordano’s voice lends a contemplative, almost melancholic air to the wheezing and scraping of accordion and guitar.

Captured in gorgeously intimate recordings, Jim O’Rourke’s careful and beautifully spacious mix highlights the wealth of textural detail in each element. Accompanied by notes, session photos and the text of the Piedmontese poems, Radis is a work of stunning beauty that demonstrates the vitality of exploratory music in Norway today.

For his sixth solo album, Ezéchiel Pailhès returns with a new collection of songs infused by a sunny wandering spirit.
Within each of the twelve songs on SOL is a thread of melancholic happiness that has permeated much of Pailhès’ music and songwriting. He addresses love, the passing of time, hope, lost illusions, fleeting moments of grace, the temptation of forgetting, a need to escape, and desire. All this is
insulated by understated orchestrations that blend acoustic and electronic instrumentation with deft confidence.
The Portuguese and Brazilian concept of saudade—a form of melancholic longing and nostalgia— pervades, thanks in part to Pailhès decision to record the album in Rio de Janiero and to reinterpret some of the finest works of Música Popular Brasileira (MPB). In particular, he revisits a handful of
lesser known classics from the mid-century samba and bossa nova era—originally written or performed by talents including Vinícius de Moraes, João Gilberto, Tom Zé, Dorival Caymmi, João Donato, Os Tincoãs, and Ataulfo Alves.
The shift from Brazilian Portuguese to French and the decision to adapt rather than perform a straightforward cover versions, allows Pailhès to invent a form of prosody and euphony (the musicality and harmonious combination of words) that feels vibrant and unlike anything else in today’s French
chanson landscape.
“Some lyrics are simple translations from Portuguese, in what I’d call an expanded version. For others, I started from a single word or a single phrase and embroidered an entirely new text that carried me elsewhere,” explains Pailhès. “I allowed myself great interpretive freedom, while preserving the humanist dimension of the original songs. I’ve always been deeply moved by the way Brazilians transfigure reality through heightened emotion. I love this visceral and spontaneous country, which always seems to live through emotion. And above all, I love its music both popular and unifying,
bringing together all social classes. In that sense, it’s very political music, but even more so utopian, made by the people and for the people.”
On this new album, however, the French artist was keen to avoid cliché. Each song is therefore built around a carefully balanced interplay between Pailhès’ piano and synthesizers, alongside restrained arrangements of percussion, brass, bass, and cavaquinho (a small four-string plucked guitar). These parts were recorded in Rio de Janeiro with two musicians who regularly perform alongside the legendary Caetano Veloso—Kainã Do Jêje and Alberto Continentino—joined by Thomas Harres, Antônio Neves, Eduardo Neves, and Gabriel Loddo.
Since the 1960s, France and Brazil have shared a long-standing cultural and musical relationship. Some Brazilian artists, most famously Gilberto Gil, took refuge in France during the dictatorship years (1964–1985). But above all, French chanson quickly fell in love with the richness and ingenuity of
bossa nova and samba, translating and reinventing them in the language of Molière. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, albums and hits by Henri Salvador, Georges Moustaki, Pierre Barouh, Pierre Vassiliu, and Claude Nougaro all drew from the MPB repertoire.
Fifty years later, with SOL, Ezéchiel Pailhès reinvents this rich Franco-Brazilian musical legacy, bringing to it a personality and modernity that stand confidently alongside those of his forbears.

Syncretic marks the debut full-length from Australian duo Bhairavi Raman, a Western and Carnatic violinist, and Nanthesh Sivarajah, a mridangam player and versatile percussionist. Both artists share a Tamil heritage, a current that hums across the album. Raman, from South India, and Sivarajah, from Sri Lanka, draw lines that connect Western practice and Carnatic tradition. This hybrid is central to Raman’s approach as a violinist, an instrument itself caught between East and West since the late 18th century. Her playing folds history, lineage and experimentation into music that acknowledges inheritance while gently rewiring its circuitry.

Expanding on traditional music can be a precarious practice, but Syncretic never feels heavy-handed. Raman and Sivarajah exercise measured restraint, letting the Carnatic framework breathe even as it is refracted through contemporary tools. Delays, looping, subtle layering and synthesized harmonies tilt tradition into a new light without disguising it.

