quête:feels

3x12"

Extraordinary musical talent returns with a deeply textured third outing on Blu Mar Ten Music.

Having made serious waves with the release of his debut album "Coeur Calme" in 2014 and the incredible 2016 follow up album "Zawadi", Kimyan Law steers his sound in a darker, more introspective direction with the twelve heavily themed set-pieces of his new album, "Yonda".

The album title, "Yonda", homophonically flits between a location in Kimyan Law's native Congo and definitions of something situated at a distance but still visible, foreshadowing the artist's move away from his typical uplifting palette into less playful territory.

While previous work seemed to be a personal exploration of joy-tinged melancholy, "Yonda", feels much more sober and pensive, infected with external events. In conversation with Kimyan Law the artist described one piece ("Krieg") as his "portrait of war", with the music moving through phases of violence, silence, panic, redemption and peace. Ever the allegorist, Kimyan Law relates themes of conflict and war not just to obvious geopolitics but also to his own physical struggles, and even an obsessive battle with the music itself, ("Yonda" has been more than three years in the making). In 2017 the artist wrote, "I've reached a point where I couldn't sleep because it bothered me so much... I have found myself unable to make any music except for Krieg".

An accomplished drummer in his own right, Kimyan Law's intricate rhythmic sensibility is the lifeblood that runs throughout the album, incorporating ever more outlandish sources of percussion recorded from his natural surroundings and filtered through technology.

"Yonda's opener, "Jaardin", is deceptively gentle, with off-kilter rhythms and pianos providing fertile ground for Elyn's delicate singing before the whole piece careens off into what can only be described as orchestral proto-jungle territory. It soon becomes apparent that this placid introduction is misleading, with subsequent tracks fluctuating between pounding tribal beats ("Arboreal Epitone" / "Kin"), chilling orchestration ("Byo" / "Krieg") and rehabilitated jungle forms ("Seven Ant Foley"). A constant mix of light and dark, futuristic yet primitive atmosphere hangs over the album, with waves of luscious synths and deeply musical string arrangements lovingly cloaked over the razor-sharp drum work.

Unusual conceptual themes litter "Yonda"; "Dor Rhythm" is about a Dung Beetle's journey, "Lampion" is about paper lanterns, "Nova" is about plant growth while "Kilele" is a song about peace, featuring Kimyan Law's own vocals in a new language he created himself, conjuring memories of Cocteau Twin's Liz Fraser.

While "Yonda" contains moments of incontestable beauty it can often be a difficult listen, an illustration of an anxious mind yearning for peace. An obsessive and intricate musician, Kimyan Law's use of African percussion, finely honed polyrhythmic patterns and celestial sprinklings of keys melded with slabs of sub-bass power and sheer energy makes for an intoxicating listen. As ever, Kimyan Law has delivered a profoundly serious piece of work that expands the vocabulary of his genre. Despite the darkness saturating the work, a soft light still breaks through the window. It is the east, and Kimyan Law is the sun.

Constructed in the initial chaos of the pandemic, Baby Blue’s dystopian debut LP “End Of Sleep” finds solace in the unearthly home of Planet Euphorique. 7 offerings from the Canadian artiste dive deep into a heightened reflective state; an amalgamation of memories stitched together via looped dissonance and destruction. A contrast of lightness and dark constantly working against each other and at times in harmony; a familiar connection that can be found in complex electronic music and mental states alike. Strap in and be guided through a wormhole of cyber analog journeys, thematic explorations and catastrophic calls to celestial beings.

Ethereal echoes of LSG break in the opening of the record, fleeting cries nodding to ancestry; yet A Rainy Trip To Netherworld Sequence embraces the storm. Knee jerk kick distortions disrupt the angelic hypnosis; reality rolling through the clouds. The sequential energy continues through A2 and A3, driving and rolling viciously with heavy contorted noise infiltrating the low end whilst flickers of melodious song sail unbothered, thriving amongst the destruction. The Spring Is Coming feels like a seasonal change, a melting and defrosting; thawed harmony shining through; textural and flowing with movement, a perfect bridge.
An arguably more delicate chaos emerges on the B side, elongated pads stream endlessly whilst drums cultivate and expand into sudden frisson. Fragile voices begin to gate and sweep in Equal Parts Damaged, lingering and ringing through ear drums whilst glued in rhythmic unison to induce a state of floating, a game of elevated push and pull. Syncopated howls of distortion leads the closing track, Violet summarizing the brilliantly confronting conversations pulsating through the record.

