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Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

Ever been hit in the face with a wooden plank stuffed with rusty nails? Me neither, but I imagine the effect would be something like the sensation of having Montreal five-piece Puffer blasted into your eardrums. Put simply, this is the midpoint between hardcore and dirty ol’ rock’n’roll - part Poison Idea going dumpster-diving outside the garages of Melbourne’s punk scene, part Fucked Up playing their X records on a rotary sander. They’re equally at home with a pacy blur of riffs as they are going for a four-to-the-floor stomp; either way, the ragged larynx sits perfectly astride the roar, while the guitars go full Bob Stinson at his too-drunk-to-fuck-up best. You can practically hear the leather jackets creaking between phrases. This is music to move to. So what better place to start with this band than an LP compiling their must-have demo from 2022 and the remarkably excellent self-titled EP that followed in 2023? Originally released by New York’s increasingly-essential hc label Roachleg Records, these two highly digestible bursts of punk’n’roll complement each other perfectly. Whether you get your giddy thrills from the raw-as-hell likes of opener ‘Suffering’, or from the non-more-anthemic, holy-shit-I-need-to-bang-my-skull-against-the-wall double whammy of ‘Sister Marie’ and ‘Hard Way To Go’, you are guaranteed to find something to love here. You could always try hitting yourself with that plank, but you’ll probably find you return to this more often. Drunken Sailor delivers the goods again. Get the fuck involved.

Jade Hairpins waste no time fulfilling their second album's titular demand. From its harmony-drenched opening note to its baroque-anthemic conclusion, Get Me the Good Stuff is positively loaded with musical ideas, an absurdist buffet of sound and aesthetic that comes with one hell of a floorshow as the Hairpins stack those ideas higher and higher, almost daring them to crash to the floor. Instead, those elements - punksploitation, power pop, baggy, funk, and Italo disco are just some touchstones - are not only held aloft, they defy gravity and convention. These pyrotechnics are, in true Jade Hairpins fashion, something of a sleight of hand. While the music swaggers and gallops, Get Me the Good Stuff grapples with anxiety and self-doubt, obfuscating pain and alienation with sparkling wit and some straight-up ravers. Get Me the Good Stuff opens with one of those, "Let It Be Me," in which Jonah Falco shouts lyrics about being alone with one's shortcomings against guitars, synths, and harmonized vocals that are on the verge of closing in. The song is just over 90 seconds long, hitting with the gnarled-barb ferocity of punk and the gleeful insanity of theatrical art rock. It is, in other words, overwhelming. Or it would be if Jade Hairpins - Jonah Falco and Mike Haliechuk - weren't remarkably nimble in their ability to bring unity to sounds by placing them in competition against each other. When those sounds are adjacent, like the glam and disco that saturate "Drifting Superstition," the thrill of those universes colliding in the heat of an absolutely filthy clavichord line turns its lyrics, about the habit of solving personal problems by ignoring them, into a winner's anthem on the order of Bowie or Hot Chocolate. Get Me the Good Stuff arcs towards unequivocal joy as Falco, Jade Hairpins' primary lyricist, breaks these cycles and attempts to run away with his dreams. The arc is roughly analogous to how the album came to fruition. Four years removed from Harmony Avenue, an album of material that proved too strong to be contained within the narrative universe of Fucked Up's Dose Your Dreams, Jade Hairpins have gelled as a live act - with Tamsin M. Leach and Jack Goldstein centering them on stage - and planted their flag in the UK punk scene in which Falco has embedded himself. Working out new material live, Falco noticed that crowds were digging into his unfinished lyrics, and the album tightened around the anxieties of being in the spotlight, of being worthy of attention. At times, those songs are eager to please, like the album's title track in which a winking self-deprecation rubs up against the self-congratulatory bombast of Freddie Mercury, Falco simultaneously turning heads as a shooting star and a burning car. Elsewhere, as in "Better Here Than in Love," Jade Hairpins pitch themselves towards creating gorgeous soundscapes that exist nowhere else, channeling postpunk through the glimmering haze of '80s Japanese electronic music. Theatrical and personal, absurd and true-to-life, playful and serious, Get Me the Good Stuff is album of tremendous personal and artistic growth that signposts towards dozens of potential futures to come. It's not only worth the attention, it continuously rewards it.

Jade Hairpins waste no time fulfilling their second album's titular demand. From its harmony-drenched opening note to its baroque-anthemic conclusion, Get Me the Good Stuff is positively loaded with musical ideas, an absurdist buffet of sound and aesthetic that comes with one hell of a floorshow as the Hairpins stack those ideas higher and higher, almost daring them to crash to the floor. Instead, those elements_punksploitation, power pop, baggy, funk, and Italo disco are just some touchstones_are not only held aloft, they defy gravity and convention. These pyrotechnics are, in true Jade Hairpins fashion, something of a sleight of hand. While the music swaggers and gallops, Get Me the Good Stuff grapples with anxiety and self-doubt, obfuscating pain and alienation with sparkling wit and some straight-up ravers. Get Me the Good Stuff opens with one of those, "Let It Be Me," in which Jonah Falco shouts lyrics about being alone with one's shortcomings against guitars, synths, and harmonized vocals that are on the verge of closing in. The song is just over 90 seconds long, hitting with the gnarled-barb ferocity of punk and the gleeful insanity of theatrical art rock. It is, in other words, overwhelming. Or it would be if Jade Hairpins_Jonah Falco and Mike Haliechuk_weren't remarkably nimble in their ability to bring unity to sounds by placing them in competition against each other. When those sounds are adjacent, like the glam and disco that saturate "Drifting Superstition," the thrill of those universes colliding in the heat of an absolutely filthy clavichord line turns its lyrics, about the habit of solving personal problems by ignoring them, into a winner's anthem on the order of Bowie or Hot Chocolate. Get Me the Good Stuff arcs towards unequivocal joy as Falco, Jade Hairpins' primary lyricist, breaks these cycles and attempts to run away with his dreams. The arc is roughly analogous to how the album came to fruition. Four years removed from Harmony Avenue, an album of material that proved too strong to be contained within the narrative universe of Fucked Up's Dose Your Dreams, Jade Hairpins have gelled as a live act_with Tamsin M. Leach and Jack Goldstein centering them on stage_and planted their flag in the UK punk scene in which Falco has embedded himself. Working out new material live, Falco noticed that crowds were digging into his unfinished lyrics, and the album tightened around the anxieties of being in the spotlight, of being worthy of attention. At times, those songs are eager to please, like the album's title track in which a winking self-deprecation rubs up against the self-congratulatory bombast of Freddie Mercury, Falco simultaneously turning heads as a shooting star and a burning car. Elsewhere, as in "Better Here Than in Love," Jade Hairpins pitch themselves towards creating gorgeous soundscapes that exist nowhere else, channeling postpunk through the glimmering haze of '80s Japanese electronic music. Theatrical and personal, absurd and true-to-life, playful and serious, Get Me the Good Stuff is album of tremendous personal and artistic growth that signposts towards dozens of potential futures to come. It's not only worth the attention, it continuously rewards it.

The Heads’ Simon Price returns to his kandodo project with 'theendisinpsych'; "primitive pieces of psychedelic tuneage+years of wasted time=43 minutes of headphone bliss." It's the follow up to the 2019 collaboration with Wayne Maskell and Hugo Morgan, Kandodo 3 – K3, but this time back in solo-mode. He is now relocated in Northumbria, and has recorded the album himself in his home studio, drawing on his wide collection of music/instruments and the rural environment for inspiration. The new album fizzes and crackles with a verve that will activate the “turn on, tune in, drop out” sense in all listeners… Simon explained the album in a focused/out of focus track by track way… is this Price’s paean to his obsession with Bowie? chamba7 - octave mandolin through fuzz, tambo beat, in praise of Bowie compilations. chamba is malawian weed theendisinpsych - bought a reel to reel tape off ebay in 2005, ('Bowie radio interview tape, USA, 1970, 3 minutes?') then bought a machine to play it on in 2015. Heard the words and laid them onto a fuzzy break bed. Thought it all too relevant to today, prophetic David from his 'hippy' days (not a prophet or a stone age man) fuzzy oceans - played on 1 string spamjo, bouncing echo over 70's drum machine, 'we've fucked the oceans' freefalling - rolling cello and hissing cymbals with vocoder dreams comes with african/stationtostation artwork stylings for the sleeve..pre-apocalypse blues (and pinks), the world isn't going a good way a sumptuous 4 course sonic supper, tuck in.

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.

While Duster went into hibernation in the year 2000, Clay Parton's four-track never stopped rolling. Recorded alone at home over several years, Birds In The Ground is an album of 30-something, post-9/11 malaise. Under his Eiafuawn (Everything Is All Fucked Up And What Not) acronym, Parton hides beneath layers of fuzzy and clean guitars, his hesitant, cottony vocal disappear into noise. This deluxe pressing is packaged in a gorgeous tip on sleeve and includes the complete lyrics for this cryptic entry of the Dusterverse.

A limited vinyl pressing of the sixth album from the classic L.A. punk ska band! On purple blast vinyl!

Right from the start when you hear Feldmann’s voice sing "Everyday is just the same" before the guitars, bass, and drums kick in on opening track "One More Time," you instantly know that Goldfinger are back as good as ever. The elements of desire, passion, and punk in those 5 words instantly tell you that Hello Destiny is going to be different to Disconnection Notice. The songs on the album go from strength to strength. From the slightly heavier song of "Handjobs For Jesus," to the upbeat Ska of "Get Up," to the sweet heartfelt acoustics of the bonus track "Julian," this is an album that will be up there with the best of the Goldfinger records. Like having sex for the first time, it will be remembered.

Last month, Chase and Status returned to the limelight unveiling their hard-hitting and trailblazing singles “When It Rains” ft. BackRoad Gee, complete with a Jack McMullen starring, Hector Dockrill-directed cinematic visual and the addictive smash “Don’t Be Scared” ft. Takura. Today, the duo are making a true statement of intent for the year ahead, with the announcement of their sixth studio album, What Came Before. Created by Crown & Owls, the accompanying artwork captures a truly special and magnetic live moment. Speaking on the concept, Crown & Owls state:

“We wanted to create an image that captured the very human compulsion to gather in a dark room and dance and sweat. Such scenes have a different weight to them after they were off the table for a good while, and we were very interested in capturing a moment of collective catharsis in the shadow of a period of history that pushed isolation on so many. We were really interested in the stories of the individuals in the image - what drives them to want to be in that room? The whole campaign kind of works backwards from that moment in the photo really - the intersecting stories of the dance floor, and the sense of freedom and release it brings to the individual. The record sleeve, the single covers, visualisers and elements of the music videos were all captured at this special night - it’s been a joy to work on.”

Landing alongside the album announcement is new single “Mixed Emotions” - a euphoric and recognisably brilliant dose of true Chase and Status energy that landed alongside an incredible video, filmed in two halves and directed by UKMVA-winning Femi Ladi (Pa Salieu - “My Family”). Femi Ladi states:

“On nights out like this, sometimes you just want to get fucked up. Trying to get to that moment, when you’re out of your head and completely in the moment. Sometimes music gets us there, sometimes drugs and alcohol, sometimes it’s a combination of all 3.

I want to connect our camera to the chasing of that high. A visual metaphor for trying to reach that euphoria. Each time she takes a bump, a line or a pill, the camera closes in on her. The closer she gets to that euphoric moment, the closer the camera gets to her.

By the end I want the audience to have an uncomfortable and claustrophobic feeling as our hero goes slightly overboard, a feeling that most of us know but won't dare to admit.”

Consisting of 13 tracks, What Came Before distills 15 years of unparalleled experiences into a bold, invigorating sixth album; informed by global tours, sold out headline shows, five albums, multiple awards, chart success, underground kudos, top tier collaborations and remixes, and, above all else, that unwavering dance floor energy that remains as tangible and transformative now as it has since the very beginning. This pure, unadulterated exhilaration is the glue that binds all of these experiences together, cultivating a legacy of positive vibes, unforgettable moments and the continued progression of British club culture.

For trailblazers Chase and Status, the story is cyclical - a constant process of regeneration and refinement that comes full circle. Everything that came before, from their inception point to now, has brought them back to their essence.

Landing in the wake of their critically acclaimed specialist album RTRN II JUNGLE, and the more recent news of their headlining ParkLife festival this Summer, Chase and Status’s musical return is highly anticipated. After a series of teasers were published on their social media, the duo directed their fans to whatcamebefore , unveiling a plethora of forthcoming Summer festival dates.