Even within a contemporary framework, Raman’s rigorous Carnatic training under gurus Sri S. Varadarajan (India), Sri Murali Kumar (Australia) and Sri Gopinath Iyer (Australia) is unmistakable. She captures the spiritual and emotional essence of each raga: on Seven, the playful raga Bahudari becomes both centrepiece and conduit, while on the traditional piece Thunbam Nergayil, drawn from a Tamil poem, we hear a deeply personal iteration, a weeping euphony of mixed emotions hitting all at once. Tradition here is absorbed, expanded and reframed.

Sivarajah’s command of the mridangam, honed by his gurus Sri Jambunathan (Sri Lanka), Sri Balasri Rasiah (Australia) and Sri T. R. Sundaresan (India), is central to his original composition Guardian. He sustains tradition while extending it through layering and sound-spatialisation. The mridangam here functions as both a structural and ornamental force, mapping continuity between inherited form and contemporary sonic architecture.

Syncretic resonates as a space where Tamil heritage, diasporic memory and contemporary practice coalesce. Culture, like sound, circulates, transforms and persists. Tradition is not an archive but living material, a soundworld that lingers in the ears and the imagination.

12 brand new, exclusively signed '92-93 oldskool hardcore style tracks to Rave Radio Records. It's authentic, and the genuine article when it comes to the true ruff style of the early 90's hardcore rave production. If you like mixing on the edgier side of hardcore, this is a release you'll want in your collection!\uc0\u8232 \u8232 Ruff Hardcore music from: Try Unity, Al Storm & Euphony, Billy Daniel Bunter & Sanxion, Secret Squirrel, Pete Cannon, Z-Neo, Jack Smooth, Liquid Crystal, Tim Reaper, Radicall, Stu Chapman & Blackmass Plastics and the sleeve artwork is by Aroe.

This is a very special 10", part of a series where some old friends take some old work and make it even older! Nick from Smart Es, aka "Bang", is responsible for a huge number of undisputed classics from the late 90's and early 2000's, and he is long time friends with both Al Storm, and Luna-C / Cru-l-t. So between the three of them, they have decided to do a series of remixes where they take some of the classic Bang tunes and roll them back in time to the early 90s, giving them a vintage feel for the modern day...and they started with possibly the biggest of them all...Shooting Star!

The X-Static classic "Free" gets a remix work out with this EP. Each remixer brings their own style to the project, making for a diverse and exciting release.

Vinyl Junkie and Sanxion bring a mid 90's feel to their remix, making the older styled track into something that would have mixed with Kniteforce, Hectic and Impact back in the day. Meanwhile, Amaretto brings his classy old skool sound to his remix, with ice clean production and perfect execution. Al Storm and Euphony lean into their Bad Onion sound, a mixture of 1992 vibes and modern production, while Innercore does what only Innercore can do, giving his remix both a classic and brand new sound.

Reissue of seminal 1992 Bodysnatch cut ‘Euphony (Kuff Mix)’, later released as ‘Just 4 U London’. Accompanied by two more Bodysnatch back catalogue highlights from 1992 – ‘Eyes On The Horizon’ and ‘The Strength (Mental Rapids)’. All three tracks have been remastered with love and care by Johanz Westerman from the original recordings and selected for reissue by Parts Unknown and Craigie Knowes.

Multidisciplinary artist Lyra Pramuk - producer, composer, vocalist, performance artist and astrologer - shares her sophomore album Hymnal: an earthy, raw and psychedelic burst of euphony for our collective healing. Classically trained and deeply inspired by Berlin"s club culture, Lyra has garnered critical acclaim for her vocal virtuosity and original, genre-fluid sound rooted in experimental vocals, instrumental composition and left-field electronics.

