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The true test of originality for any musician comes when you hear an instrument being played and you instantly know who’s playing it. For electric guitarists, certainly Hendrix qualifies; Page and Clapton, too. Maybe Eddie Van Halen before the legion of imitators. You probably have your own list, but to us, standing toe-to-toe (or pick-to-pick) with those legends is Television guitarist and solo artist Tom Verlaine. His self-taught, jazz-influenced style, largely devoid of effects, and vibrato tone (oh, that tone!) makes any Verlaine solo unmistakably a Verlaine solo. That he was quite an accomplished, idiosyncratic songwriter is just a bonus. Real Gone Music is very, very proud to announce that we have arranged with the Verlaine estate to release Tom’s last three solo albums on LP; Songs and Other Things was the last record he released, in the same year (2006) as the all-instrumental Around. As the title indicates, this was indeed a return to lyrics and vocals, the first record with “songs” since 1990’s The Wonder (although the first track, “A Parade in Littleton”—one of the “Other Things”—is a low-key, funky instrumental that would have been home on a late Talking Heads album). The time off clearly allowed Verlaine to build up a strong cache of compositions, with “Nice Actress” and “The Earth Is in the Sky” among the highlights. The record also marks a welcome return of Verlaine’s enigmatic lyrics, which as always prompt head scratching while somehow making intuitive sense. But in the end, it’s the amazing guitar work—ably supported by Fred Smith of Television fame and Jay Dee Daugherty of The Patti Smith Group among others—that elevates Songs and Other Things to essential status, worthy of its exalted position as the final release of Tom Verlaine’s career. Bassist and original engineer Patrick Derivaz has mastered the album for its vinyl debut; Verlaine’s long-time partner Jutta Koether contributes notes. Teal vinyl pressing!

Maurizio 'Angus' Bidoli's brilliant 'Diary Of Dreams' was issued in 1998 as a very limited CD only release given to friends and colleagues. It has never been re-issued, and therefore this is its’ first ever appearance on vinyl and official CD. Angus is a native of Rome, and has played guitar with many bands, most notably the Italian metal outfit Fingernails. However, his love for the trippier, Hendrix-inspired psych jamming has manifested itself in several solo projects, and this is a great example of that. Angus plays all the instruments on this outing, and it's his wonderful guitar playing that comes to the fore. Blue Matter are genuinely thrilled to be able to make this great album available for the first time in 25 years. We've been fans of Angus since we met him at a gig in Rome in the early 90s, and he gave us a cassette of some of his solo psych jamming. To share his talent with other like-minded souls is something we’ve wanted to do all that time, and finally we’ve been able to put out one of his projects. We truly hope you enjoy it.

Tuff Trax and Jay Ward are two of the most potent producers in the UKG scene right now and they both appear together in collaborative mode on this new EP for Rhythm N Vibe, which also happens to be their tenth outing. It's pure filth from the off with 'Higher' sure to get the gun fingers out and the fists pumping. 'Something Like This' is a more raw and percussive garage bumper with sleazy low ends and naughty bass, then 'Crazy' gets funky with some nice retro r&b vocal samples and warm chords surging through the mix. 'Give Me Love' shuts down in soulful fashion with great colour bursting out of the beats.

Saxophonist and composer Wayne Escoffery reflects on love, loss, and solitude on his stunning new album, an atmospheric and haunting mood piece, Alone, featuring a remarkable all-star quartet with pianist Gerald Clayton, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Carl Allen. In the summer of 2023, saxophonist and composer Wayne Escoffery found himself alone in a way that he’d never quite experienced before. He was away from home, on sabbatical in Europe with a month to himself between tours. A long-term relationship had just ended, and he was confronted with the loss of friendships that he’d once valued. Worst of all, he’d suffered a broken finger that left him unable to play the saxophone for the first time since he’d picked up the horn in high school. “Normally, my coping mechanism would be the saxophone,” Escoffery laments. “But even that wasn't available to me for about nine weeks, so I just had to be alone in my thoughts.” He made good use of this alone time, conceptualizing the music that makes up his striking and singular new album. What emerged from that solitude was an extended mood piece, a workunique in Escoffery’s typically wide-ranging catalog for its sustained atmosphere of stark melancholy and searching introspection. Alone was conceived during a time of isolation, heartbreak, regret, and reflection, but the experience of the album is far richer even than that. In the end, “I was forced to reflect on life and what was most important to me,” Escoffery concludes. “The concept of this album grew out of that reflection.”