The forthcoming album marks the inception point for the duo’s next phase; while on forced hiatus they also went back to square one with their live show. With What Came Before Chase & Status prepare to embark on the next chapter of their illustrious career as a seasoned act ignited by the same excitement

Repress!
Note - Sleeve says contains a bonus CD, these represses do not have a bonus CD, they have a download card.

Hate Your Friends is the 1987 debut album by the Lemonheads, one of only three full-length releases to feature the original band line- up of Evan Dando, Ben Deily, and Jesse Peretz. The album showcases a hardcore-punk-to-pop-rock sound and sensibility as playfully fierce as it is surprising…especially to listeners who know the band only from their better-known major label recordings of the 1990s. The roots of Hate Your Friends begin with the genesis of the band itself: when high school friends Ben Deily and Evan Dando—inspired by a shared love of the 70’s absurdist comedy troupe the Firesign Theatre, literature, and punk rock—began playing their own songs together in 1985. Dando and Deily first started out as a two-piece ensemble: swapping back and forth between a shared Guild guitar (and a crappy amp) and vocal mic, and pounding a drum kit “borrowed” from the high school jazz band. With the addition of classmate and friend Jesse Peretz on bass, the two-man outfit quickly became a power trio. With a handful of original songs, a passionate love for their favourite bands—from Husker-Du, the Replacements, Black Flag and the Germs, to the Saints, Wire and ‘77 UK punk—and a tiny recording budget, the Lemonheads set about their first studio session within days of their high school graduation in June of 1986. During that summer, a significant amount of what would become the band’s debut album was recorded in Brookline, Massachusetts, with Deily and Dando sharing vocal, guitar and drumming duties. Above and beyond bass, Jesse proved pivotal as the band’s manager, booker and tireless promoter—helping arrange for the Lemonheads self-released debut EP, Laughing all the way to the cleaners, later that summer, and shortly thereafter helping establish the relationship with Curtis Casella of TAANG! records that paved the way to full-length LP Hate Your Friends. Finally, with the addition of full-time (and fairly short-lived) drummer Doug Trachten, the last songs of Hate Your Friends were recorded in the winter of 1986-7. BONUS TRACKS: This Fire Records re-issue features bonus tracks including 12 never-before-released live tracks from a 1987 radio session, rare tracks from the early compilation Crawling From Within, and additional tracks not included on the original release of Hate Your Friends (“Buried Alive” and “Gotta Stop”).

"Since 2012, New York City singer-songwriter Nate Amos (Water From Your Eyes, My Idea) has recorded and self-released hundreds of songs under the This Is Lorelei moniker, and perhaps surprisingly, after a decade plus, ""Box for Buddy, Box for Star"" marks the first attempt at a traditional, intentionally written full-length album. Amos describes the bulk of This Is Lorelei’s discography as “unedited diary entries,” written and recorded without much forethought, regard for genre or reverence for albums as thematic bodies of work, so oddly enough, ""Box for Buddy, Box for Star"" is both a fresh start and the culmination of years of diligent, interesting songwriting.

""Box for Buddy, Box for Star"" embraces traditional pop songcraft and a confessional, carefully written brand of lyricism, dabbling in the kind of classic singer-songwriter cliches he never imagined toying with—but not without the counterbalancing force of shitpost-y irony, which listeners have come to expect from Amos. Inspired by the gritty romanticism of Shane MacGowan and the Jim Croce mimicry of Tim Heidecker’s ""What the Brokenhearted Do…"", the LP exudes both a grizzled charm and youthful intensity. Sonically, Amos adorns the record with quaint country gestures—a full-circle artistic choice for Amos whose father is a veteran bluegrass musician.

And it wouldn’t be a Nate Amos release without a few curveballs, like “Dancing in the Club,” a bouncy auto-tuned pop song, which he likens to Bruce Hornsby-via-Blink-182, or “Perfect Hand,” an intimate piano-led track with vocal samples, alarm bell-like effects and skittering electronic beats. He also mischievously opens the album with a red herring of sorts, “Angel’s Eye,” a twangy sci-fi country duet about an angel who abducts a cowboy and unintentionally falls in love."

Upchuck are experiencing a moment. The Atlanta punk collective just came off multiple tour runs with their good friend Faye Webster. Their Ty Segall-produced second album Bite The Hand That Feeds, with all its buzzsaw guitars and high-speed rippers and headbanging sludge, arrived in October. Later this year, they’ll make appearances at multiple festivals including Coachella. In the midst of relentlessly barreling ahead, the band and their label Famous Class are taking a beat to revisit how they got here. After working with Segall on Bite the Hand That Feeds, the band floated the notion that they wished they could hear what their collaborator could do with the songs on their 2022 debut album Sense Yourself. Holed up in his studio over Christmas with COVID and nothing else to do, Ty Segall began toying with Sense Yourself, sifting through folders of unlabeled stems to find the best guitar parts, emboldening the drum sound, and bringing greater clarity to KT’s vocals, all while bolstering the urgency of the band’s overall attack. With Segall’s new mix, Upchuck’s intense and righteous debut now impossibly overflows with even more fuzz and fury. In Segall, they found a kindred spirit whose studio approach made sense for just how hard they wanted this music to hit. “When we first went to record with Ty for Bite the Hand That Feeds, Mikey and I walked into the guitar room and Ty said, ‘Don’t touch the EQs.’ We looked at the amp and everything was on 10 except the master volume,” Hoff said. Previously, the band had been encouraged to capture the unvarnished sound of the studio. They’d toured with Segall’s band Fuzz, so everybody had the same goal while recording together: Capture the electricity of their intense live set. The band’s shows have a reputation for coming unglued, and there’s no greater document of that than Sense Yourself’s iconic album artwork. With no text, it’s a candid photo of a moment from a show shot on film without editing: blood streaked across KT’s face as they shout into the mic. In the middle of their EP release show, KT was in the pit as a fan started crowd surfing inside a shopping cart. A loose piece of metal near a wheel caught the singer right near the eyebrow and blood was everywhere, an instant piece of iconography snapped by probably every camera phone in the room. When Hoff revisits the message of this first album and Upchuck’s first songs, he thinks back to the year before the band even started when he and KT were hanging out. “We were sitting around talking for eight hours like ‘fuck, that's fucked up, that's fucked up.’” Upchuck became a vehicle for these five people to process how fucked up everything it is—to digest these formative hours-long conversations and put them to bludgeoning, intense rock music. The music is also fun as hell, and that’s part of the point. “There's a lot we need to do as people and a lot of things we need to fix in society but also like come on man like have your fun, wild out, have your drink,” KT says. “But be on your shit at the same time. Check your folk.”

"Everything's been fucked since David Bowie died or they started up the Hadron Collider" say The Janitors. This feeling is epitomised in the title of their riveting new album: An Error Has Occurred. Marking over two decades of activity for the Swedish psych-rockers, the recording is informed by heartbreak and loss as well as the dismal state of the entire planet. For The Janitors, these two polarities intertwine constantly: "What's personal is political and vice versa." To channel their frustration and anger, the band revived certain songs they'd shelved during the pandemic when working on the acclaimed Noisolation Sessions. They added others, written since, that suited the mood of sticking a middle finger up to the oppressive world around us. Whereas previous recordings were often layered up gradually, this time the full band (Henric Herlenius, Jonas Eriksson, Anders Thorell and Wilhelm Tengdahl) rehearsed intensely together before laying down everything live, over two days and nights, in a converted missionary church. The songs on Side A have the menace of Melvins, the swagger of The Stooges and the cosmic heft of The Heads. These are the more simply constructed and poppier pieces... or so the band believe. (One friend of theirs did consider this "delusional".) 'In A Bliss' acts as the album's radiant centrepiece. A palette-cleansing love song which recalls The Jesus And Mary Chain at their most starry eyed, it finds The Janitors searching for solace and strength in straightforward companionship. After this come the dronier numbers, drawn out with soundscapes and textures influenced by The Velvet Underground's sonic experiments and the equally immersive atmospheres of electronic acts like Massive Attack. Hence, 'Operator' swings threateningly like a space-rock Swans, while the approach on 'Farewell Spacegirl' is jazzier and more meditative. "It can be hard to muster up some, or even any, positive energy at this point in time," says Henric. "We are eternally grateful to have the creative output that this constellation gives us. Neither me or Jonas would probably be here, or be the same people we are, if it wasn't for The Janitors. We'll leave you with a quote from an old anarchist: 'Every society gets the criminals it deserves.'"

December 2012 I showed up totally exhausted in Vancouver BC after touring stupidly and relentlessly for however many straight months and got a job at a call centre raising money for the Red Cross. It was a scent free office but one time this woman cooked a piece of fish in the microwave for 10 minutes on low and hot boxed the whole office - we got sent home early no pay. There was the other woman I named the Call Centre Coltrane because her pitch and routine usually involved improvised flights of fancy that went off in both directions at once somehow landing back down with a credit card number and a donation. I used to sleep under the desk. I was there a few months and at the time I reconnected with John Brennan who I had played with briefly in Montreal at the Mutek Festival. In Montreal John was running an experimental music night at a burrito shop downtown called Garbage Night. While in Vancouver I began connecting with the music scene there and would go hang out with the Shearing Pinx lads who I think lived with Sydney the bass player at the time. I knew Nic and Jer from an AIDS Wolf Tour and was so stoked to get to know them both better. I really fell in love with that era of Vancouver's music scene.
Fast Forward to today. 2024
Actually it was the dying days of 2023 but you get it and John asks if I'll sit in with Earth Ball and I keep thinking about Earth Balance, the vegan butter everyone eats here. I brought my aching bones and my ipads on the beautiful ferry named the Queen of Oak Bay and out to Nanaimo BC, home of the nanaimo bar (a dessert treat - special to this region - that seems to be more popularly found under the weird glass sneeze guards in office building deli's out east in Ontario.... anyhoops ). No one in Nanaimo wants to talk to me about the famous treat. I asked a couple of people. Silence. Nanaimo is like London, Ontario but more fried and by the sea. The town is filled with blown out old sea dawgs with tin coffee pots and loose leaf tobacco, then there's the usual streetfolk you find in this part of the Canadian Pacific Northwest and a bunch of bohemians who I guess have left Vancouver behind - that fine city having become uninhabitable for those not making over 100k a year. And then up the way are all the retirees.
Yup Nanaimo is a strange one. They mined the shit out of this region and Nanaimo is surely haunted by those buried in mining shafts or maimed by the heavy machinery or blown up by accident in the explosives store house. And when Earth Ball fire up the amps in Izzy and Jer's basement you can hear the voices of the ghosts hum through electrical lines and out the speakers, Kellen's hued feedback, Izy's sturdy basslines, Jer's paperbag guitar tone and rumble pack zaps, Liam's (aka the Kid) sheets of sound and Brennen's multidirectional drums.
You wouldn't guess Earth Ball was auto-composing and from what my rat brain can tell - the lyrics are improvised too...Improvising lyrics and singing them is the hardest thing to do in all of music.. Izzy and Jer are pros. And their attitudes are pro too.
The live show is scorched and without naming names they've been known to make headliners nervous. Lucky ones will get to see them live as they tour this beast of a record entitled ‘It’s Yours’ (out May 17th on Upset The Rhythm) and I hope I'm one of them.
But now you, fan of fun but totally fucked up music, have the opportunity to Ball with them thanks to Upset The Rhythm. Enjoy
-Alex Moskos, Montreal QC, Feb 2024

Although a five-piece live and with too many contributors on record to list, Serena-Maneesh nevertheless essentially remains the work of Emil Nikolaisen. Born in the remote village of Moi into a musical family (sisters Hilma and Elvira often play with the band), Emil is Norwegian rock royalty. It’s hard to find a Norwegian band that Emil hasn’t either played with or produced, and he’s also been nominated for a Spellemannsprisen, the Norwegian equivalent of a Grammy. He’s not just influential in his home country either, having released a split single with Fucked Up, worked with Sufjan Stevens, and been invited to share stages with The Dandy Warhols, Nine Inch Nails and Oasis. In 2008, Smalltown Supersound originally released this glimpse of Serena-Maneesh's early days. Tweaked and all beautifully pushed to the red. Most of the material on SM-Backwards was released as two EPs prior to Serena-Maneesh's much lauded debut album; "Zurück" and "Fixxations" both on Hype City and Honeymilk Records, covering the time 1999-2003. Due to the fact that the labels didn't have international distribution, the material never got released outside of Norway. In addition to the original EP material, this vinyl reissue also contains new re-wrappings/mixes with contributions from Anton Newcombe of Brian Jonestown Massacre, Kramer and others from the universe surrounding Serena-Maneesh.