PE016 urges you to join the otherworldly personal journey and sufferings of Baby Blue, a moment to connect with her meditative dreams and struggles; sonic synergy expanding to anyone with the invitation to surrender.

The debut LP from duo Sunflower Aquarium offers a full spectrum bloom into the electronic ecosystem. Dylan Batelic (Paper-Cuts) and Thomas Martin (Furious Frank) fuse together for a 7 track collection of low-slung immersive deepness, embodying a cycle of life via the ebbs and flows of sonic seasonal evolution. A collaboration of cyber synthesis; written simultaneously Melbourne through Adelaide during late 2021, the result a refined yet spontaneous take on dubbed downtempo through to driving dance deviance.

Beginning with a birth, the stand alone Intro’s saturated glow cultivates a vivid timbre and sun kissed sub-stratosphere. Sprouting melodic constructions continue to blossom throughout the record and growing pains are welcomed with open arms, a mature moodiness brooding delicately through assured drums and fleeting Janet vocal fragments. Broken beat patterns group together and tessellate, the woven sunken bass leaves space for flickering hi hat fissure in SA-124, this groove based atmospheric momentum evolving cohesively track after track. Bright, refined concepts that linger and dissolve in your subconscious for weeks. The B Side preserves the introspective tip but dives deeper, faster; Birds Of Paradise melting organic field recordings into blissful synth voices and ricochet breaks. Bubble (Contagious Mix) feels like a midnight highway dub drive, shooting and gliding fluently; coloured lights iridescently blurred as if it was all a dream... then the closing track, which induces a sharp sense of hypnosis. Traditional techno expressions flirt with your ears, layers of repetition locked and loaded, dwindling into the abyss; conclusion of the cycle.

Rhythm Rhyme Revolution are back with another cracking double A side 45 - sounding even more seasoned than the trilogy of exemplary albums that they have released.

A side: ‘SupaDupaStank’ has the interweaving sax of Jake Telfson and the majestic mouth organ of multi-instrumentalist Gareth Tasker erupting through the layers of the groove ridden arrangement like consistent currents of electricity, highly charged and full of energy. Barrie Sharpe and Betty Steeles add their vocal interjections towards the end in a glorious kind of marginal coherence. It reminds me of the prime of Eric Burdon’s War.

B side: ‘Deal With It’ is an outstanding piece of music. Surprisingly Jazzy - rarely heard of within Sharpe’s musical repertoire. The slinky vocals of Betty Steeles add a sweeter dimension to the overall sound. This one is more hard-hitting and moody - with Gareth’s simmering bass over a slow burning groove. All tied together with Jakes jazz sax lick throughout the track. The words of Emrys Baird (Blues & Soul)
Sharpe and co are essentially reasserting how masterly group improvisation rooted in intent social commentary feels fresh and at times provocative. They consistently release subtle groove inflected dance music of the highest order and show no signs of letting up. (The words of Emrys Baird – ‘Blues & Soul’)

Loraine James' new ambient-minded alias, Whatever The Weather, follows her 2021 solo LP Reflection (Hyperdub). In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she'd ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as "free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done," allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment - the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at "25°C," a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James' proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, "0°C," its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout "17°C." Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. "2°C (Intermittent Rain)" ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side's opener, "10°C." The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. "4°C" and "30°C" display the range of James' vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones' Chino Moreno and American Football's Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at "36°C," while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

The artistic oeuvre of Berlin-based Sonja Deffner is as extensive and diverse as its contexts are high-profile: If the classically trained musician could in recent years be heard as a member of the groups Jason & Theodor, Die Heiterkeit, Globus and PTTRNS, as part of Christiane Rösinger's touring band, or as a recording musician on Andreas Spechtl's (Ja, Panik) albums, she has at the same time produced an acclaimed graphic work, video works and made her theater debut. Under the name Kalme, Deffner now presents her solo debut »Neue Sprache«, which feels like a culmination: Deffner doesn't need much space to present an artistic position of spectacular incisiveness and maturity.