Southern California shoegaze squad Cold Gawd return to Dais for their second and most supreme suite yet of crushing downer bliss: I’ll Drown On This Earth. From the defiant scream that kicks off opening cut “Gorgeous,” the album rips in what singer and principal songwriter Matthew Wainwright describes as “go for it” mode: holding back nothing, wasting no time. Although the bulk of the songs were written in 2022, recording sessions weren’t booked until March of 2024, which allowed ample time to refine and distill the music’s hooks, heaviness, and haze. The result is a perfect storm of distortion and dream pop, cracked love songs cloaked in swooning walls of noise.

Recorded at Paradise Recorders in Anaheim, California with Colin Knight (of post-punk unit Object of Affection), Wainwright tracked the strings while Cameron Fonacier handled drums. The process was efficient and effective, sharpened by years of performance. Anthemic headbangers like “Portland,” “All My Life, My Heart Has Yearned For A Thing I Cannot Name,” and “Malibu Beach House” sound as dynamic as they do dialled-in, soaked into the bones of the players. The lyrics camelast, written by Wainwright a week before recording. Moods of surreality (“I can hear the blood in my fingers / nothing tunes out / the world’s too loud”), infatuation (“I will follow / everywhere you go / any way to feel / how you glow”), and melancholy (“God kept me around / for no good reason”) flicker and fade within a fog of memory and reverb.

Southern California shoegaze squad Cold Gawd return to Dais for their second and most supreme suite yet of crushing downer bliss: I’ll Drown On This Earth. From the defiant scream that kicks off opening cut “Gorgeous,” the album rips in what singer and principal songwriter Matthew Wainwright describes as “go for it” mode: holding back nothing, wasting no time. Although the bulk of the songs were written in 2022, recording sessions weren’t booked until March of 2024, which allowed ample time to refine and distill the music’s hooks, heaviness, and haze. The result is a perfect storm of distortion and dream pop, cracked love songs cloaked in swooning walls of noise.

Recorded at Paradise Recorders in Anaheim, California with Colin Knight (of post-punk unit Object of Affection), Wainwright tracked the strings while Cameron Fonacier handled drums. The process was efficient and effective, sharpened by years of performance. Anthemic headbangers like “Portland,” “All My Life, My Heart Has Yearned For A Thing I Cannot Name,” and “Malibu Beach House” sound as dynamic as they do dialled-in, soaked into the bones of the players. The lyrics camelast, written by Wainwright a week before recording. Moods of surreality (“I can hear the blood in my fingers / nothing tunes out / the world’s too loud”), infatuation (“I will follow / everywhere you go / any way to feel / how you glow”), and melancholy (“God kept me around / for no good reason”) flicker and fade within a fog of memory and reverb.

2024 Repress

140g schwarzes Vinyl, mit Spot UV-Sleeve, 2LP 45rpm. Das beste Post-Rock-Album aller Zeiten" - Fact Mag // ,Ihr Einfluss ist allgegenwärtig` - The Quietus // ,Mysteriös, eindringlich und atemberaubend visionär` - Allmusic // Bark Psychosis waren eine der innovativsten Bands ihrer Zeit und der Legende nach wurde der Begriff ,Post-Rock` erstmals von Musikkritiker Simon Reynolds verwendet. Nach mehreren Singles und EPs erschienen die avantgardistischen, auf Drones und Samples basierenden Klanglandschaften des 21-minütigen Titeltracks ,Scum" nur zwei Jahre vor ihrem bahnbrechenden Debüt ,Hex" (1994). Ihr Sound entstand aus ihren Improvisationen in einem provisorischen Studio in der St John's Church in Stratford. Die Fertigstellung von ,Hex" dauerte ein Jahr und brachte die Band an den Rand des Zusammenbruchs, so dass sie sich zum Zeitpunkt der Veröffentlichung bereits aufgelöst hatte. Indem sie ihre Songs zerlegten und im Studio neu zusammensetzten, entstanden charakteristische Ambient-Soundscapes und ein atmosphärischer, experimenteller Sound. Letztes Jahr hat das Fact Magazine das Album verdientermaßen auf den ersten Platz der ,30 Best Post-Rock Albums Of All Time" gesetzt. Neu gemastert im Jahr 2017 von den originalen analogen Bändern in den Metropolis Studios von Graham Sutton und Stuart Hawkes.