The Cat's Miaow return to World Of Echo with Skipping Stones: The Cassette Years '92-'93, their second compilation for the imprint, and the fourth in a loosely defined series of reissues associated with the group (also including The Shapiros' Gone By Fall: The Collected Works of The Shapiros and Hydroplane's Selected Songs 1997-2003). It's a smart selection of songs by one of Australia's finest independent pop music groups, whose initial run, across the nineties, was as mysterious as it was bewitching. A generous double album featuring thirty-five songs drawn from The Cat's Miaow's history, Skipping Stones lets listeners in on a bunch more secrets. The four cassettes that Skipping Stones draws from - Little Baby Sour Puss, Pet Sounds (both 1992), From My Window, and How Did Everything Get So Fucked Up (both 1993) - were released or assisted by Toytown, a Melbourne cassette label of rare taste, savvy and intelligence. Diving into that two-year period, Skipping Stones is full of surprises, rich with unexpected and inspired detours, while reminding everyone just how clear and distinct The Cat's Miaow's music was from the very start. Looking in from the outside, they always felt like a group that knew just what they were doing, but intuitive as they are, they weren't forcing anything: these songs always sound exactly what they need to be, rough edges, playful moments and all. The Cat's Miaow may have been bedroom dreamers, but their songs were richly informed, with the sweetest of girl-pop moves sashaying into walls of tremolo-d and distorted guitar, jangling six strings tangling with melodic bass that's pure Peter Hook/Naomi Yang, while the gentle trickle of a drum machine or the earthy twitch of brushes on drum skins provided the spine for Kerrie's and Bart's lovely, unforced singing. This double LP on World Of Echo feels like the very core of the thing - some of the most heartbreakingly beautiful, effortlessly lush and deeply moving pop music you're likely to hear. RIYL: Hydroplane, The Cannanes, Magnetic Fields, Belle and Sebastian, Jesus and Mary Chain

King Of Blue by Yes Indeed sees Laurie Tompkins and Otto Wilberg take their eclectic stance on cosmic jazz and electronics to further uncharted and dreamlike territory, encompassing a unique logic of what is harmoniously absurdist.

King of Blue by Yes Indeed sees members Laurie Tompkins and Otto Willberg further dive into their melismatic take on cosmic jazz and new electronics, by way of their highly eclectic and at times nonsensically sensical modus operandi. Their work is defined by an eloquent flurry of ideas, spheres, and signifiers, creating a musical universe of surprising longevity and depth. Treating musical convention with gentle disdain, Yes Indeed take on a variety of genres and moods and switch them around into a beautifully melismatic and dreamlike state of being. King Of Blue is a mini- album of fragmented beauty and warmth. It puts the illogical center stage and gives space to abruptly miniaturist musical ideas, allowing them to take on a meaning bigger than one would expect. It is cosmic music for modern times. A brazen descent into the execution of a fundamentally diversified musical stance.

'Yes Indeed' are Laurie Tompkins & Otto Willberg. Live, they play keys, bouncy bass and sing over tactile, emotive samples. Their music is epic and also somehow wrong, with space for delicacy, straight-up joy and soaring licks. Since 2022’s ‘Rotten Luck’ - their first proper album, on Bison - YI have played across the UK and Europe. Solo, Laurie co-ran the Slip label and has put out CDs on Entr’acte, 33-33 and Hyperdelia. Otto is a roaming bassist in groups like Historically Fucked and Abstract Concrete and his LP of “wildly singular, wickedly trippy and sensual set of fusion jams” (Boomkat) was recently out on Black Truffle.

***After birthing Street Riffs, their hi-definition, hi-energy, statement from 2020, CCR Headcleaner turned inward. The retreat from the pro-studio to the home studio was partially by design and partially decided by global events. Cleaner is very much a pandemic album, more of a homespun head trip than its predecessors. At the same time guitarist, songwriter and spiritual center of the group, Lacey Emmanuel, left the Bay for the shores of Lake Michigan. By most accounts an apocalyptic live-band became by and large a home recording animal. This is most apparent when Headcleaner turns up the balladry. “Don’t Feel the End” is a proto-metal campfire anthem, and “Everyday” hovers somewhere between keyboard misfit John Bender and the White Album. Make no mistake, the record will still be filed under “Punk” at your local record shop. It kicks off with “the brining pt. 2” the hottest slice of Funhouse free-rock that the band has committed to record. “Too Much” gives us its jail abolition rap over a two chord hardcore stomp. In a town (San Francisco) that is experiencing something of a DIY pop renaissance, Headcleaner has always fought to establish the fact that they have actual songs. This is no 70s throwback, but instead an attempt to up the ante. Without all the rock histrionics, technical arrogance and misogyny can the rock riff deliver on its ultimate promise: heavy music for total liberation. All tracks were mixed and lovingly fucked with by none other than Eric Bauer at his Bauer Mansion (RIP) Chinatown SF.

"Richard Edwards is in the pocket. He’s been there for several albums now: 2017’s Lemon Cotton Candy Sunset, 2020’s The Soft Ache & the Moon, and 2022’s Ghost Electricity/Vampire Draw. Just as the Margot records defined his twenties, this “Beach Bum” era, as he calls it, may well define his thirties. That era is expanded in Two Sad Little Islands Drift Together, Two Lonely Little Monkeys Find A Tree: Rare and Unreleased 2015-2023.

Beginning with Lemon Cotton Candy Sunset, Richard has been steering his ongoing body of work toward capturing a feeling of being at sea. Life can find us at sea in any number of ways–in a marriage or partnership, or in longing for one; in parenting, and its ceaseless wonders and worries; in bodies and minds that confound understanding (whether just our own, or also that of professionals); in our rotting world, which we’ve fucked up beyond all repair.

“What does that sound like, though?” you may ask. Like Mike Bloom’s cascading fingerpicking in “Lil Dead Eye-d (b.),” or the tranquilizing combination of Dave Palmer’s piano and Perla Batalla’s multi-tracked vocals on “Love (b.)” Like the L.A. based Section Quartet on “True Love Waits,” or the triumphantly stoned Velvet Ocean jam-session that is “Jane Greer With A Gun.” Like Richard’s use of melody and imagery on “Pink Lightning (b.)” and lead single “Benzedrine,” where he is masterfully accompanied by Erin Rae (on the former) and Maria Taylor (on the latter).

Unlike Richard’s past archival releases which have often featured home demo recordings, everything on Two Sad Little Islands has been produced in-studio. With this 3-LP vinyl set, Richard presents just over two hours of material that once again makes his case as one of the “most underrated songwriters of our time” (LA Review of Books)."

Limited edition 666 copies including insert and vomit orange colored vinyl. Ball is back from the grave! Wasted and slimy Swedish heavy psych speed freak power-trio. Dionysian fuck ‘n’ roll soaked in diabolical occult havoc. Drugged and toxic. Funky-proto-metal with a solid groove. Fucked-up, subhuman fuzz guitars. Depraved, screaming vocals. Gut-rumbling bass and caveman groove drums. This is hard rock from hell. “...this is what black metal would sound like if it was from Detroit ’68.” --Jus Oborn (Electric Wizard) Parental advisory – inside contains XXX-rated content. Buy at your own risk!

4LP is four black vinyl discs in two gatefold jackets + two 18 x 24 folded posters in a side-load slipcase + a printed insert for full album download. This is strictly for Indies only. 2CD is two discs in a six panel wallet + a 28 page booklet + printed insert. Misfits & Mistakes: Singles, B-sides & Strays 2007–2023 is Superchunk’s fourth singles compilation, a massive, 4-LP (or 2-CD) collection covering their triumphant return from hiatus. The amount of ground covered within its gorgeous packaging is staggering: 50 songs, 16 of which are on physical media for the first time, sourced from out-of-print releases, digital singles, compilations, and more, a vital piece of the Superchunk canon. Featuring extensive liner notes by Mac McCaughan (with additional notes from Laura Ballance), Misfits & Mistakes tells the story of each release, from why they chose to cover songs by The Misfits, The Cure, Destiny’s Child, and Bananarama, to working with collaborators like Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee), Jane Wiedlin (The Go-Go’s), Eleanor Friedberger, Damian Abraham (Fucked Up), Norman Blake and Raymond McGinley (Teenage Fanclub), and more! Mac writes: Who knew it would take a cartoon hamburger to kick off a new period of activity for Superchunk? When we recorded “Misfits and Mistakes” for the Aqua Teen Hunger Force soundtrack at Overdub Lane in Durham, we also recorded the first version of “Learned to Surf” which gave us an on-ramp for making new music after 8 years of playing sporadic gigs. It also reminded us what we liked about playing Superchunk songs, whether they’re our own or written by our musical heroes. This collection covers a lot of ground, from heavy touring years to a pandemic where we made singles and an album at home. One difference between this comp and our first three is that this time span completely falls in the digital age; the distance from a final mix to everyone hearing it is shorter than ever. I’ve always liked artists that were prolific—throwing out singles in between albums when you least expect it. A surprise release from your favorite band is one of the few things that can still bring a little excitement to what can seem like an endless deluge of “content” (puke). Hopefully the wild swings between lo & hi fi and originals and covers on this comp still allow for some coherence and, more
importantly, convey what’s FUN about this punk rock thing.

Eight decades in and Charles Hayward (This Heat, Camberwell Now) isn’t slowing down, he’s picking up the pace. Following on from a sensational string of gigs and festival performances, his latest endeavour - Abstract Concrete - is now primed to release this astounding self-titled debut via state51 Conspiracy.

The band features the luminous cast of Agathe Max (Mésange, UKAEA) on viola, Otto Willberg (Yes Indeed, Historically Fucked) on bass, Roberto Sassi (Snorkel, Glenn Branca) on guitar, Yoni Silver (Hyperion Ensemble, Steve Noble) on keyboards and, of course, Charles himself on drums and vocals. With this undeniable experimental pedigree, it’ll likely come as one hell of a surprise that this group are now responsible for one of the most persuasive and hook-laden avant pop albums of the year.

LP SHIPPING ONLY / CD DELAYED “This is definitely the most honest and mature record Deathchant has ever made.” That’s Deathchant vocalist and guitarist T.J. Lemieux talking about the band’s third and latest album, Thrones. Think of it as not just the follow-up to 2021’s Waste, but the other side of the coin. “While Waste and our self-titled album touched on similar themes, they were sort of from a problem standpoint,” he explains. “Thrones is full of reflection, self-realization, and solutions for moving forward and conquering those problems.” Which isn’t to say that Deathchant have gone soft. Far from it, dude. In fact, Thrones just might be their heaviest record thus far. The band’s seamless swirl of classic rock guitar harmonies, syrupy sludge, blues boogie and psych bombast has reached a thrilling new apex as Lemieux spins high-powered tales of reckoning from beyond the wall of sanity. Thematically, Lemieux and his bandmates—bassist George Camacho, guitarist Doug Stuckey and drummer Joe Herzog—peel back the veneer of self-delusion to expose the fork in the road. “Thrones is meant to represent things that rule you, things you worship, things you rely on or think you need,” Lemieux says. “Sometimes those things make you feel in control, safe, on top of the world like you're in power—which over time often proves untrue.” Witness lead single “Mirror”: Kicking off with gleaming Lizzy-isms, the song rumbles into a thick groove overlaid with lysergic fireworks that conjure the shaggy European movers of decades past. “‘Mirror’ is the key to the whole Thrones theme,” Lemieux explains. “It’s about looking inward to realize what's ruling you, what's consuming you, and how delusional you've been about those things. Your sense of self is so damn important, and fully facing your truths is not an easy thing to do. It’s admitting that you’ve intentionally dulled and quieted your mind to distract, avoid and run from yourself, from memory, from loss and truth. At some point, you have to face that shit.” The languid and dreamy “Mother Mary” is also crucial to Thrones’ trajectory. “If the album was a book, ‘Mirror’ would be the first chapter and ‘Mother Mary’ would be the last chapter, though they’re not the first and last track for sonic reasons,” Lemieux explains. “‘Mirror’ is saying, ‘I’m looking inward because some things need to change,’ while ‘Mother Mary’ is saying, ‘Okay, things are fucked and have gone way too far but now we have this understanding—and acknowledging things is key to overcoming.’” Thrones was recorded live in a cabin in the remote mountain community of Frazier Park, CA, with trusty engineer Steve Schroeder (a.k.a. Schroeds). “We moved in for a week, rehearsed a bit and went for it,” Lemieux says. “Each tune got three or so takes, but we nailed ‘Mother Mary’ and ‘Canyon’ right away.” Overdubs were done at the cabin, Schroeder’s Studio 3, and Lemieux’s place. The album was produced by Lemieux and Schroeder. “Overall, it’s a pretty dark record,” Lemieux says. “It's serious and leans into heavy themes, sometimes using metaphor and imagery to soften those blows, but sometimes it hits direct. It’s positive, though—and cathartic. Forever riding on the line of total insanity and flirting with mental degradation. It’s our most realized and ambitious record to date.”