The formal language of Kalme's debut evolves with reference to experimental pop and R&B, but equally informed by ambient electronics or dub techno. Analog and digital sound synthesis meet Deffner's characteristic use of field recordings, acoustic instrumentation (clarinet, percussion) meets musical post-production, sampling meets expressive synthesizer playing. At the center of the album, however, are Deffner's remarkable lyrics, written in German for the first time. Deffner creates a language of stark, emotional poignancy that is as conspiratorial as it is precise. The themes of the tracks develop between the poles of movement and stagnation, understood as motifs of biographical as well as musical ways of being or relating. In this forcefield, personal and political considerations coincide again and again, for example when Deffner reflects on her experiences with the social conditioning of femininity and motherhood.

The album title »Neue Sprache« (»New Language«), then, describes a search for forms of articulation of solidarization: language as a tool of a new relationship to the world that allows testimony to individual experience without reproducing categories of repression. In this way, Kalme's debut simultaneously achieves a radical intimacy, just as, on the other hand, the confrontation of language and sound repeatedly opens up fissures that deny any semblance of comfort. »Neue Sprache« does not stop at this modernist gesture, however, but unquestionably takes a stand. That's what Kalme's »Neue Sprache« ultimately is: the taking of a position. A statement.

Seabear return with a new album. After a hiatus of 12 years - the bands most 'recent' LP dates back to 2010 - the much loved Icelandic collective presents »In Another Life«, a mesmerizing collection of songs, oscillating between indie pop and classic singer-songwriter material.

Sometimes, a long break is all it takes. Seabear, the band featuring the talents of Guðbjörg Hlín Guðmundsdóttir, Halldór Ragnarsson, Kjartan Bragi Bjarnason, Örn Ingi Ágústsson, Sindri Már Sigfússon (aka Sin Fang) and Sóley Stefánsdóttir (aka Sóley), did exactly that. Producing an album takes up a lot of energy. You do promotion, you tour quite a bit and afterwards you... well, you just do different things. "We had all focussed on other projects", Kjartan Bragi explains. "Solo careers, playing with other projects, other forms of art, working 'normal' jobs to make a living etc. It's nice to finally come together again with old friends and make music." During the break, music has been an integral part of the members’ daily lives. Sóley started a remarkable solo career (she just released her fourth solo-album), as did Sindri, under the name of Sin Fang, while Guðbjörg worked with Sigur Rós. However, all this was made possible by the disarming folk music of their 2007 debut LP »The Ghost That Carried Us Away«.

"We stayed in touch all along", adds Sindri. "During dinners etc. one question came up again and again: What would Seabear sound like today? After accomplishing so much together, we were indeed thinking a lot about the past, how it all began. This is what sparked the reunion and is also reflected in the lyrics, resurrecting our youth, hopes and dreams."

Now, in 2022, the band is ready to set a mark in the musical landscape once again – with 11 new songs coming straight from the heart, aimed at all who value emotions, the warmth and intimacy of songwriting, big yet subtle soundscapes, capturing the smallest tones and feelings.

"We have all matured on our different paths apart. It's exciting to make something new", says Kjartan. "We are 6 friends coming together again 10 years later to make songs and have fun doing it. We are now in a more relaxed environment to compose the music."

The songs on »In Another Life« sound and come across like a musical diary of sorts. A diary found by accident, split across 11 records, without any further info and all details scratched out. There is just the music to speak for itself. Even if you are familiar with Seabear's previous music: the opener »Parade« will make you wonder who came up with this wonderful tune, full of assuring harmonies, delicate melodies and compositional surprises. Seabear once more are delivering the perfect soundtrack for all kinds of emotional states. With driving yet subtle drums, intimate, yet fleeting vocals and lyrics, an orchestral sense of production, emphasizing small details rather than counting on the big "studio bang". An approach which came naturally: "The album reflects our relaxed attitude when it comes to recording and exchanging ideas."