Multidisciplinary artist Lyra Pramuk - producer, composer, vocalist, performance artist and astrologer - shares her sophomore album Hymnal: an earthy, raw and psychedelic burst of euphony for our collective healing. Classically trained and deeply inspired by Berlin"s club culture, Lyra has garnered critical acclaim for her vocal virtuosity and original, genre-fluid sound rooted in experimental vocals, instrumental composition and left-field electronics.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The second part in Shan’s warehouse series delivers more of the same – but that’s definitely a great thing, if the dish has a great taste. Like it’s successful predecessor, the tracks don’t re-invent the wheel, but cater to all the nameless spaces and places that made raving in defiant and derelict places fun. There is house that sounds like techno (Elevate) and vice versa. Seasoned with break beats (89 Swing or the Future Sound of London-esque Euphony) or breaks for love (Uplift My Spirit) and even dub sirens, it is almost impossible not to find something to suit the customer’s environment. The main focus of attention might be the jack of all trades called Phantazia. Wouldn’t have sounded out of place at the entertainment series of the same name, it melts proto hardcore harmonics with Soul II Soul type of strings and immediate call for „the action“. And as we all know, that always speaks louder than words.

A1 - Blue Sky
Opening with a clean, DJ-friendly Hot Pants break, Blue Sky offers the listener a subtle, warming production with inquisitive synth work creeping around a fine selection of serene effects, panning excitedly across a pristine, polished field. Utilising light orchestral strings, a soft undertone bassline and wistful twilight sounds, Aural Imbalance blends danceable breakbeats with the soothing sounds of yesteryear as fluidly as ever.
A2 - Starburst
Starburst jumps straight into a tight, energetic beat pattern constructed with old school breaks and an off-key bassline, soon joined by eerie, spectral pads to gradually build an ethereal, other-worldly vibe. The composition is elevated by arising symphony of swirling blippy melodies, expressing a nervy and curious tone with detail and harmony before the beat recedes, allowing the melodies to shine alone in the dreamy outro.
AA1 - Frozen Tears
Aural Imbalance conjures a quietly grandiose track with Frozen Tears, driven by muffled keys and thick hi-hats in the intro before a luscious, meditative melody enters the mix. Intricate breakbeats with a suitably understated bassline accompany the fading and echoing synthetic strings, rich pads and subtle bells, producing a beautifully varied spectrum of sound, perfect for the Spatial record box.
AA2 - Moonlit Clouds
A distinctive, impeccably produced Helicopter break takes center stage with Moonlit Clouds, a deftly relaxing ambient aura floating overhead as synths and knowing melodies slowly weave their way into your psyche like shimmering fireflies seizing the moment in the dark. A low sub bassline permeates the depths to complete a collage of euphony to round off another special EP from Aural Imbalance.

Words by Chris Hayes Spatial/Red Mist

After her album with producer High John on MPM in 2019 and collaborations with agajon, Àbáse, KUOKO, Cap Kendricks and Move 78, soul singer douniah returns with her debut solo project!

douniah imparts her debut solo project "A Lot, Not Too Much" to an unexpecting audience. Thoughtfully, the singer-songwriter invites us to embark on our own saviour. The collection of songs is steeped in artistic and emotional integrity. Production was ledand executed by Dhanya Langer, one half of band project Modha, and producer of JujuRogers' 2019 album "40 Acres N Sum Mula". Written amid the pandemic, this piece is aneffort of immense proportions - experimenting with her sound in time, wading through spirals of arduous personal challenges. 'A first impression of how my journey sounds.'Agadir-born and Hamburg-raised, douniah engages in the practice of interpreting herspirit, impressively, in German, Darija and English. We find here, a body of work that threads together the tenets of free-form poetry and romanticism, backdropped by neo-experimental jazz tendencies. In euphony, a worldly array of instruments act insymbiosis to carry us through "A Lot, Not Too Much". douniah's voice is one to fall into; her message is enunciated with every word, delivered delicately with an inventory ofriffs and ranged tone. The utilisation of choppy, note-like, freestyles bridges the EP's strong singles, into a rhapsodic whole.

In the late '70s, The Avengers established themselves as one of the US's preeminent punk bands. Fusing incisive guitar hooks, explosive rhythms and adolescent venom, the group forged some of the most in-your-face songs of the era. Their live shows were legendary, playing up and down the West Coast and even blowing Sex Pistols off the stage at the latter's final performance.