Well, we're two full months into 2017 and the world continues to burn like an avalanche of flaming biohazard material sliding down a mountain of used needles into a canyon full of rat feces. But hey, it's not all bad: Portugal. The Man has a new album coming out called Woodstock.


PTM's last album came out over three years ago—a long gap for a band who've dropped roughly an album a year since 2006. And in true, prolific band fashion, they've spent almost every minute since 2013 working on an album called Gloomin + Doomin. They created a shit-ton of individual songs, but as a whole, none of them hung together in a way that felt right. Then John Gourley, PTM's lead singer, made a trip home to Wasilla, Alaska, (Home of Portugal. The Man's biggest fan, Sarah Palin) and two things happened that completely changed the album's trajectory.

First, John got some parental tough love from his old man, who called John on the proverbial carpet or dogsled or whatever you put people on when you want to yell at them in Alaska. What's taking so long to finish the album' John's dad said. Isn't that what bands do Write songs and then put them out' Like fathers and unlicensed therapists tend to do, John's dad cut him deep. The whole thing started John thinking about why the band seemed to be stuck on a musical elliptical machine from hell and, more importantly, about how to get off of it.

Second, fate stuck its wiener in John's ear again when he found his dad's ticket stub from the original 1969 Woodstock music festival. It seems like a small thing, but talking to his dad about Woodstock '69 knocked something loose in John's head. He realized that, in the same tradition of bands from that era, Portugal. The Man needed to speak out about the world crumbling around them. With these two ideas converging, the band made a seemingly bat-shit-crazy decision: they took all of the work they had done for the three years prior and they threw it out.

It wasn't easy and there was the constant threat that the band's record label might have them killed, but the totally insane decision paid off. With new, full-on, musical boners, the band went back to the studio—working with John Hill (In The Mountain In The Cloud), Danger Mouse (Evil Friends), Mike D (Everything Cool), and longtime collaborator Casey Bates (The one consistent producer since the first record). In this new-found creative territory, the album that became Woodstock rolled out naturally from there.

Remember that mountain of burning needles we were talking about Good. Because Woodstock is an album (Including the new single Feel It Still') that—with optimism and heart—points at the giant pile and says, Hey, this pile is fucked up!' And if you think that pile is fucked up too, you owe it to yourself—hell, to all of us—to get out there and do something about it.

Originally a solo project led by Toronto-based producer Josh Korody (known for his work with Tess Parks, Dilly Dally, Fucked Up, Weaves, Dirty Nil, Beliefs), Breeze has since evolved into a full band following their debut performance for KEXP Live At Home Sessions.

"Sour Grapes" is a new wave - britpop inspired album was recorded by Korody at his Candle Recording studio, at Hotel 2 Tango with Shae Brossard, and mastered by Mark Gardiner of RIDE. "Sour Grapes" marks an exciting direction for this anticipated full-length and full band follow up.

"a fun, referential mix that celebrates the idealized hedonism of his favorite records" - PITCHFORK

"a rising electro-psych artist makes a bold new impression" - CLASH

"a playful mix of shoegaze, Britpop, and disco" - NEW & NOTABLE / DAILY BANDCAMP

"frenetically fun album - energetic and eclectic" - SONG OF THE DAY / KEXP

"an intriguing ambience that meshes disco with post-punk" - STEREOGUM FOR FANS OF: Happy Mondays, Gang of Four, Wire, Gorillaz, Nation Of Language, Shame, Slowthai, Fontaines D.C.

Portland-based Kevin Palmer returns to blundar with his Best Available Technology for another release (having previously been featured on cassette). This time it’s on vinyl but still messing about with the same business of constructing and deconstructing head-nodding beats into a foggy bowl of ambience that has become the trademark sound of BAT.

Initially inspired and influenced by the sound-worlds created by Hank Shocklee, BDP and KDAY, Palmer spent his formative years combing pawn shops for samplers. This kicked off his self-described obsessive compulsive work crunching out impossibly naive and obviously unschooled jams in what might have been and continues to be an attempt to capture and document something he felt when listening to the bombastic sonic collages of early hip hop.

Going backwards in order to go forward could be an apt mantra to describe the philosophy behind BAT. Often attached with labels like nostalgia and melancholy, Palmer surely deals with the longing for that perfect time capsule of N.Y. hip hop in the 90s - but where others zoning in on that era simply imitate it, Palmer goes way further into a world of his own making.

Far removed in both time and place to the outskirts of Portland, the sonics of Palmer filters through an outsider’s perspective, sometimes offering a personal journal of the here and now via field recordings from skateparks and surfing trips.

As if one would imagine looking slightly to the left of what was supposedly going on, these tracks continuously shift one's focus. That funky feel good beat is there, but almost always just out of grasp. Palmer gives us the sound of a memory slipping away.

Yet this reads not as the end of something, but rather a stepping stone into a world of possibilities. Operating at the outskirts of genre, you could imagine anything from dub, hip hop, ambient or techno to emerge and crystalize from the haze, yet it never does. This is all those things and nothing. Or maybe it’s just some “sad fucked up funk” as Palmer puts it.

ANTI- Records is honored to share a never-before-heard album by Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse titled Bird Machine. Originally recorded in 2010 and mixed by Mark Hamilton (who also worked on It"s A Wonderful Life), Mark"s brother Matt notes "great care has been taken to archive and preserve Mark"s music.

We are very thankful for Mark and the beauty he brought to this world." Sparklehorse was an American indie rock band formed by singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Mark Linkous in the mid-1990s.

Born on September 9, 1962, in Arlington, Virginia, Linkous began playing music as a teenager. Described as an artist who "compelled listeners to heed the beauty of darkness" by Pitchfork, Sparklehorse released many influential records, including the renowned albumsn Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot and Good Morning Spider in the "90s, It"s A Wonderful Life and Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain in the early aughts, and a collaborative album Dark Night of the Soul released in 2010.

Throughout his career Mark collaborated with thought provoking artists like Vic Chesnutt, Daniel Johnston, Tom Waits, Danger Mouse, and David Lynch.

While Mark recorded in various studios, collaborating with other musicians and producers, he did much of his work in his home studio, Static King, often playing and recording everything on his own. He was "very much kind of a working-class guy with a very poetic sensibility, who was drawn to artists like himself, who worked in isolation," said NPR Fresh Air"s Ken Tucker.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce The Leisure Principle, a new solo LP from London-based bassist and sound artist Otto Willberg. A key player in the London underground, Willberg is often heard on acoustic and electric bass in free improv settings and bands with Laurie Tompkins (Yes Indeed) and Charles Hayward (Abstract Concrete), as well as the fractured No Wave unit Historically Fucked. His previous solo releases have ranged from extended technique double bass to explorations of the acoustics of a 19th century artillery fort. But nothing Willberg has committed to wax so far prepares a listener for The Leisure Principle, six unashamedly melodic improvisational workouts created almost entirely with heavily filtered bass harmonica and electric bass. On the opening ‘Reap What Thou Sow’, a single-note bass harmonica loop pulses along underneath a roaming bass solo, the side-chained envelope filtering (where the dynamic behaviour of the bass determines the filter for both bass and harmonica) fusing the two instruments into a single stream of burbling shifts in resonance. After several minutes of patient exploration of this low-end landscape, the music suddenly opens up in widescreen with the entrance of Sam Andreae’s graceful melodica chords, spreading out across the stereo field. From this epic opener, each of the remaining pieces goes on to explore a slightly different aspect of the terrain. On ‘Shadow Came into the Eyes as Earth Turned on its Axis’, a similarly buoyant harmonica bass line provides the foundation, but this time playing a soulful descending riff, its almost R&B feel abstracted and half-obscured by the filtering. On ‘Mollusk’, echoed bass arpeggios skitter between elegiac chords somewhat reminiscent of the opening of John Abercrombie’s ‘Timeless’, before settling into a hypnotic groove. On the record’s second half, Willberg pushes further into the possibilities of his idiosyncratic instrumentation. On ‘Wetter’, bass and harmonica come together into a monstrous, growling jaw harp; on ‘Had we but world enough and more time’, the subtly shifting pulsating patterns start to feel almost like a kind of evaporated, drum-less dub techno until an eruption of wheezing bass harmonica gives the piece a comically folkish turn. Willberg’s melodically inventive and virtuosic bass performance calls to mind any number of fusion touchstones, from Jaco Pastorius to Mark Egan’s singing tone in the early Pat Metheny Group—even Anthony Jackson’s work with Steve Kahn. But with its radically reduced instrumentation, The Leisure Principle is also an exercise in minimalism, and the absence of percussion gives even its funkiest moments a strangely abstracted quality. At times, its uncanny blend of the abstruse and the immediate suggests the fried pop experiments of David Rosenboom or the skewed but deeply musical DIY of 80s underground groups like De Fabriek. Both easy on the ear and profoundly strange, The Leisure Principle proudly takes its place among the most eccentric offerings on the Black Truffle menu.

The story of Existence dates back to 2016 when a group of young Stockholm hardcore heads wanted to get into some good old Cro-Mags worship. After some changes in personnel, the current line-up of deranged idiots has been paving the way for a violent future since early 2017. They currently share members with several other bands, including Blood Sermon and Speedway and are all active in the local DIY community in different ways, for example running Alive and Well Fest. With an EP under their belt in 2018, several tours across Europe and beyond, as well as appearances on such stages as Outbreak, the sound began to evolve leading up to the masterpiece that is the debut LP, ‘Go to Heaven’. Clocking in at nearly 40 minutes we don't think anyone can truly be prepared for this insanely epic body of work. From Slayer, to Merauder, to H8000, to Arkangel to Integrity, this is a masterclass in metallic hardcore songwriting by the strong beating heart of Stockholm HC. Songs that take you on a journey from a classic metallic breakdown riff to acoustic guitar sections to sword samples needed a hand that was not afraid of the complexity, leading to Jonah Falco of Fucked Up on mixing duties giving this the depth that it deserved. At times introspective, and at other times classic brute force, the themes of the lyrics are well summed up with the painted artwork by Nora Löwenberg of a face behind shattered glass, exploring the multifaceted nature of humanity and the ever changing place of the self in today’s global world. So if this all sounds like your kind of hardcore, then listening to this LP will truly be… heaven.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

Proud internet motormouth and Pittsburgh mainstay Thomas Cox finally returns with a second release on his QED Recordings label. The tracks were made in February and were road-tested over DEMF weekend. Each one, he says, was made on hardware in one take, so they have a naturally rugged edge and dynamic feel that makes them all the more real.

'Desire Paths' again betrays his love of Omar-S with its layers of grimy drums and perc and distant cosmic chords, while 'Thunderhead' has a busted drum funk feel akin to Theo Parrish's famously fucked up work. Another worthy outing from Cox, then,

Hitler Bad, Vandals Good ist das bahnbrechende Album von The Vandals auf dem Punkrock-Label Nitro Records. Die kalifornische Band veröffentlichte 1998 ihr bisher kommerziell erfolgreichstes Album, das die Single My Girlfriend’s Dead”, die Fan-Favoriten Idea for a Movie” und People That Are Going To Hell” sowie eine Coverversion von So Long, Farewell” enthält. Zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum ab dem 21.07 als limitierte blaue 1LP verfügbar.

RAR001 was featured in Resident Advisor's Best music of July list

RANT & RAVE
An enigmatic new sound is oozing out of your speakers. Seemingly self-tasked with reviving the essence of the techno rave style, Rant & Rave Records presents the world with an updated vision that sounds exactly like it should. Based in Berlin, the techno epicenter, It's a dangerous new label, unafraid to stir things up and break the rules. Run by Tresor resident and Sonic Groove recording artist Maedon, the label intends to inject some hard-hitting fun back into the techno underground. About to be revealed; EPs from Maedon, Lady Starlight, JoeFarr (of Turbo fame), and veteran industrial techno guru Mark Crumby, (aka Codex Empire, Konstruktivitis). Look for Rant & Rave records this summer at all fine record shops.