»In Another Life« indeed feels like the start of a new chapter. Full of hope. And hopefully, all Seabear fans won't have to wait as long anymore in the future.

Produced by Moccio and recorded in solitude at his home studio, Lionheart continues the intensely intimate narrative begun on his acclaimed album Tales of Solace (released in 2020). “I created both these albums because I very much needed to, on a personal level,” says Moccio, who hails from Canada but lives in L.A.’s Laurel Canyon. “With Tales of Solace I was dealing with necessary cathartic changes in my life. However, this album feels much more positive, like a rebirth.” Written in the throes of quarantine, Lionheart channels that sense of renewal by way of finespun melodies that Moccio describes as introspective

Loraine James' new ambient-minded alias, Whatever The Weather, follows her 2021 solo LP Reflection (Hyperdub). In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she'd ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as "free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done," allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment - the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at "25°C," a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James' proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, "0°C," its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout "17°C." Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. "2°C (Intermittent Rain)" ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side's opener, "10°C." The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. "4°C" and "30°C" display the range of James' vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones' Chino Moreno and American Football's Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at "36°C," while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

Pareidolia Recordings is glad to present for her seventh chapter the first 2xLP "Electro Became Electro", a labyrinth where the deepest nuances of the electro blend togheter.
Seven artists, seven different ways of feels, interpreting and conceiving this genre, seven innovative minds.

The electro music without spaces and borders.

"We’ve reached book IV in Rupert Clervaux’s series of “Zibaldone” audio diaries, at which point we find him telling a different kind of story.

“The first three all had very specific themes, while this one feels a little bit looser and doesn’t have just one thematic thrust,” he tells me, which maybe explains why listening feels a bit like annotating. I’m underlining, emphasizing, drawing arrows from here to there, highlighting symbols and noting motifs, realising, questioning, eureka-ing. An impressionistic meaning’s been encoded in and we’re lucky to be given the space to play that most poetic and boundless of all mental games: narrativization.

There are no wrong answers, but Rupert offers some clues either way. If there’s any cipher here it’s “something like a meditation on the concept of ‘depth’––in all its connotative forms.” Think below the surface, (the) underground, yawning oceans, being ‘down in the dirt’, soil, roots, rootlessness, pulling at the dregs, collapse, profundity, stable and unstable horizons, distance, perspective, intuition, not to mention relative opposites: to be shallow, to be above, to be beyond.

It’s got me thinking of Bresson’s “Bring things together that have as yet never been brought together and did not seem predisposed to be so.” His: “Dig deep where you are. Don't slip off elsewhere.” Rupert has realized these—two favourite goals of mine!—here.

This is music that catches you at your own periphery, gives pause, has you offering a little “huh” to, asking “I wonder why” to. Again, it’s got me musing on another mindworm, this time from New York publisher and multi-sensory reading room Dispersed Holdings: “Feeling-making-knowing feedback loop; cartography of feeling; water as text, read to know the land beneath and around it, and body as reader.”

Is it ok to offer up these other contexts out of context? I think so, because Zibaldone IV articulates a similarly swirly tone. Like, we’ve got Rebecca Solnit talking through Kropotkin’s “Mutual Aid” and later calling out to Michael Ruppert a ways away, and “Easy Rider” is playing in the wings. We’ve got Susan Sontag magically contextualizing Mariah Carey with poet Thylias Moss triangulating in order to sketch out (Rupert again) “something a little more interesting than wilful eclecticism or that laboured and patronising kind of pop-savvy.”

Are we following? Whether yes or no Vanessa Bedoret follows on with a performance of a performance of Moss’s 'Water Road’: to be once or twice removed, via strange transitions, purposeful confusions, and, suddenly, seagulls. We’re on a boat with Ingeborg Bachmann—and how I wish I could actually be! But maybe thanks to this music I can as literature, films, friends, lethargy, coincidences, little mental links, eternal wormholes, lingering notions come together to imagine something better."