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

Zusammen mit Bands wie Hans-A-Plast und Der Moderne Man gehören Rotzkotz Anfang der 80er zum Umfeld von No Fun Records, einem hannoverschen Label aus der linksalternativen Szene. Zunächst spielen sie klassischen Punk-Sound, den sie auf ihrem zweiten Album um elektronische Sounds und teils dadaistisch anmutende Texte ergänzen: Mit Lebensfroh + Farbenfroh veröffentlichen sie so 1981 eines der spannendsten Alben der alternativen deutschsprachigen Musik der 80er Jahre. Gute 40 Jahre später wird das Album jetzt inklusive der zwei Songs der "Kein Problem"-Single (ein kurzer Ausflug zum Major EMI) wiederveröffentlicht - neu gemastert und ergänzt um ausführliche Linernotes sowie bisher unveröffentlichtes Bildmaterial. Zwischen Punk und Avantgarde, zwischen elektronischen Sounds und digitaler Dystopie, zwischen Majorlabel-Deal und No Fun Records, zwischen 70ern und 80ern - Rotzkotz sitzen zwischen allen denkbaren Stühlen und schaffen es dabei, mit Farbenfroh + Lebensfroh ihre Nische auf eine auch heute noch außergewöhnliche Art zu besetzen.

"Heile Heile Boches" erschien 1989, im Jahr des Mauerfalls. International gab es zwar Hip Hop, Crossover, Hardcore und Alternative-Punk; in Deutschland lediglich deren Simulation oder Imitation, und außer einem inzwischen längst redundanten, wenn auch unverwüstlichen Deutsch-Punk nur wenig, das in der Musik als Bollwerk gegen den neu aufkeimenden Nationalstolz hätte dienen können. Aber es gab die Kolossale Jugend. Seit jeher am reingrätschen, nerven, ständig sich austauschend, vorantreibend und völlig immun gegen Versuche der Politik, Wirtschaft und Volksgemeinschaft sie für die heraufbeschworene Pop Nation Deutschland zu vereinnahmen. Schicksalsjahre einer Kaiserin: die Wendezeit.

In the night, the cadenced orientation of the strobe lights sketches geometric trajectories in the dark room. The icy condensation from the cocktail glass drips onto her fingers, caresses her nail polish, grazes the side slit of her evening dress, and evaporates before it touches the floor, the dance floor.

Her body, that of a femme fatale, stands between the clenched bodies of the dance floor. A beam of light pierces the darkness. It illuminates a Mediterranean chest – stronger than the bridle imposed by the buttons of his shirt – adorned with golden necklaces: symbols of faith turned into instruments of seduction. Sin is the antechamber to holiness.

She turns around, that’s him: Marcelo. She had long heard about him. Their gazes, perfect diagonals, get locked in the crowd. A cheeky smile reveals a golden tooth, the lights a shrouded sex bursting forth. His wink is a magnet. Often, words are a mere formality. Let’s make out.

Que rico.
Que lindo.
Te quiero.