RAR 001
Berlin-based American expat Maedon (Tresor, Sonic Groove) ushers in the arrival of Rant & Rave Records with a slickly produced debut EP entitled 'Cease and Desist'. '1989' opens with booming kicks, driving mechanical percussion, and hallelujah samples interspersed throughout. The droning rave synths sound eerily akin to kamikaze dive bombers heading directly for your brain. 'Grandstand' and the title track 'Cease and Desist' continue in this direction, abundant with hypnotic electronics and relentless energy. On 'The Worlds So', Maedon shares her thoughts on the state of world current events with looped vocals 'The worlds so fucked... all we can do is dance'. Gritty, dark rave tracks for peak time workout that provide a nice blueprint of what to expect from this label. No prisoners taken.

The Search for God is a wake-up call for a troubled world that’s still worth saving, animated by a belief in the power of small connections to add up to big changes. At 10 songs delivered in a brief 15 minutes, Jimmy Whispers’ long-awaited sophomore album feels present in a way that feels brand new for the cult auteur. Like many of us, Jimmy has been affected by the pressure of the past few years. After embracing sobriety in 2019, and now as a filmmaker sharing the stories of lesser known Los Angeles community members, he’s brought his dreaming down to earth, while turning its direction even further out.

Recorded with his longtime friend Ziyad Asrar of the band Whitney (and re-recorded after a hard drive incident destroyed the original files), The Search for God was created in the wake of Jimmy’s COVID isolation, and returns to some teen influences that are out of step with the chill/lo-fi LA indie rock scene he’s found himself lumped in with. Created mostly with two vintage synths, a single Roland CR5000 drum machine, and a busted karaoke machine, it channels Midwestern emo, the Beach Boys’ Smile, subtle nods at hyper-pop production, and forgotten jewel-box era college radio of the early aughts into a pure pop sound that transcends easy categorization.

The album’s standout single—and its statement of purpose—is “Hellscape,” which packs more into a minute and 40 seconds than you’d think possible: multiple immediately-unforgettable hooks, kaleidoscopic keyboards, and a bracing reminder that even the most transcendent moments are rooted in a world full of suffering. “This is a fucking hellscape,” Jimmy sings. “This is real life / this is happening.”

That may sound like punk nihilism, but The Search for God is anything but. Every lyrical acknowledgment of how fucked things are right now comes with a promise that we can still make positive changes. Jimmy calls it “God”; you might call it Love or Peace or A Place In the Universe That Makes Some Kind of Sense.

Will The Search for God deliver whatever that is to you? Of course not. At its heart, it’s still just a really good pop album. But maybe that’s enough. For a minute or two at a time, Jimmy’s music cracks open a space where the divine can enter our lives. The utopia we’ve all been dreaming of is already here if we’re just willing to build it. Jimmy Whispers is there, ready to add his voice, whenever we want to reach out.

While Duster went into hibernation in the year 2000, Clay Parton's four-track never stopped rolling. Recorded alone at home over several years, Birds In The Ground is an album of 30-something, post-9/11 malaise. Under his Eiafuawn (Everything Is All Fucked Up And What Not) acronym, Parton hides beneath layers of fuzzy and clean guitars, his hesitant, cottony vocal disappear into noise. This deluxe pressing is packaged in a gorgeous tip on sleeve and includes the complete lyrics for this cryptic entry of the Dusterverse.

Bunny White Vinyl! While Duster went into hibernation in the year 2000, Clay Parton's four-track never stopped rolling. Recorded alone at home over several years, Birds In The Ground is an album of 30-something, post-9/11 malaise. Under his Eiafuawn (Everything Is All Fucked Up And What Not) acronym, Parton hides beneath layers of fuzzy and clean guitars, his hesitant, cottony vocal disappear into noise. This deluxe pressing is packaged in a gorgeous tip on sleeve and includes the complete lyrics for this cryptic entry of the Dusterverse.

Militarie Gun aus Los Angeles kündigen ihr Debütalbum ”Life Under The Gun” an, das am 23. Juni über Loma Vista Recordings erscheinen wird.

Außerdem kündigten Militarie Gun für den Juli zwei Deutschland-Shows mit Rival Schools an. Zuvor brechen sie zu einer Reihe von weiteren EU- & UK-Terminen auf, darunter eine bereits ausverkaufte Show in London.
Es ist fast unmöglich, ”Life Under The Gun” zu beschreiben, ohne sich in Widersprüche zu verstricken. Ist es ungewöhnlich aggressive Popmusik oder ist es ungewöhnlich eingängiger Hardcore? Ist es zutiefst intellektuell oder ist es befriedigend urwüchsig? Ist es ein verletzlicher Versuch, lebenslange Verletzungszyklen auszupacken, oder ist es eine Sammlung von weltbewegenden, absurden Punk-Hymnen? Die Antwort liegt auf der Hand: Es ist alles davon. Es ist Militarie Gun.

Donovan Woods was curious: What if he re-recorded Both Ways, his acclaimed 2018 record that won him a Juno Award for contemporary roots album, and distilled its 12 songs to their bare essence? An “acoustic reimagining,” if you will. “We started from scratch,” he says, from the instrumentation to his vocals to a fresh understanding of the heartache and regret that underpinned those songs. “There are no recording elements carried over from that album. It’s all brand-new.” Woods ended up with The Other Way, his album that brims with inspired interpretations of Both Ways that are intimate yet startling in their urgency. Released on May 3, 2019 on Meant Well, this release is a reminder of why the Canadian artist has become such a sought-after songwriter whose work has been recorded by Tim McGraw (“Portland, Maine”) and Lady Antebellum’s Charles Kelley (“Leaving Nashville”), with Spotify streams approaching nearly 90 million. You’ve always been able to hear and connect with Woods’ words. But an odd sensation washes over you when the varnish is wiped off of Woods’ songs. Somehow the lyrics burrow with even greater resonance and then linger like little smoke rings. For a producer, Woods enlisted ace guitarist Todd Lombardo, who produced Woods’ song “Portland, Maine” in 2015 and wrote and played most of the guitar parts on Kacey Musgraves’ Grammy-winning Golden Hour. Woods gave Lombardo artistic license not only to change the chords and song structures but to overhaul the arrangements with acoustic instruments and Lombardo’s luminous guitar work as the centerpiece. “I think this album draws out the pain and the darkness of these songs,” Lombardo says. “The record is about loss and failure and feeling like you fucked it up, and there’s no mistaking that. You hear every single word – and feel it, too.” Coming on the heels of “Go to Her,” Woods’ first song of 2019, The Other Way is so revelatory that it makes you wonder why he didn’t try this approach sooner. “It’s always been an interesting idea to me, especially when you’re an artist like me who inherently disappoints some people anytime your sound gets bigger,” Woods says. “But a really good song is a good song in any arrangement. It’s like a beautiful hardwood floor. You can put any furniture in there, and it’s going to look good.”

Something never heard before from man of the moment Nikki Nair (or anyone else, for that matter): Whimsical glitchpop-blues with Nikki singing full vocals for the first time on record - lamenting the 9-to-5 struggle, yearning for summer & getting fucked up on the beach.

The idiosyncratic, strangely addictive original comes with a b*nging remix from Stockholm avant-techno ledge Peder Mannerfelt going full chaotic evil mode, warping Nikki's vocals into a menacing call to arms for the modern hedonist.

Defamator is the long-time-coming debut project of 24-year-old Chloe Gallardo. It tells a story of betrayal in love and friendship and the painful reality of overcoming love lost and former heartbreak.


Drawing influences from artists such as Broadcast, Grouper & My Bloody Valentine Gallardo adds her own haunting, folk-style vocals and hyper-specific lyrics to create a sonic unique to her. A style that she describes in her words as “dark shoegaze bedroom indie pop”.

Album opener “Bloodline” epitomises this bittersweet modus operandi. 15 seconds into its dainty acoustic strum , Gallardo adamantly sulks “I’m fucked up” - the salvo of a lyric about feeling like a family disappointment. As the track lifts up into a cascading gaze-pop rush, recalling the likes of Bachelor and Snail Mail, we’re blessed with a pristine elegance that belies the song’s raging core.
“I have always written music this way.”, she says of this fundamental contradiction. “It’s funny because I try so hard to write darker sounding songs and they always come out way too pretty. So, I’ve resorted to writing the most gut-wrenching and intense lyrics to compensate.”

Written mostly during peak-pandemic times in Gallardo’s bedroom - (“you can hear how scared and alone I was.”) - the songs that made their way onto Defamator arose from a concerted period of healing. Drawing from the teachings of therapy, the songwriting process gave her the means to channel some deeply entrenched emotional scars.
This venting of anger is implicit throughout the record. The album’s title - Gallardo’s own neologism - uses the concepts of “defamation” and “defamatory speech” to innovate a kind of pejorative accusation. As a result, it is like we are actively listening to Gallardo forcefully take command of her past. Of the title track she explains: “The song Defamator is about someone who spoke untruthful things about me in order to manipulate me and the way people perceived me and I felt that was an underlying theme in most of the album.”

Recorded at Jazzcat Studios in Long Beach California with Jonny Bell (Hanni El Khatib, Adult Books, etc.) Defamator marks Gallardo’s first time in a “legitimate recording studio”. And it shows. Bell’s production is vital moving part here. There’s more stripped back affairs - ‘There Will Be Blood”; ”The Way’ - songs which gently seethe and purr like Grouper’s spectral dream-pop; Gallardo’s fluttering folk-ish voice gloriously pushed to forefront.

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

White Vinyl

The Pretty Reckless haben dem Rock 'n' Roll den nötigen Schwung für eine neue Generation gegeben, und sie haben es auf ihre ganz eigene Weise geschafft. Seit 2008 haben sie sich als die ungewöhnlichste Naturgewalt entpuppt, die in INTERVIEW Magazine, Nylon, ELLE, Good Morning America und Entertainment Tonight erscheinen kann - und sich eine Bühne mit Guns N' Roses und Soundgarden teilt. Zusammen mit dem verstorbenen Produzenten Kato Khandwala entfachten sie diese Flamme auf Light Me Up 2010 und Going To Hell 2014. Letzteres enthielt drei Nummer-1-Hits - das Platin-zertifizierte "Heaven Knows" (der größte Rocksong des Jahres 2014), "Fucked Up World" und "Follow Me Down". Nach "Who You Selling For" von 2016 stieg "Take Me Down" auf Platz 1 der US Mainstream Rock Songs Chart und machte die Band laut Billboard zur "ersten Band, die ihre ersten vier Singles auf Platz 1 der Charts schickte". Im Jahr 2021 wurden sie mit dem Album "Death By Rock and Roll" in den Himmel gehoben. Die vierköpfige Band ging in die Geschichte ein als "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die zwei Mal hintereinander auf Platz 1 der aktiven Rock-Charts stand" und "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die sieben Mal auf Platz 1 der Billboard Rock Radio Charts stand". Das Album wurde nicht nur vom V Magazine, Spin und anderen gelobt, sondern landete auch auf Platz 1 der Billboard Top Album Sales Chart. Bemerkenswert ist auch die Zusammenarbeit mit Legenden wie Matt Cameron und Kim Thayil von Soundgarden bei "Only Love Can Save Me Now" und Tom Morello von Rage Against the Machine bei "And So It Went". Diese Grenzenlosigkeit treibt "Other Worlds" [Fearless Records] an, wo sie ihre ersten richtigen akustischen Aufnahmen, unerwartete Covers und andere Neuinterpretationen abliefern und einmal mehr Neuland betreten.

The Pretty Reckless haben dem Rock 'n' Roll den nötigen Schwung für eine neue Generation gegeben, und sie haben es auf ihre ganz eigene Weise geschafft. Seit 2008 haben sie sich als die ungewöhnlichste Naturgewalt entpuppt, die in INTERVIEW Magazine, Nylon, ELLE, Good Morning America und Entertainment Tonight erscheinen kann - und sich eine Bühne mit Guns N' Roses und Soundgarden teilt. Zusammen mit dem verstorbenen Produzenten Kato Khandwala entfachten sie diese Flamme auf Light Me Up 2010 und Going To Hell 2014. Letzteres enthielt drei Nummer-1-Hits - das Platin-zertifizierte "Heaven Knows" (der größte Rocksong des Jahres 2014), "Fucked Up World" und "Follow Me Down". Nach "Who You Selling For" von 2016 stieg "Take Me Down" auf Platz 1 der US Mainstream Rock Songs Chart und machte die Band laut Billboard zur "ersten Band, die ihre ersten vier Singles auf Platz 1 der Charts schickte". Im Jahr 2021 wurden sie mit dem Album "Death By Rock and Roll" in den Himmel gehoben. Die vierköpfige Band ging in die Geschichte ein als "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die zwei Mal hintereinander auf Platz 1 der aktiven Rock-Charts stand" und "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die sieben Mal auf Platz 1 der Billboard Rock Radio Charts stand". Das Album wurde nicht nur vom V Magazine, Spin und anderen gelobt, sondern landete auch auf Platz 1 der Billboard Top Album Sales Chart. Bemerkenswert ist auch die Zusammenarbeit mit Legenden wie Matt Cameron und Kim Thayil von Soundgarden bei "Only Love Can Save Me Now" und Tom Morello von Rage Against the Machine bei "And So It Went". Diese Grenzenlosigkeit treibt "Other Worlds" Fearless Records an, wo sie ihre ersten richtigen akustischen Aufnahmen, unerwartete Covers und andere Neuinterpretationen abliefern und einmal mehr Neuland betreten.