Text by Natalia Panzer

Interior sounds from Madalyn in an album that flits between eerie ambience, environment, and hermetic logic. The music’s timing and sequencing feels distant, the elegant constructions conjured and organised semi-consciously, drawing the listener deeper into the dream and towards a zone where watch hands tick forward accurately and their perception of time unspools. Here each neatly tuned conversation and clockwork assemblage harmonises, spinning tantalisingly just out of range and understanding.

“Puzzle Music is the desire to create images out of diverse pieces of sound. To collect timbral colours in a gradient procession and connect them until they create reason. Principally not knowing how the image will turn out, or what the picture even is. It is the act of placing sound shapes next to one another in the hope that clarity will gradually be revealed.

When grouping the songs together I was thinking of them as mechanisms in a timepiece. I have something of an obsession with Swiss watchmaking, although I think this stems from a desire for creative mastery and the design of an energy source independent of electronic needs. Hopefully the songs all serve a purpose towards the end goal of the album... but also, the way the Oberheim Xpander pans sounds is in a very clear circular pattern, which makes me think of gears turning.”

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There is geological time and deep-space time. The natural world's time, and quantum time. Humans started measuring time with the stars and seasons. Then came hourglasses and sundials. The first mechanical clocks weren't in Europe until the late 13th century. Then came industrial time, a wristwatch for all and then everything had a time. A time for everything. All feeding into our recently digitised time and its marching nanoseconds. Let us not forget however another way to measure time: That would be K&D time.
Yes, you can rush, but isn't it so much nicer to amble? This onception of time may well have its roots in those smoke mists, softly blowing through the pre-history of 1995, and if that was time - then we need space. In particular, one Viennese front room that has turned its bass bins out to the cosmos. That sweet smoke, shrouding the desk and sampler. A few old keyboards (as a friend skins up at the back) unnoticed on the couch - just passing through...
Those days of K&D time had been thought to have gone. But one of times tricks is to hide itself in music. Not long ago (after a box of DATs had been found, and a DAT player prised back into service) back through the music wormhole our heroes fell into that smoke laden room of 1995. The remix time hadn't arrived nor the intense touring schedule. It was before the K&D sessions release and all that came with it, before the solo projects of the Peace Orchestra and Tosca. This was a time before all of that. A time for literally living in the studio and experiencing the joy of creating tune after tune. Just the sound and the smoke and no boundaries.
It was before people started asking about when the album was coming out. Which developed its own time specific answers. The 90s answer was soon, 00s answer was not sure and then: never! from 2010 onwards. The truth was, an album had been finished by the spring of '95 and all recorded onto DAT and placed in a box. K&D pressed up 10 copies and gave 4 away to some suitably eccentric individuals. Then the room's doors opened and in a tremendously big cloud of smoke time rushed in, K&D rushed out, and the years went rolling by. The days got filled with remixes, touring and life.
Then in early 2020 that chance moving of a box at the back of a room exposed the DATs and their time transporting properties. As K&D went through them they ended up comfortable and back in the room and that wonderful haze of 1995. The music was transferred from the DATs and K&D painstakingly rebuilt every molecule that made up the original 10 copies. From the very first takes of the mixes printed onto tape, to the solid slab of black virgin vinyl, to the abused by many plays, white cover. Even down to the labels that says "'Unverkäufliche Musterplatte" (Testpressing - Not For Sale) in rather rude German.
It now looks, feels and sounds pretty much exactly the same as those original 10 copies did in 1995. The only thing that couldn't be don is the original clouds of smoke those 10 copies were bathed in. That will be left to the listener to wrap it in the fresh harvest of 2020. In one way it's a musical time warp space travel. In another, if the music becomes classic and timeless, then it's of its time, whatever the time. So as the rooms bass bins are once again turned out towards the cosmos, K&D are happy and proud to release what they thought were lost moments. Drop through the worm hole, take your place on the couch. The friend who is skinning up, always just passing through, listening to an album for the future called 1995. It all makes sense if you measure in K&D time.