As Byron Coley writes in the liner notes, "Of the best bands of San Francisco's first wave in 1977, The Avengers were by far the coolest and youngest sounding. They roared without irony, as though this were indeed Year Zero (and, for a moment, it was) with history being overwritten by the new. The honesty of their belief was carried by their sound. And it was convincing!"

Originally released in 1983, four years after the band's dissolution, The Avengers' self-titled LP is often referred to as "The Pink Album" for its magenta-hued cover design. Frontwoman Penelope Houston's iconic voice and razor-sharp lyrics resonate on anthems "We Are The One" and "The American In Me," while penetrating ballads like "Corpus Christi" reveal a truly out-of-body euphony.

The Pink Album remains The Avengers' definitive statement - collecting their classic Dangerhouse EP, sessions recorded with the Pistols' Steve Jones and a half-dozen revelatory demos. While much has been written about The Avengers in the past three decades, rock critic Greil Marcus puts it succinctly, "The word I always come back to is mystical, and that remains almost theirs alone."

The fact that ATLASES from Finland sound different has its reasons. Besides the "normal instrumentation" of a metal band, the musicians from Pori also work with electronic drum pads and keyboards. Both are not just additional accessories, but an integral part of the musical self-image of this Nordic group. In addition, there is the creative demand to go further aesthetically and sonically than is usual in modern post-metal. In the cinematic soundscapes ATLASES are creating you can lose yourself completely. The third album "Between The Day & I" pushes this approach to the extreme. The dualism of beautiful, atmospheric euphony and abrupt brute force works fantastically and provides lasting impressions. The sextet from Pori sets tension arcs time and again, which lead deeper and deeper into a maelstrom of rapture, melancholy and emotional discharge. On the follow-up to their 2020 LIFEFORCE RECORDS debut, "Woe Portrait", ATLASES present themselves as resourceful songwriters who cultivate powerful contrasts beyond the usual conventions of post-metal and thus stand out. With "Between The Day & I", the Finns prove that modern post-metal can still be developed further, if the right attitude and the necessary daring meet forward-thinking creativity and an elevated level of ambition. The fact that the cover motif of the new ATLASES album evokes associations in the direction of the Mastodon classic "Remission" or "White Pony" of the mighty Deftones is a coincidence, but on closer reflection it fits pretty well.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

HARDCORE UPROAR* over 80 of the freshest Hardcore Anthems from 3 of the biggest brands in the hardcore / hard dance scene written especially for this Brand New Compilation series, going back to the original ‘Bonkers’ style mixed CD format, featuring Uproar Creator, and one of the biggest names in Hardcore History DJ Seduction alongside 24/7’s owner / creator Al Storm, Rob IYF (one of the biggest new talents to come through the Hardcore scene) showcasing the latest 24/7 Hard Dance / Hardcore project ‘Voodoo Panda’ and 2 Rave Legends DJ Stompy & Darren Tyler (Bananaman / Silk Cuts / JHAL etc / Fade & Bananaman etc) join forces with Eazyvibe for a 28 track feast of happiness

Featuring Fresh Dubs from artists such as, Scott Brown, Bang!, Al Storm, Rob IYF, DJ Seduction, Darren Tyler, Alaguan, Chris Fear, Euphony, DJ Stompy, UFO, FREQ-DLT, Eazyvibe, AK47, Fracus & Darwin, M-Project, Daniel Seven, MKN, Hartshorn, EZKill, Bananaman and more.

Burning Saviours doom-monger spreads his wings into the northern darkness with his new project Heathen Rites. Heaving earthy Doom, inspired by nordic folklore and ancient landscapes, Heritage is an epic and melodic hymn to northern nature and history. Formed in Sweden in 2018 by Mikael Monks, Heathen Rites create A-level, brooding, lingering, godless doom perfection, that swells from ornamental euphony to rousing, up-tempo doom rock with a Scandinavian flair. Lovers of nostalgic proto-metal, funeral doom and blues Americana will revel in the dark folk setting of Heritage, where tone-full riffs echo across the hoof-thundering wilderness. Beautiful droning passages and punishing sermons to please fans of classics like Candlemass and Pentagram but with a decidedly modern nordic folk-horror flavour. Dig into Heritage and discover your dark and gloomy roots.

