quête:finger

Bečva is a river located in the Eastern part of Czech Republic. In September 2020, several chemical leaks into the river caused the poisoning and subsequent death of 40 tons of wildlife in the waterway – an unprecedented catastrophe. Growing up in Přerov, Bečva was an ever-present part of Tomáš Niesner's youth and this environmental disaster affected him deeply. In an effort to understand the river better and inspired by Werner Herzog's 'Of Walking in Ice', Niesner set out on a journey from the spring of Bečva to its confluence with river Morava, a journey of over 100km. It was a romantic quest in wholly unromantic circumstances, an attempt to expiate the irreversible.

Bečvou, the album, is a travelogue of sorts, an aural chronicle of this journey. Arranged and composed around field recordings from the river banks, it also features Tomáš Niesner on guitar, zither and modular synthesizer, unlike many of his previous releases where he'd zero in on one instrument. Combining elements of fingerstyle guitar, musique concrete and drone, it's an elemental tapestry of enveloping textures, shimmering guitar motifs and soaring synth sounds. At one moment reminiscent of the meandering improvisations of East of the Valley Blues, at others calling to mind the ecstatic minimalistic compositions of Caterina Barbieri and oscillating between moods like dread and hope thoughout, Bečvou is Tomáš Niesner's most complete statement to date, fascinating in both concept and execution.

Marroon coloured vinyl.

1st pressing on Maroon coloured vinyl. Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Tape

1st pressing on Maroon coloured vinyl. Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Back in print for the first time this century, first time for tip-on jacket, the definitive edition remastered from the original tapes.Meeting at the halfway point between Bleach and Damaged, Unwound's 1995 self-titled album arrived years after the original trio of Vern Rumsey, Justin Trosper, and Brandt Sandeno made their Avast Studios debut. Compiling their EPs for Kill Rock Stars and Gravity Records with five more session outtakes, Unwound was released on Rumsey's Punk In My Vitamins as the band began flirting with the mainstream. Witness a band's prehistory as it plays out in a feral maelstrom of screaming, distortion, feedback, and abrasive promise.

Back in print for the first time this century, first time for tip-on jacket, the definitive edition remastered from the original tapes.Meeting at the halfway point between Bleach and Damaged, Unwound's 1995 self-titled album arrived years after the original trio of Vern Rumsey, Justin Trosper, and Brandt Sandeno made their Avast Studios debut. Compiling their EPs for Kill Rock Stars and Gravity Records with five more session outtakes, Unwound was released on Rumsey's Punk In My Vitamins as the band began flirting with the mainstream. Witness a band's prehistory as it plays out in a feral maelstrom of screaming, distortion, feedback, and abrasive promise.

Mark Grusane's latest offering, A House of My Own is a testament to his long-standing discipleship to the craft of producing hard-hitting house tracks with authenticity and depth. The title-bearing opener on A1 strongly demonstrates this notion with a slew of raw bass stabs and emotive pads leading through a battery of driven percussion in a manner that calls to mind those early 90's Mr. Fingers records. While A2's Essence of Life (Afterhours Mix) takes us further into the darkness with a spiraling timber of percussions lain over distorted vocal arrangements, the "Daytime Mix" of A3 builds on the momentum of its predecessor with a robust uplifting synth lead and sounds of atmospheric ambiance added to the mixture, effectively taking the composition to an entirely new level. B1 kicks off punching and swinging with the track Knock knock, Who's there?, a ferocious gut-puncher of a track that sees classic Chicago "beat-track" style 909 arrangements lay over an intense saturated 303 bassline that relentlessly worms its way throughout the mix with a booming urgency. B2 sees a turn for the naughty on the track Love And Lust with a xxx-rated vocal line slithering its way through the track, sandwiched in between high-pitched keys and a slinky drumline. Finally, Jack Your Ass Off closes out the album and ties it all together on B3 showcasing the full-fledged insanity of the classic trademark Chicago "jack" style that sees the title of the track frantically screamed over and over though a sampler amid hard hitting drums and 303s engineered to make you dance like a freak. A serious 'must have' for any selector or music enthusiast.

2 heavy funk slappers from 1000 fingers man Duktus. Maximum Synth Madness

THE SUBWAYS remain one of the most exciting live bands on the current touring circuit, thrilling crowds with their explosive rock sound and wild stage performances.

Back in 2005, with an average age of just 18, Billy, Charlotte and Josh crashed onto the international music scene with their debut album ‘YOUNG FOR ETERNITY’, and their rock-club floor-filling single ‘ROCK & ROLL QUEEN’. The NME proclaimed them “The sexiest thing to sweep rock n roll off its feet in years!”. An appearance on American smash teen drama THE OC and in Guy Ritchie’s London Gangster flick ‘RocknRolla’ has helped make the track a Spotify Rock Playlist mainstay.