With Plum, the songwriting partnership rooted in the creative rapport between bandleader Molly Hamilton and guitarist Robert Earl Thomas continues to expand on shared visions, delving deeper into what was always there: dusty guitars, ear-worm melodies, warm expansive arrangements. Each entry to their catalog has marked a subtle reimagining of Widowspeak's sound, though perennial points of reference remain the same: 90's dream pop, 60's psych rock, a certain unshakeable Pacific-Northwestness. Speaking to the timeless feeling of each, the albums continue to be discovered well beyond their respective PR cycles, made beloved by new listeners through word of mouth. The band's fifth album feels comfortable and lived-in: humble in structure, heavy on mood. Perhaps that came taking time off from the touring grind, instead working full-time jobs and settling into the rhythm of daily life in a small upstate New York town. Plum was recorded over a handful of weekends last winter by Sam Evian (Cass McCombs, Kazu Makino, Hannah Cohen) at his Flying Cloud studio in the Catskills, and was mixed by Ali Chant (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding, Perfume Genius). In addition to Hamilton (vocals, guitar) and Thomas (guitars, bass, synth), it features instrumental contributions by Andy Weaver (drums), Michael Hess (piano), and Sam himself (bass, synth). Plum nestles into the band's canon like it was always there, but with new textures coming to the fore, like the polyrhythmic pulse of "Amy" and "The Good Ones", or the watery, Terry Riley-influenced track "Jeanie" Plum navigates the spaces between the lesser emotions of modern life. Hamilton's lyrics speak to the unique turmoil of anyone who creates as their work, who must somehow survive off such "fruits of their labor." Yet, Widowspeak have always made a bitter pill much easier to swallow. The majestic "Breadwinner", the luminous "Even True Love" - these songs here were made to be listened to, enjoyed. "Money" is particularly hypnotic, built around a repeating, cyclical motif that serves as both skeleton and body. "Will you get back what you put in?" Hamilton asks over an insistent guitar riff. The line is delivered with a knowingness that transcends its surface critiques of late-stage capitalism, asking both herself and the listener whether this is, in fact, the world we want to live in. Through Plum, Widowspeak have brought something into the world that seems to know its own worth, even as it wonders aloud about what is to come. What value and meaning do we assign ourselves, our time, and how do we spend it?

Truls Morck has a background as a guitarist in Graveyard and Slowgoldas well as guitarist, singer and songwriter in Den Stora Vilan

In 2015 he released his first solo album and shortly thereafter he returned to Graveyard, this time as bass player. After a few years of waiting, it's finally time for his second solo LP; "What A Time To Be Alive". The sound is inspired by the soft rock of the 70's and you can hear echoes of Harry Nilsson and George
Harrison mixed with dreamy digital keyboards and a modern, relaxed, psychedelic
production."We have tried to create a soft and easy- to- listen- to sound that
somehow still feels interesting and well-made. My lyrics are probably quite selfabsorbed and introspective. The naive and honest I can read between the lines in
rock history's simpler poetry, inspires me", Truls says.

Single LP w/ printed inner sleeve + DL. Sophomore solo album from Emma Ruth Rundle, (Marriages (Lead Vocals/Guitar) and Red Sparowes (Guitar)). “…a sophomore effort of Cat Power-like tenderness and PJ Harvey-level intensity” The Fader / "...a sort of old-souled wisdom, conjuring the vastness of a sea." – Pitchfork // Emma Ruth Rundle’s 2nd solo album, Marked for Death, mines feelings of loss, defeat, heartache and self-destructiveness to emerge with the most honest and compelling accomplishment of an already prolific career. She shapes vast, evocative landscapes of sound, combining them with lyrics of devastating candor. Self-determination and resiliency, disguised in this case as coming to terms with overwhelming defeat, are key aspects of her personality. Transforming pain into works of great beauty makes her the compelling artist she is. A more adventurous production than her solo debut Some Heavy Ocean (2014, Sargent House), the eight compositions on Marked for Death, helmed by engineer/co-producer Sonny DiPerri, emphasize dynamics and vocal melodies, variable tuning, and a dense layering and texturing of guitars. Nevertheless, fear and self-doubt linger in the shadows of Rundle’s mind, providing an incessant counterpoint to her ambitious talent and sultry, albeit de-emphasized, allure. Exemplified by the candid, unglamorous cover portrait, Marked For Death takes a persuasive argument for its creator’s utter helplessness in the shadow of defeat. And through a potent dose of dark, hypnotic rock every bit as satisfying as her work with Marriages and Red Sparowes, Marked for Death’s most resonant element is Emma Ruth Rundle herself, settling in to her role as singer/songwriter. Her rich voice, alternately jostled and cradled by the sounds conjured from her guitar, feels more present, perhaps even more deliberate, than ever before. // UK publicity Silver PR - Early press support/features already confirmed with Pitchfork, The Fader, The Independent, Interview, VISIONS, Music Radar, New Noise, BBC and MUCH more tbc.