Nein, man kann wahrlich nicht behaupten, dass GIMP FIST eine "Pechtsträhne" - so der Titel ihres 11. Albums "Losing Streak" übersetzt - seit ihrer Gründung 2005 haben, jedenfalls was ihre Musik und den Banderfolg betrifft. Die Welt da draußen allerdings scheint in diesen Tagen von Krieg, Hass, Rassismus, sozialem Elend oder dem profitgeilen Raubbau unseres Lebensraums nicht gerade rosige Zukunftsaussichten zu haben. Die 15 neuen Songs auf "Losing Streak" widmen sich dieser traurigen Entwicklung in all ihren Facetten aus der Sicht der englischen Arbeiterklasse. "Who's gonna help to get this country right on track?" (Born and raised) "Losing Streak" strotzt nur so vor Leidenschaft, Emotionen und purer Energie und ist noch einen Tick temporeicher als die beiden Vorgänger. Keine Verschnauffspause, kein um den heißen Brei herumreden, sondern direkt mit dem Finger in die Wunde der verlogenen Politik und ihrer gesplitteten Gesellschaft: "Whatever happened to our community in todays society?" (Community) Resignation ist dabei nicht das Rezept. Die Zeit ist reif die Dinge beim Namen zu nennen, den Blendern an der Macht die Stirn zu bieten und sich auf die Stärken zu besinnen: "Hey politicians you devils in disguise, we want stop until we see the "Whites in your eyes" Auch vor der eigenen Szene macht die Band dabei nicht halt mit einer aggressiven Kampfansage anr die right wing-community: This is our scene and we're taking it back. The sound of the streets for white and for black" ("Less English") Der mitreißende, oldschool UK Skinhead-RocknRoll & Streetpunk Sound verbunden mit treffsicheren Lyrics von Gimp Fist ist authentisch und überzeugt dabei mit jedem Akkord und jeder Note! Die Wut ist spürbar! Wie auch bei den vorherigen Alben liefert Gimp Fist mit ihrem einzigartigen Gespür für Ausnahme-Songs verlässlich wie der Zeiger von Big Ben ein Album, das von Anfang bis Ende überzeugt! Es ist nur "more pissed and angry" geworden! Zurecht und genau zur richtigen Zeit!

Nein, man kann wahrlich nicht behaupten, dass GIMP FIST eine "Pechtsträhne" - so der Titel ihres 11. Albums "Losing Streak" übersetzt - seit ihrer Gründung 2005 haben, jedenfalls was ihre Musik und den Banderfolg betrifft. Die Welt da draußen allerdings scheint in diesen Tagen von Krieg, Hass, Rassismus, sozialem Elend oder dem profitgeilen Raubbau unseres Lebensraums nicht gerade rosige Zukunftsaussichten zu haben. Die 15 neuen Songs auf "Losing Streak" widmen sich dieser traurigen Entwicklung in all ihren Facetten aus der Sicht der englischen Arbeiterklasse. "Who's gonna help to get this country right on track?" (Born and raised) "Losing Streak" strotzt nur so vor Leidenschaft, Emotionen und purer Energie und ist noch einen Tick temporeicher als die beiden Vorgänger. Keine Verschnauffspause, kein um den heißen Brei herumreden, sondern direkt mit dem Finger in die Wunde der verlogenen Politik und ihrer gesplitteten Gesellschaft: "Whatever happened to our community in todays society?" (Community) Resignation ist dabei nicht das Rezept. Die Zeit ist reif die Dinge beim Namen zu nennen, den Blendern an der Macht die Stirn zu bieten und sich auf die Stärken zu besinnen: "Hey politicians you devils in disguise, we want stop until we see the "Whites in your eyes" Auch vor der eigenen Szene macht die Band dabei nicht halt mit einer aggressiven Kampfansage anr die right wing-community: This is our scene and we're taking it back. The sound of the streets for white and for black" ("Less English") Der mitreißende, oldschool UK Skinhead-RocknRoll & Streetpunk Sound verbunden mit treffsicheren Lyrics von Gimp Fist ist authentisch und überzeugt dabei mit jedem Akkord und jeder Note! Die Wut ist spürbar! Wie auch bei den vorherigen Alben liefert Gimp Fist mit ihrem einzigartigen Gespür für Ausnahme-Songs verlässlich wie der Zeiger von Big Ben ein Album, das von Anfang bis Ende überzeugt! Es ist nur "more pissed and angry" geworden! Zurecht und genau zur richtigen Zeit!

Erstes umfassendes Archivprojekt für The Police, welches erweiterte, mehrformatige Wiederveröffentlichungen enthält. Dazu enthält das Projekt bisher unveröffentlichtes Bonusmaterial, neue Linernotes und Interviews, sowie seltene Archiv-Memorabilien und Fotos.
Alle Tracks wurden direkt von den Originalbändern durch Audio-Remastering in den Abbey Road Studios
neu bearbeitet