The band have released four albums to date. Their sophomore, ‘ALL OR NOTHING’ (2008), was recorded in LA with heavyweight producer Butch Vig and, is “Buoyed with emotional heft and supernova guitar riffs, wired around a maturing song craft” (MOJO). The tracks were written at a time when Billy was battling to save his voice following surgery to remove nodules from his vocal cords. ‘MONEY AND CELEBRITY’ followed in 2011, filled with “brilliantly anarchic punk-pop vignettes; each being a big musical finger that sticks it to financial greed, the mediocre mainstream and the fame fetishists” (ROCKSOUND) and included the Radio 1 A-listed single ‘WE DON’T NEED MONEY TO HAVE A GOOD TIME’. Their self-titled 4th album saw the emergence of singer and songwriter Billy Lunn as a producer, as he took control of engineering and mixing duties and is "On Par with the best things they have ever written... and finds the band energized, focused and battle-ready" Q Magazine.

The global pandemic, though cutting short their 40+ date international ‘Young For Eternity Anniversary Tour’, has kept Billy busy in his newly-established Hertfordshire studio, with Charlotte and Josh in their respective homes focused on remotely recording Album 5. Makeshift under-stair vocal booths were constructed, and the album is now ready for a summer, 2022 release alongside a full European Tour

In April 2021 the band signed to ‘Alcopop’ and released the politically-charged, Black-Lives-Matter-inspired single “Fight”, which they describe as “a letter in two parts: a gesture of solidarity with the Black community and communities of colour as they face their daily oppression at the hands of systemic racism, and a wake-up-call to the white community that such oppressions do in fact exist, and that we must acknowledge these oppressions and fight alongside marginalised communities as allies.”

Sie sind die nächste Dimension der deutschen Rockmusik: Unter dem Namen UNIVERSUM25 hat sich mit Members von In Extremo, Eisbrecher, Fiddler‘s Green, Dritte Wahl und Slime eine ganz neue Formation zusammengefunden, um die apathische Menschheit mit ihrem kompromisslosen Hybridmix aus ElectroMetal und Punk-Rock aus dem Dämmerschlaf zu reißen.

Mit der packenden Coverversion des Ton Steine Scherben-Kultsongs „Der Traum ist aus“ legt die hochkarätige Allstarband nun ihre erste Single vor!

Harte Rockgitarren, atmosphärische Electronica und schonungslos offene Klartext-Lyrics, die den Finger in die Wunden eines Planeten am Rande der Selbstzerstörung legen: So klingt der dystopisch-faszinierende Soundkosmos von UNIVERSUM25. Hinter dem mysteriösen Namen verbergen sich niemand Geringere als Michael Robert Rhein (In Extremo), Rupert Keplinger (Eisbrecher, Antitype), Patrick „Pat“ Prziwara (Fiddler’s Green), Gunnar Schroeder (Dritte Wahl), Alex Schwers (Slime), sowie der renommierte Producer
Jörg Umbreit - gemeinsam hält die Formation der Welt mit ihrem wütenden Crossover aus Metal, Rock und Electronica einen Spiegel vor.

Crackled radio-like transmissions from Norway's rural hinterland. Juni Habel's fragile finger-picked lullabies warm themselves by the open fire with her rich intimate voice atop twinkling arrangements and strange percussive instrumentation. Like glowing embers in the dark, these songs are odes to life and death, the beauty of belonging and human kinship with nature.
Push open the door of the old school house in the remote flatlands of Southern Norway that Juni Habel shares with her close-knit family and climb the stairs; you’ll find yourself in a former classroom – the home of her new album Carvings. A songbook of life’s lessons offering an expansive perspective as it navigates personal shadows between darkness and light.
“I knew I wanted to write from a larger perspective. I wanted to write about the course of nature, and the people in it - life and death, beauty and tragedy.” Juni says, “loss - the search for the dead - grasping to find the words, and liberation of giving that up. I also wanted to explore my own kinship with nature - a sense of belonging, and notice what is around with gratitude and zest for life.”
This unyielding spirit of family and nature is etched into Carvings’ unschooled approach. With beauty in mock-simplicity and radiating humanity like the music of Tia Blake, Julie Byrne or Myriam Gendron, Juni’s songwriting unfolds on her own terms, and is the sound of facing whatever mother nature decides will find its way to the top of the list.
Recorded between the classroom (‘big hall’), the hallway on the 2nd floor, and her bedroom with simple gear and vocals laid down in a single take. Co-producer, musician and singer Stian Skaaden, became her melodic confidant and experimental co-conspirator halving the burden by building the album’s layers through blowing a pipe, playing bow on the banjo, bottles or glockenspiel. “With this album I wanted to lean deeper into the process. The title Carvings illustrates thoroughness. It was a vulnerable project, to strive for creating something truly beautiful, to pour my soul into it,” she says.
Uninhibited by the possibility of ‘mistakes’ and jamming until she struck gold, Juni confidently discovered the truest expression of herself. “It takes courage to do things ‘wrong’ with uncertainty, record lyrics which are strange but feel right, on crappy mics, it can be good to fumble a bit,” Juni says before tellingly, “the joy of playing is quite fragile. I have to protect it. You can't use your head, you have to be inside the song.”