Dick Verdult, a.k.a Dick el Demasiado is the Philip K. Dick of multi-disciplinary art, the Moby Dick of “cumbia lunática”, and the Charles Dickens of literature and experimental cinema. He first fell in love with cumbia when he heard his nursemaid singing the classic “La pollera colorá”. From this moment on, he adopted the genre and reinvented it, in a perpetual degeneration called Cumbia Lunática, twisting up the elements of traditional cumbia, the “cumbia of the mucamas”, to create an anarchotropical vertebral rhythm, one which supports every moving part.

Celulitis Illuminati is the powerful debut of the anarchotropical gentleman knight of the abstract, Dick el Demasiado, eight dangerous tracks recorded for the first time on vinyl, songs that, upon listening, will liposuck all that grotesque accumulation of adipose tissue out of buttocks and brain. They interweave an amalgam of South American folklore and the cables of electronic music, the plugged-in Ranqueles indians, as in “Asi Que Los Que Sí” (“So That Those Who Yes”) on Side A, surrealist and lugubrious beats, poetry made song and “the dead man’s drool is good for painting watercolors”, as he sings in “Búho Sin Un Ratón” (“Owl With No Mouse”).Euphony that will abduct you away to a viscous street party with “Son Cosas De Hoy” (“They’re Things For Today”) and to an eclectic and excessive dimension with “pero bien bweno” (“but very proper”).

Side B is pure dynamite: “Mecha flan” (“Pudding Fuse”), “Sábado cultural” (“Cultural Saturday”) and “En la jeta” (“In the face”) represent the perfect blend of Lucho Argain (La Sonora Dinamita) and Muslimgauze (Bryn Jones). On top of this, the album includes an as-yet unheard gem, “Llama Mi Abogado” (“Call My Lawyer”), produced by Dick himself and Manuel Schaller, the telepathic mage of the Theremin. When the Dutchman stepped off the boat and onto the block, as well as offering us the TV set, the sculpture of a deranged English woman who devours islands like they were sandwiches, the synthesizer, the sound effect, the African drum, the maraca, the indigenous whistle, he obtained for us the song and the stanza, he provided us with the language and the poetry, the truthful, the epic of the ugly. Cellulite for mortals, cumbia lunática for the enlightened ones! Alfredo Padilla (Trans. Komurki)

Dekmantel regular Matrixxman returns with the third, and final instalment in the Sector series, Part III: Polyphony. In this triptych, the producer from San Fransisco sets out to highlight the key components behind the sounds and style of techno, exploring the range within the confines of a particular limitation. Following Parts I and II, which looked at Rhythm, and Acid, Charles McCloud Duff charters the realm of Polyphony with four, meticulously produced techno tracks, expanding his repertoire of cult, dancefloor music.Polyphony refers to the simultaneous combining of many notes in a musical sequence. In electronic music, this specifically refers to the role of the synthesiser - such as the Minimoog, ARP Odyssey, which can produce different pitches simultaneously. Polyphony has been an integral characteristic of the genre's sound for over a quarter of a century, and can be heard in many key records, living a the sonic forefront of these four tracks. 'Sector Series: III Polyphony' provides an exercise in melody and polyphony. Throughout the EP, swaggering rhythms are inter-washed with a sea of multi-melodious, reverberated notation. 'Initiation' resonates with the grandiosity, and harsh claustrophobia of early Underground Resistance. 'Access Granted', drives hard with pulsing effects, with a dystopic, rhythmic cacophony of euphony. 'Desert Planet' plays around with a differing tempo, imagining a more fantastical vision of music, echoing back to earlier Plastikman productions, using a vast sonic spectrum to conjure up a colour palette of alien imagery. 'Horizon' rounds things off; a track that builds on minimalism with a progressive composition, allowing the polyphonics to drive the track, harnessing the adept production qualities that Matrixxman has come to be recognised for.