Historically Fucked is a four way entanglement made to create short, eruptive songs and then set about obliterating them from the inside, like improvising a barrel to encase themselves in and then proceeding to lick their way out of it. It is about playing and laughing at playing, and it is about not doing either of those things sometimes. Sometimes it is to do with talking, howling or grunting, and sometimes it is to do with hitting and rubbing.
Historically Fucked contains four people, who each share the same duties, and whose names in sequence are Otto Willberg, David Birchall, Greta Buitkuté and Alecs Pierce. They are from Manchester and often other places. Guitar, bass, drums and voices keenly jostle amid the group’s frenzy of spontaneous rock throttles. Some of these rampant exercises in avant are collected on ‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’, the band’s new album, released by Upset The Rhythm on February 3rd. This is the group’s first release since 2018’s mantlepiece staple ‘Aliven Wool’ (Heavy Petting). This is Rock and/or Roll as fertilizer, uncivilised and free, as if one were to imagine what the Plastic Ono Band would’ve hit upon if they had read ‘Riddley Walker’, the sound of an entire timeline of expression put back together back-to-front, misshapen and irradiated.

‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’ is not mere Sedentary Rock but Blasted Basalt, Frog worshipping cave-funk, harmolodic hullabaloo-wop, a musical game of “badger in the bag”. It is the sound of sacks crammed full of aggregate, a chimerical mind-meld, a seductive din that is to a hound dog in blue suede shoes what a raking of the dorsal fin with a fat marrow pinecone is to a pelican in the midst of being fired from the academy.

‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’ by Historically Fucked was recorded by Rory Salter, mixed by Otto Willberg and mastered by Mikey Young. The liminally worrisome artwork was painted by John Cobweaver.

“They say these days that History is Fucked. Nothing ever dies but continues to rule the earth as an undead tyrant that cannot accept its own decomposition, look earwardly upon the dance of the proudly dead and decrepit!”

Vymethoxy Redspiders, Leeds 2022

A deranged cacophony straight out of London, England. On their debut, self-titled release, VIOLIN blend elements of Swedish masters TOTALITÄR and HEADCLEANERS with the muscle and swagger of Boston 82 and the panicked power of NYHC in the mid 80s. The end result is a Mind numbingly fast and concise pure hardcore punk that is all together contemporary, edging in at times on the learned idiocy of Toronto’s S.H.I.T. VIOLIN is the brainchild of Lindsay Corstorphine (SAUNA YOUTH, MONOTONY, PRIMITIVE PARTS etc) who has written, mixed and recorded everything on this stellar release, with the exception of the drums, here carried out by the inimitable Jonah Falco of FUCKED UP fame. Pinning Falco’s drumming to Corstorphine's vision has nailed a sound which is at once huge and perfectly audible, whilst remaining brutal and ugly in tone. There are moments of genuine innovation on display as is evident on the track ‘Empty Mind’ which begins with discordant noise, before building from a mid-paced swing into frantic lunacy, and then introducing a harrowing and unexpected synthesiser. The stark black and white artwork, carried out by Daniel David Freeman, provides a perfectly abstract and menacing back drop to this slab of primitive hardcore.

500 on clear vinyl - Pitch Shifter ‘The 1990 Demo’ - Agent provocateurs who prophetically foreshadowed the Brexit debacle with their 1999 release ‘Un-United Kingdom”. Spanning a career of over 30 years, the band released ten albums, toured 30 countries, were featured on the covers of Kerrang! and Metal Hammer magazines, recorded Peel Sessions, won Kerrang! awards, had their music featured on video games, on tv shows and in Hollywood films, played main stages at Reading, Ozzfest, Vans Warped Tour and the Big Day out Festivals, were featured in 2000AD Magazine with Judge Dredd and fucked a lot of shit up along the way! Here for the first time, the band release their original demo, previously unreleased and unavailable to the general public. The original audio has been enhanced and the vinyl includes a revisited track, that did not feature on the original release ‘Behemoth’, with vocals recorded by M D Clayden. The demo landed the band their first record deal in 1990 with Peaceville Records, where the band then forged these tracks into their critically acclaimed debut ‘Industrial’.

We, the label, asked Ben Wallers (ex-Country Teasers) to write a press release for his new album. "Press Release And Give Me The Disc as Peter said to Murphy said to Daniel said to Ash said to J said to the drummer subs please check name was it Martyn Atkins? No... scratch that please Roger, there's nothing funny about not knowing all the members of Bauhaus. Announcing the new album by The Rebel, yay! Wow! Fucking hell, great! How long is it this time? Oh it's getting on for the optimal 45 mins. Fit on side of a D90 but go bit wobbly near end of SA90. I am listening to my copy on vinyl record, it's much better than tape. That's the intro. Once upon a time there was a man/boy a sort of immature Peter's Pan type pan-pipe type who COULDNT WOULDNT grow up a bit like Keith Richards and who er where was i? The Vagina Museum is very near Maureen Paley's art gallery where if you hurry you can see some INCREDIBLY GOOD paintings/art. Anyway once upon a time it was february 2021 if that's last year or 2020 if it was the one before that, i've lost count, honestly this Covid thing is SO confusing isn't it? Anyway. Ducking fomestic crisis as usual reached boiling point again and i fucked off didn't i, did a runner, off to Turkey wiv a lih-ooh bih-uh ragarahn me ed, first of all 2 weeks on George's spare mattress, then 2 weeks in Merlin's magical tower, then a week in a fucking EasyJet Hotel with no windows, then at last my new exile retreat, Congreve Ho. Meanwhile Dad got me a new recording device the size of a VHS tape, the Tascam D-POO 8 S-E-X multitrack. Quality, oscar mike golf!! Urine for a surprise Listener/s! Ural b sayin "Y could ont he ov get 1 of these B4?" Well! Paid off the fuckin mortgage, didden Eye listenerz. Paid the fucking mortgage of. Dad said "Lets get you a reward Son! Anything name it!" Well i said ... can you fix it for me to touch Britney's hat? The one she wore for the Milkshake video. Great album. Recorded it in exile, from where i write this press release and give me the tape Kevin Haskins." And he did. Tracklist: 1. Nemo To Self 2. I’m Wok Inner Gdn.C 3. A Cretian Build-Up 4. Lays A Seamless Transition 5. A Bottle Of Timotei Hair-Shampoo 6. Long Way Off 7. Teulleodd Hapys (Dave 1) 8. I Aint Gonna Lie To Ya 1 9. Bisgeden Am Swper Eto (Dave 4) 10. Put Your Fucking Glasses On So You Can Fucking See 11. Happy Families (Dave 3) 12. Pyfgosycfs 2/Aquafauna 13. Dave Two Ukraine Nil 14. Nemo Self 2

West Mineral return with a followup to Mister Water Wet’s 2019's subtropical ambient slow-burn debut ‘Bought the Farm’, expanding Iggy Romeu's horizons to contrast feverish Afro-Caribbean ambient jazz with jaunty illbient and atmospheric freakouts. Low-lit heat that’s highly recommended if yr into Nick León, Carlos Niño, Kelman Duran, Gonçalo F. Cardoso.

Mister Water Wet continues to excavate the tropical soundscapes that simmer the producer's Kansas City home with his Puerto Rican roots, on a new album of extended vignettes and mood pieces that cross a late 90’s Mo Wax instrumentals vibe with present day feelings of displacement and ennui.

LP opener ‘Bory’ tunes us into Water Wet’s weirdly fuzzed frequencies, where tremeloed strings and found sounds resemble what might have been a lost dean blunt x dean hurley sound design concept for Inland Empire, while ‘I Saw the Green Flash' opens a swirl of strings and traditional rhythms caught in a reflecting pool of canned classical orchestrals and 1950s theremin wails. 'Good Apple’, meanwhile, cranks up the mood with aged x looped piano paired with an undulating, bass-heavy shuffle that wouldn't sound out of place on a Kelman Duran x Martin Denny mixtape.

'When Kennybrook Burned to the Ground' leans into heady jazz vapours, spreading crackle over pitch-fucked horn samples, but it’s the producer's weird use of percussion that keeps us gripped: scattering his arrangements across the grid, mimicking an ensemble of players deployed in irregular formations. Romeu embraces trip-hop on 'Any Other Time', blending Afro-Caribbean percussion with a swung downtempo beat, while ‘Isthmus’ reminds us of the clatterbox plunder of Moonshake’s PJ Harvey hookup ‘Just a Working Girl’ - with all its asymmetric hooks.

The extended closing track 'Losing Blood' takes a leaf out of Fennesz's glitched rulebook, stretching and folding disintegrating loops through an 11 minute descent into the elegiac aether.

Die lang erwartete erste Wiederveröffentlichung eines Klassikers, dessen (einzige) Originalpressung innerhalb weniger Wochen nach der Veröffentlichung am 15. Oktober 2001 ausverkauft und seitdem nicht mehr erhältlich war.

Vielleicht das dynamischste und abenteuerlichste Album, das die Montrealer Szene der frühen Nullerjahre um Godspeed you black emperor! hervorgebracht hat.

Aufgenommen über einen Zeitraum von fünf Tagen, handelt es sich bei dem beeindruckenden Debütalbum des 13-köpfigen Kollektivs aus Montreal, dem auch Mitglieder von Godspeed you black emperor!, A Silver Mt Zion und Fly Pan Am angehören, laut TimeOut um 'eines der grüblerischsten, dramatischsten, emotionalsten und eindringlichsten Alben, die jemals an deiner Seele gekratzt haben.' Auch Pitchfork zeigte sich beeindruckt und attestierte: 'ein wunderbar einfallsreiches und kraftvolles Album.'

Remastered bei Dubplates & Mastering.

Following their eponymous debut in 2007, Exploding Head is A Place To Bury Strangers’ most notable record, garnering the New York noise rock outfit critical praise and a cult fanbase. Lead by Oliver Ackermann, the band had a simple goal for ‘their first proper studio album’; “to create the craziest, most fucked-up recording ever."

Recorded at their Death By Audio studios in New York and released on Mute Records, the album was critically praised for its explorative sound, taking inspiration from shoegaze icons such as Jesus & Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine. Pitchfork described the album as “frustrated aggression, lacerating feedback… saturated with slender indie-pop melody."

The album has now been digitally remastered by Oliver Ackermann and is presented in three formats; Deluxe 2LP (Band Website & Tour D2C Exclusive), 2CD Deluxe & 1LP Standard. This 1LP 140g Transparent Red Vinyl is housed in Standard Sleeve and features exclusive sleeve notes by music journalist Tris McCall.

Frogs 11 A side 'Studios, Squats and Trucks' is an epic 'Frogs' classic. You can only wiggle and smile once the fanfare driven groove starts. This tune will take you from a cabaret gipsy step to a hektic jungle knees up banger and finally wrap its cushty dub vibes around you. This progressive yet cohesive anthem nails the definition of Clown-Step once and for all.

This huge dance floor killer is the result of the collaboration between Ed Cox (Accordion/Prog), DJ Stivs (Drum Prog), Bang Crosby (Vox), Freddyfrogs (Prog), Waynes Maslin (Trombonne), Carl Davies (Clarinette/Sax) Frogs 11 B side 'Fucked up with you' will convince any raver to stand up and dance! This hard techno banger rests on its bassline to deliver the mighty vocal 'Get Get Get fucked up with you'. The huge drop transitions from the DnB beat tand tips your rave into its darkest hours.... Frogs 11 B side 'The way to go' offers a radically different atmosphere from the other tunes on this release. Freddyfrogs explores here the tribal force of an emotional heart beat. The nagging build up reaches it's climax to fall into death itself and rebirth into the light. Let your mind wonder into its deepest corners....