If we want to look into the future, we have to start considering the implications more holistically. All too often, science fiction is a dystopian projection of the current era's grimmest realities spiked with pragmatic historical hindsight - but what if instead it was able to reflect our needs, hopes, and dreams? On "SPINE", award-winning Danish composer SØS Gunver Ryberg considers a sustainable alternative, buoyed by interconnectedness, empowerment, and understanding. Channeling her dextrous sound design into advanced, time-bending music that fluctuates through techno, experimental ambient, and soundsystem-vibrating bass music, she maps out an artistic landscape that's futuristic and complex, but never oppressive.

Ryberg is an accomplished producer who's developed her sound over many years, playing concerts and working tirelessly on video game soundtracks, film scores, dance, performance, and multichannel installation pieces. Her first solo album "Entangled" appeared in 2019 on Berlin's esteemed Avian imprint, and was praised for its sensitive approach to noise and abstracted techno, while its EP-length followup "WHYT 030" was nominated for the Nordic Council's prestigious music prize this year. "SPINE" is the inaugural release on Ryberg's own label Arterial, and stands as a thematically dense statement of intent. The label provides a platform to extend Ryberg's artistic goals and reflect not just her world but a world she wants to see develop in the future: somewhere connected and creative, where exploration and free expression is prioritized over genre division and petty compromise.

This philosophy is central to the sounds on "SPINE", which have been carefully sculpted to accurately lay out Ryberg's worldview. Opening track 'Unfolding' presents a sonic ecosystem that flourishes as it spreads itself out, and quivering kick drums vibrate alongside unstable atmospherics. There's the faint fingerprint of Chain Reaction's notional dub techno in there somewhere, but Ryberg interrupts the thought before it can coagulate, assuring the listener that her vision isn't ponderous but playful and optimistic. This mood flickers into view again on the title track 'Spine', as fragmented breaks rumble beneath disorienting synths, faint images of a life we once knew refracted into cosmic beams of light. 'Mirrored Madness' meanwhile is warm, assertive, and optimistic, contrasting skittering cybernetic percussion with dense, enveloping harmonies.

When she pushes rhythm into the background, like on the cinematic 'We tumble on the edges', Ryberg's compositional skill is placed under the microscope. We're presented with the opportunity to examine another dimension of her work, the mystery beneath the stone, hearing saturated, alluring pads infused with hidden harmonies. In these moments, Ryberg implores all of us to consider the environment, asking us to think about the earth's essential nutrients on the dreamy 'Phosphorus Cycle', and what we might do to save ourselves on the delirious 'Where do we go from here'. Ryberg's concern isn't chastising, it's laid out in a warm embrace. The future could still be bright - there's something beautiful in the complexity if you just take the time to look closely.

At the time of release Ebony reviewer Phyl Garland said "One needn't be a "piano freak" to appreciate a truly new recording. First of all imagine seven gifted and talented pianists sitting down to seven grand pianos and proceeding to tear up these instruments - musically, that is. ...the torrent of sound springing from their 70 fingers is so powerful and majestic as to be unlike anything one has ever heard."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

Exclusive Bundle LP+7"-
Exclusive lim.Yellow Vinyl + 7” Black Vinyl including exclusive Bonus Track “Slimbo”.

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

TRANSPARENT PURPLE VINYL

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

Tape

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

‘Change’ is the brand-new album by Anika, the first solo music from theBerlin based artist in 8 years.
A British ex-pat and former political journalist, Anika has collaborated withBEAK>and Tricky and released two albums with Mexico City’s Exploded.
View to great acclaim. The single ‘Change’ tackles personal growth as well as wider issues and grapples with eternal questions as to whether one can ever truly change.
It has been 11 years since the release of her last solo album, 2010 cultfavourite ‘Anika’; she suddenly found herself with a lot to say. “This album had been planned for a little while and the circumstances of its inception were quite different to what had been expected. This coloured the album quite significantly. The lyrics were all written there on the spot. It’s a vomit of emotions, anxieties, empowerment and of thoughts like - How can this go on? How can we go on?”
The intimacy of its creation and a palpable sense of global anxiety are
seemingly baked into the DNA of Change. Spread across nine tracks, the central feeling of the record is one of heightened frustration buoyed by guarded optimism. The songs offer skittering, austere electronic backdrops reminiscent of classic Broadcast records or ‘High Scores’-era Boards of Canada, playing them against Anika’s remarkable voice - Nico-esque, beautifully plaintive and - in regards to the record’s subject matter - totally resolute. Incantatory tracks like ‘Naysayer’ and ‘Never Coming Back’ are both a call to arms and a warning. “‘Never Coming Back’ was written after reading Rachel Carson’s ‘Silent Spring’,” she explains. “I was living in the old East countryside outside of Berlin, where there seemed to be no shortage of birds. Apparently their numbers have dropped significantly, but it is one of these changes that we never really stop and notice. We take things for granted, until it’s too late. With all this other noise
going on, care for the environment has quickly been moved to the backburner. So long as we get what we want NOW and on demand, who cares about whether we are taking care of the future?”