Back in May 2019, Vancouver trio Corner Boys released their sole album… and promptly split a few months later. In retrospect, they couldn’t have known that the album’s title (‘Waiting For 2020’) would soon seem grimly ironic - and we all know why, right? No reason to go over all that shit again. But while the past two years have at least seen drummer/songwriter Patrick McEachnie staying active across two essential records with hardcore heroes Chain Whip, lockdown saw him switching roles. Basically, he bought a guitar and made an excellent record all on his lonesome, and as followers of his other projects will have come to expect, it’s fucking excellent. ‘Glad To Be Forgotten’ is the debut album by Pack Rat - in some ways you can see some level of crossover with Corner Boys in its manic energy and dedication to hooks (cuts like ‘Next Time Hit Me’ and ‘My Own Reality’ are so damn catchy, you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve already been listening to ‘em on repeat for the past 20 years). Familiar reference points show up (the melodies of the Pointed Sticks; the garage-slanted rifferama of Rudi or The Undertones) while a tinny budget synth keeps things ticking along nicely, just to remind you that this is a homespun DIY project. But honestly, this has the feel of a fully fleshed-out project and leaves you desperate for another fix of its sweet’n’sour tang. For anyone who loves the collision point between ‘New Rose’, powerpop sunshine and sheer rock’n’roll exuberance, this is essential. For everyone else, this is surely the gateway to all of that good stuff. You want to hear the tunes that’ll star on future generations’ equivalents to the Killed By Death comps? That’ll set your pulse soaring and your pogo muscles into overdrive? That’ll remind you of why this punk rock business still feels worth dedicating your life to, even after all this time? Hey, Pack Rat’s got ‘em. Now do your part

It begins with a rustle of noise, equally reminiscent of distorted factory noise and a cassette recording of cathedral bells unspooling, before a near-robotic beat and stuttering bassline enter the fray. Initially, you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve stumbled across the lost tapes of Joy Division’s early Warsaw incarnation, but the atonal blast of strafing guitars fading in and out soon make you realise this is a very different proposition. This is The Drin, and ‘Engines Sing for the Pale Moon’ is their debut album. It’s also one of the best things you’ll hear all year. Helmed by Dylan McCartney, drummer of the rock band Vacation, The Drin originally released this album as a hyper-limited cassette via Future Shock. It’s as much of a departure from McCartney’s usual output as it is for Drunken Sailor Records; songs don’t so much explode out of the gate as drift towards you like a creeping fog that turns your skin inside-out and leaves you sloshing organs all across the carpet. Second track ‘Guillotine Blade’ shows the pieces all coming together, a dubbed-out riot of claustrophobic noise that feels like Pere Ubu trapped in a cupboard one minute, and ‘Warm Jets’-era Eno trying on Bauhaus’ trenchcoats the next. Meanwhile, ‘Down Her Cheek A Party Tear’ unfolds across jittering, skittering rustles of drums and an undulating bassline, making you wonder why post-millennial post-punk so often settles for dickheads shouting non-sequiturs over landfill indie, when it could be entering these dark, unsettling territories instead. The Drin like to get weird. The Drin like to get wild. The Drin rarely cut loose, but that’s because the trip is already intense and haunting enough without things getting raucous in here as well. Hey kids, turn off those shite band name redacted records and get into this; you deserve so much better, and better’s right here. Fall into it, immerse yourself and step forward into a brave new world. I love this record