Joke Lanz and Sudden Infant once again return in their razor-sharp trio setting whereby the absurdist nature that Joke’s work is already cut with is reconfigured in a gnarled and beefy punk-fucked contorted rock setting. Short bursts of angular flex are heavily propelled by depth-charge rhythms, wry lyrical musings on modern living, and sensibilities hatched from years of experience in the worlds of sound art, abstract music, industrialised junk-noise and related areas have manifested in the perfect follow up to 2018’s Buddhist Nihilism album on Harbinger Sound. Aided by Christian Weber on bass and Alexandre Babel on drums, Joke lays on a battery of electronics, loops, field recordings and samples to complement mostly semi-spoken vocals that appear like they’ve been swept from the overflowing gutters of a shopping centre into a huge ball of malaise that can only be laughed at as world leaders look on perplexed. Exactly as the title suggests, 'Lunatic Asylum' depicts a world in absolute disarray as the seams binding it together slowly fall apart to reveal jesters whose best attempts to glue everything back in place are built on bigger lies more transparent than ever. Meanwhile, citizens of the developed world turn on each other for the stupidest of reasons or grow fatter with their descent into an ignorance nourished by half-baked cultural nuggets pre-packaged and sold as great and awe-inspiring work. And everything has to be recorded, photographed and shared as brain cells are decimated by false ideals, propaganda, exaggerated lifestyles and a huge tub of popcorn swimming in indiscernible yellow gloop. Such are the snapshots that resonate as Lunatic Asylum takes some well-aimed swipes at the human condition of the 21st Century. Featuring a fantastic guest appearance by Franz Treichler (The Young Gods) on ' Il y a des Enfants', each of the 12 songs that constitute Lunatic Asylum are bold, heavy, playful and rife with surprising twists and turns Joke’s mostly English splatter-poetry helps guide into a space that’s about as accessible as the outer reaches of rock can get. In a perfect world, this is the stuff even daytime airwaves should be pregnant with but, since the world is presently tripping over its own feet more so than ever, we will have to suffice with wherever this can nudge with the help of Fourth Dimension Records. One day, hopefully, more will catch up. The CD version of Lunatic Asylum features two exclusive bonus tracks. It was released in April 2022. TRACKLIST 1/Good Morning! 2/Head 3/I Ghore Es Gloeggli 4/Mood Swings 5/Damage Control 6/Happiness to Go 7/Pain is a Pain 8/Il y a des Enfants 9/The Lived Body 10/Ah-Ah-Ah 1921 11/Mika the Dog 12/Tuba Manifesto

Repress!

Note - Sleeve says contains a bonus CD, these represses do not have a bonus CD, they have a download card.

Fire Records will be reissuing the first 3 albums by the Lemonheads, Hate Your Friends (1987), Creator (1988) and Lick (1989), featuring copious bonus tracks and many never-before released rarities and live recordings on the download card. Together, these seminal albums showcase the band's early punk rock roots and trace the Lemonheads’ transformation towards becoming one of the most successful and influential bands in indie rock. Before the 90s. Before the internet. Before Nevermind. Back when something called “independent music” first began reaching a wider audience, through college radio, word-of-mouth, and that small “underground” record store you seem to find in every town…there was a band from Boston called Lemonheads. High school friends Ben Deily and Evan Dando, Lemonheads’ primary songwriters, co-guitarists and co-vocalists, first recorded together on 4-track cassette in the spring of 1985; by the end of the decade they—together with bass player Jesse Peretz, sometimes-guitarist Corey Brennan, and successive drummers Doug Trachten and John P. Strohm—had created a body of recordings which would see them on MTV’s fledgling “120 Minutes,” beating out the Grateful Dead on college radio charts, and entering the consciousness of a generation of music fans. Cited as influences by artists as varied as Billie Joe Armstrong and Ryan Adams, these fledgling Lemonheads recordings—part rock, part pop, part unique hybrid of the 80s punk styles beloved by the band members—mark the start of the trajectory that would eventually lead to “mainstream” success and stardom for a later version of the band. But they also represent a distinct, never-repeated phase of the band’s history: one that is finally receiving the attention it deserves. Lick is the third full-length album by the Lemonheads, and the last to feature founding member Ben Deily. It was the group's last independent label-released album before signing to major label Atlantic. An odd mixture of brand-new, and considerably older, sounds, 1989’s Lick brings together the output of several distinct recording sources: six brand new songs recorded with Minneapolis-based band friend and producer Terry Katzman, and a collection of older, B-side and never-released material originally overseen by producer and engineer Tom Hamilton. The difficulties of writing and creating a new full-length album every year (Hate Your Friends and Creator were released in 1987 and 1988, respectively) are clearly in evidence on Lick. While the newest material (“Mallo Cup,” “A Circle of One,” “7 Powers,” “Anyway”) hints at promising new song writing directions for both Deily and Dando, there’s an almost valedictory sense of the past in the inclusion of versions of “Glad I Don’t Know” and “I Am a Rabbit” (from the band’s first-ever, self-released EP), and the now-classic track “Ever,” a previously-unreleased tune from the original 1986 Hate Your Friends sessions. At moments, Lick almost sounds like an elegy for itself—or an elegy for a band that has reached the end of the beginning. Also audible in the heterogeneous songs are the tensions of line-up changes—and inchoate, growing frustrations. After various band break-ups or threatened break ups (such as Dando’s brief departure to play bass for Boston band the Blake Babies), the Lemonheads convened to record new material for Lick now featured Dando on drums, Peretz on bass, Deily on guitar (and “piano,” according to the album credits) along with the addition of long-time band friend—and former member of TAANG! labelmates Bullet LaVolta—Corey Loog Brennan on lead guitar. And yet the frenzied, quasi-ironic hammer-ons of Corey’s axe provide some of Lick’s most entertaining moments—like the unaccountably-translated-into-Italian paen to 70s detective Ironside, “Cazzo Di Ferro.” (The song’s music was originally composed by Brennan for his Italian punk band, Superfetazione.) After the album’s completion, Deily opted out of the subsequent European tour, before leaving the band permanently. Jesse Peretz stayed on to record their Atlantic records debut Lovey, but left after the supporting tour in '91. Since then, Dando has been the Lemonheads' sole permanent member. BONUS TRACKS: Features bonus tracks including several never-before-released live tracks from a 1987 radio session, live tracks and an interview from the 1989 European tour, and the 4 tracks of the Lemonheads self-released debut EP, Laughing all the way to the cleaners.

In the spring of 2020, Ben Cook _ a.k.a. Young Governor, Young Guv, or just Guv _ was holed up in the New Mexico high desert, his U.S. tour having been abruptly covid-cancelled during a southwest swing. He and his bandmates were living moment to moment in something called an Earthship, a solar-rigged adobe structure sustainably constructed with, among other things, recycled bottles and tires. And out there in the serene vastness, as a short ride-it-out stint turned into a nine-month sojourn, Ben was writing music, slowly, little by little, mostly at night while the others slept. By the New Year, almost in spite of himself, he had created a new album, two new albums actually, and through the ordeal he was forever changed. In a place he never expected to be, under circumstances no one could have predicted, and in the face of physical isolation, emotional desolation, and existential dread, Ben created GUV III & IV, a collection of songs dedicated and testifying to the eternal healing power of love _ how to find it in the world, in others, and most importantly, in himself. Written in the New Mexico wilderness and produced in Los Angeles, the double album will finally be available in it's entirety this summer via Run For Cover. Young Guv's talent as a songwriter has been with us for a long time. From forming iconic hardcore act No Warning in 1998 to joining Toronto legends Fucked Up, Ben Cook started writing songs as Guv in 2008 between a slew of other projects that were ambitiously working to define the genres they operated in. When he first started working with Run For Cover in 2019, the plan was to release a single record - but with too many songs to turn away, the project expanded into his first double album, GUV I & II. GUV III & IV finds the same ambition and expertise in hit-making, but this time the individual records hone into specific parts of Guv's sonic palette. GUV III is full of iconic hooks, power-pop guitar riffs and dancable-rock songs, while GUV IV takes notes from psych rock, electro pop and Laurel Canyon jangle to make something that as a whole, can only be defined as definitively GUV

Second full length album from the Hamilton, ON punk/hardcore band fronted by Alexisonfire vocalist George Pettit. - Have shared the stage with Cancer Bats, The Dillinger Escape Plan, Fucked Up and more - Festival plays at Heavy Montreal, Pouzza Fest, Beaus Oktoberfest and more - Received a sync deal for their track ‘Punks at the Gym’ in the Amazon original series ‘The Boys’. They were also filmed and appeared in the episode.

It's hard to believe it's taken this long for a proper retrospective of legendary Los Angeles collective CVE. "We Represent Billions" is a crucial portrait of one of the West Coast's most low-key influential crews - a hydra-like collective of rappers, producers, designers and engineers who were key members of the Good Life Cafe's open mic scene, going on to inspire artists like Jurassic 5, Kendrick Lamar amongst many other. Initially called Chillin Villain Posse before morphing into Chillin Villain Empire in the late 1980s, they eventually centered around the core trio of Riddlore, NgaFsh and Tray-Loc. The crew were years ahead of their time, self-producing music without samples and pioneering a stream of consciousness lyrics that still sound fresh and innovative. CVE were self-sufficient and motivated from the beginning, named "Chillin Villains" because that's how they were perceived by white America. This social motivation was channeled into their groundbreaking performances at Good Life Cafe, the South Central session that evolved into Project Blowed and later on came to influence LA club night 'Low End Theory'. It was chronicled by Ava Duvernay, herself an MC in short-lived duo Figures of Speech, in her "This is the Life" documentary, where she interviewed CVE alongside Jurassic 5, Freestyle Fellowship, Abstract Rude and Busdriver. On "We Represent Billions", we're treated to a snapshot of the CVE sound from 1993-2003, their most prolific era. The retrospective collects music from the handful of albums the crew released on their own Afterlife Recordz label (mostly as limited edition CD-R's) plus many previously unreleased tracks and highlights their untethered eccentric creativity and sheer breadth of influence. Whether twisting twitchy West Coast electro on 'All Over Da Globe' or free associating over horror synths and foley sounds on 'Made in Chillz Ville' there's a sense that their music was just too future for its time. Assembled from heaving industrial samples and graced by back-and-forth tongue twisting flows, 'Thugs and Clips' is as eerie and hard-hitting as anything 2Pac's "The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory" full-length. Fuzzed-out and unsettling, 'Calistylics' welds an ambient synth loop and bone-rattling percussion to Tricky-esque percussion, while the flickering closer 'Unicycle' is a cross between Dr. Dre's icy G-gunk pressure and Three 6 Mafia's pitch black lo-fi funk. In many ways, 2022 is the perfect time to rediscover this music: an urgent, creative fusion of spine-tingling pre-grime electronic minimalism and mind bending wordplay that still sounds completely idiosyncratic and utterly alien. Tracks: 1 All Over Da Globe 2 Thugs and Clips 3 C.V. Vault 4 Made in Chillz Ville 5 Bring It On 6 Calistylics 7 No Feelins 8 Let's Get It On 9 Today Was A Fucked Up Day 10 Untitled (Freestyle) 11 Unicycle

It's hard to believe it's taken this long for a proper retrospective of legendary Los Angeles collective CVE. "We Represent Billions" is a crucial portrait of one of the West Coast's most low-key influential crews - a hydra-like collective of rappers, producers, designers and engineers who were key members of the Good Life Cafe's open mic scene, going on to inspire artists like Jurassic 5, Kendrick Lamar amongst many other. Initially called Chillin Villain Posse before morphing into Chillin Villain Empire in the late 1980s, they eventually centered around the core trio of Riddlore, NgaFsh and Tray-Loc. The crew were years ahead of their time, self-producing music without samples and pioneering a stream of consciousness lyrics that still sound fresh and innovative. CVE were self-sufficient and motivated from the beginning, named "Chillin Villains" because that's how they were perceived by white America. This social motivation was channeled into their groundbreaking performances at Good Life Cafe, the South Central session that evolved into Project Blowed and later on came to influence LA club night 'Low End Theory'. It was chronicled by Ava Duvernay, herself an MC in short-lived duo Figures of Speech, in her "This is the Life" documentary, where she interviewed CVE alongside Jurassic 5, Freestyle Fellowship, Abstract Rude and Busdriver. On "We Represent Billions", we're treated to a snapshot of the CVE sound from 1993-2003, their most prolific era. The retrospective collects music from the handful of albums the crew released on their own Afterlife Recordz label (mostly as limited edition CD-R's) plus many previously unreleased tracks and highlights their untethered eccentric creativity and sheer breadth of influence. Whether twisting twitchy West Coast electro on 'All Over Da Globe' or free associating over horror synths and foley sounds on 'Made in Chillz Ville' there's a sense that their music was just too future for its time. Assembled from heaving industrial samples and graced by back-and-forth tongue twisting flows, 'Thugs and Clips' is as eerie and hard-hitting as anything 2Pac's "The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory" full-length. Fuzzed-out and unsettling, 'Calistylics' welds an ambient synth loop and bone-rattling percussion to Tricky-esque percussion, while the flickering closer 'Unicycle' is a cross between Dr. Dre's icy G-gunk pressure and Three 6 Mafia's pitch black lo-fi funk. In many ways, 2022 is the perfect time to rediscover this music: an urgent, creative fusion of spine-tingling pre-grime electronic minimalism and mind bending wordplay that still sounds completely idiosyncratic and utterly alien. Tracks: 1 All Over Da Globe 2 Thugs and Clips 3 C.V. Vault 4 Made in Chillz Ville 5 Bring It On 6 Calistylics 7 No Feelins 8 Let's Get It On 9 Today Was A Fucked Up Day 10 Untitled (Freestyle) 11 Unicycle

Japanese experimental group Les Rallizes Denudes are the ultimate rock ‘n’ roll enigma. Sometimes referred to as Hadaka no Rallizes or even as Hadaka no Rarizu, each appellation a variant of the name “Fucked Up and Naked” which equates to being high on hard drugs, they are seen as noise-rock pioneers, yet sifting fact from fiction isn’t easy with their oddball tale. Emerging from the radical hippie communes of Kyoto during the late 1960s, the band was formed in November 1967 by university student Takashi Mizutani, taking the overamplified, distorted guitar of the Velvet Underground as a starting point. Early demo recordings apparently suffered from poor sound quality, leading the perfectionist Mizutani to retreat from the studio environment, meaning that most of the group’s output has appeared as live bootlegs, with the occasional studio demo surfacing as well. Performances were initially staged as part of avant-garde theatre, though the band’s propensity for super-loud noise soon put paid to such collaboration; the ever-changing membership saw Mizutani the only permanent force, despite his embroilment in the 1970 Red Army hijacking of a civilian Japan Airlines flight, enacted partly through bass player, Moriaki Wakabayashi, who defected to North Korea in its aftermath. Though perhaps not quite as notorious, fellow improvisational group, Taj Mahal Travellers, has a backstory of random international travels that is almost as intriguing as that of Les Rallizes; formed in 1969 by six experimental musicians and an electronic engineer, they embarked on a series of improvisational gigs across Japan, notably including an all-day marathon held at a Kanagawa beach, and made their way to Europe in 1971, where they crossed paths with Don Cherry and other likeminded practitioners. They later drove from Holland to the Pakistan border, acquiring santoors in Iran on the way to help broaden their already unpredictable repertoire. The Oz Days Live release is culled from the Oz Last Days festival held in the autumn of 1973, to benefit Tokyo’s Oz Rock Café, which had been closed following repeated drug busts. Here the Taj Mahal Travellers are suitably cosmic, their echoing jams featuring looped vocal chants, disjointed string instruments and sparse, off-kilter percussion; in contrast, the contributions from Les Rallizes are more standard examples of instrumental psychedelic rock, which veers more towards the acid rock end of the spectrum as the performance progresses.

The Urban Dance Squad was a Dutch noise-rap group led by rap phenomenon Rudeboy. They got together in 1986 with the original intention of creating a one-time jam-session for a festival in Utrecht, The Netherlands. Eventually, after receiving lyrical reviews, the group decided to continue and became one of the most successful Dutch bands of the Nineties, releasing five studio albums in total.

This essential Urban Dance Squad compilation showcases all of the Urban Dance Squad’s hits and noteworthy tracks from their debut Mental Floss For The Globe right up until 1999’s Artantica. This career spanning 2LP includes “Deeper Shade Of Soul”, “Fast Lane”, “Good Grief”, “Demagogue”, “Temporarily Expendable” and “Happy Go Fucked Up” amongst others.

Singles Collection by the Urban Dance Squad is available as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on translucent red coloured vinyl and contains printed innersleeves.

The disjointed space between personal happiness and global sorrow is
where Smrtdeath's new album it's fine makes its home
Written and recorded during the pandemic, one of the most dramatically isolating
experiences of our lives, the album finds Smrtdeath's Mike Skwark in a
surprisingly contented state, newly coupled up and living in bliss.'It's Fine' was
produced by Matt Malpass, who Skwark calls "fucking incredible." He's a Grammynominated producer who has worked extensively with Blink 182, along with other
artists surfing across similar genre borderlines as Smrtdeath, like Trippie Redd,
Machine Gun Kelly, and 311. His bombastic approach to sound blends perfectly
with Smrtdeath's near-spiritual use of harmony.
it's fine is loaded with amazing featured artists, a who's who in the pop punk
scene. The first song recorded for the album , "Adding Up," features Blink 182's
Mark Hoppus on vocals and guitar, and his presence brings an epicness to the
track. On "Sober," it's clear that falling in love has helped him grow up—but not too
much. Skwark calls the song, which features both Lil Lotus and Lil Aaron, the
result of "an internal conversation I've been having." It balances both the
seriousness of the subject with the fun he wants to leave behind perfectly.
"I like this album the most out of anything I've done, and I want everyone to like it
the most," Skwark says. He hopes to tour the record when the pandemic allows,
with a live band. "I want to do something less familiar to everyone, something
more like, Whoa. Something where I'm larger than myself," he says.

Nach 'Speed Kills' das zweite Album der 5-köpfigen West Londoner Band um Charlie Manning Walker (aka Chubby Charles). Produziert von Jonah Falco von der Band Fucked Up.
Die 15 Songs auf 'The Mutt's Nuts' kombinieren das Tempo und die ungestüme Energie einer Punk- und Hardcore-Band mit einer aufregenden Mischung aus 50er-Jahre-Pop-Sounds, Doo Wop und Blues.
In den Texten geht es neben klassischeren Rock'n'Roll-Themen wie Liebe und Verlust vermehrt um Arbeiterrechte, Ungleichheiten, Polizeibrutalität, Regierungsversagen und Gentrifizierung - Probleme, die in der Struktur des Vereinigten Königreichs verankert sind und in der englischen Hauptstadt noch verstärkt werden.

Jetzt erhältlich auf schwarzem Vinyl.

This record is a new era. The desire to create something larger than yourself, that will infiltrate people’s hearts like well oiled machines, to paint pictures that will shake them and create a resounding push forward towards something more. In our pandemic isolation, what we wanted was to play a loud collage of music, unconfined by preconceived notions of what it should be, and to transcend ourselves in a room full of breathing, screaming, vibrating human beings - to let the darkness out in a cathartic squeal of noise, eclipsing it with light. We wanted to feel it all at once with you and to escape this fucked up world and find our way into a better one together.

From Richmond, Virginia arrives Tempter, a soundtrack for end times hurtling along to the speed of global rage and impending doom. Merging the very best parts of crossover metal and hardcore from the 80s Japan, Sweden and UK, Tempter bring a new voice to a legendary sound. It comes perhaps as no surprise then that the group comprises of veterans of the hardcore scene from bands such as Candy, Division of Mind, Nosebleed, Ekulu and more. Instant bulldozers Sacricide and Pestilence, with their punchy riffs and wild solos bookend the S/T EP, whilst Uniformed Madness and Night Terror run along with at times almost apocalyptic walls of acidic noise. The production provides a dense atmospheric swamp of rage, mixed by Fucked Up’s Jonah Falco, providing a fitting soundtrack for Valentina Lopez’s huge vocal that sounds like 1000s of witches chanting. La Lluvia, with its use of samples and layers of synths, dances around spoken word sections that read out a poem of the same name by Roberto Bolaño, one of Chile’s greatest literary writers. Bolaño’s work fits perfectly with a biting satirical punk mood that Lopez exudes with every breath. He often questioned the privilege of making art whilst the junta would torture people in basements. Hardcore, punk and metal often likes to think of itself as a political act more than music, whether in its DIY ethic or protest lyrics. However, perhaps we find it too easy to fall into its angry embrace and eat each other alive whilst the world outside continues to fall. This music makes hell on earth that little bit more bearable, however ultimately Bolaño, and Lopez, call on counterculture music to have meaning and political action.

Foot are: Don Fleming, Jim Dunbar and Thurston Moore - vintage analogue synthesizers. This album has been Remodelled by Tim Newman and his associates from the Track 'Early Foot', which originally appeared on the God Bless Records CD 'foot' in 1998, recorded as part of the Canal Street Series at Jimbo's Pad, NYC in the early days of Nemocore, winter 1996. Liberated from the traditional constraints of time signature and key signature and fixed changes. Where sound responds to music. Tracklist Side 1 01. Late Foot (23.03) Side 2 01. Foot Resource 1 (4.04) 02. Foot Resource 5 (3.00) 03. Foot Resource 2 (2.37) 04. Foot Resource 4 (8.51) A Remodelled Fucked Up Instant Mayhem Production Side 1: Remix and additional production by Tim Newman and Whitehall Rec Side 2: Remix and additional production by Tim Newman, Whitehall Rec and Remote

BOSS BY NAME, BOSS BY NATURE. The five heroes finally follow up the Steel Box 45 (Goner) with Cash 'Em In. A disgustingly catchy yet charming ode to the lost art of picking up one lucky person and, well, chucking them over a bar. Might as well, right? Sonically, this is still hitting that sweet spot between early UK punk and glam rock n roll, and once you've flipped both sides you'll be getting ready to cash someone in yourself (and don't worry, Cal from The Chisel pops up to provide full instructions). Featuring members of Fucked Up, Rixe, Chubby and The Gang and The Chisel. The 7" is limited to 450 copies on white vinyl and comes in a fold out poster sleeve with artwork from Tin Savage.

For Memory Pearl’s »Music for 7 Paintings« Moshe Fisher–Rozenberg traveled to art galleries throughout North America searching for paintings which would enrapture him.

Like the experience of being drawn into the worlds of those paintings, these seven tracks — each one directly referencing a single work by Joan Mitchell, Robert Ryman, Lee Krasner, Helen Frankenthaler, Franz Kline, or Jackson Pollock — are love letters to the sympathetic vibration of one creative mind encountering another. They trace the way art inspires and generates art. Each resonates with the reconstructive energy that comes from translating the visual to the auditory.

One might expect a jagged, alienating angularity, given the modernist and postmodern source material. Instead there is warmth and depth of sentiment, accented by the analogue and digital synth pitch–shifts and cascades. The pieces crackle with the energy of translation: something new is created as the medium changes, mediated across the boundaries of genre. There are associations, asides, tangents as each work is »read« into its new format. There is no alienation, no cold distance: only engagement and warmth. The album’s lead track, Natural Answer, 1976 opens with sounds that feel like the gaze being caught and drawn into an intimate emotional connection with a work. Cupola, 1958–1960 begins with a thickly layered wash of sound as nostalgic as a train ride through the outskirts of a city at night, then expands into a cavernous memory–scene of personal association.

Fisher–Rozenberg brings a vast experience to bear on the paintings that inspire »Music for 7 Paintings«. While this may be his debut full length as a solo artist, he is a consummate collaborator (Alvvays, Fucked Up, U.S. Girls, Youth Lagoon, Man Forever) best known as the drummer and synthesist in Absolutely Free. Also clear is his visual sensibility — his instinct for how to translate the emotive context of visual art into sound, honed in collaborative work on kinetic sculptures, immersive installations and film scores. But what most comes to the fore is perhaps his recent graduate work in music therapy, and the sensitivity learned through his leading of music therapy sessions at Toronto's Centre for Addiction and Mental Health. This direct encounter with music’s power to heal lends the tracks a sacred, therapeutic quality. They are suffused with curative frequencies that connect the isolated individual to a world of contemplative beauty.

»Music For 7 Paintings« catalogues the energy in the gaze of a seasoned musician, translating brushstroke to sound.

Who still sleeping on the kid?! Two of the hardest working veterans in the game, legendary MC Jim Jones has teamed up with cult favorite producer Harry Fraud for the new project, The Fraud Department. Pairing Jones’ iconic delivery with Fraud’s knack for cloud-like production, The Fraud Department elevates the duo’s best attributes and showcases how their chemistry is undeniable. The album features appearances from Belly, Dave East, Trav, French Montana, Curren$y, Jay Worthy, Conway the Machine, Marc Scibilia, Big Body Bes, Maino, and Kenny Sway.

The long awaited follow up to Osaka's Hibushibire 'Freak Out Orgasm!' debut album from 2017 is almost upon us ...
 
Who are Hibushibire ?
 
821 (Hani) on bass
Ryu Matsumoto on drums
Changchang on guitar and vocals
 
It would be fair to say Hibushibire’s 2017 debut album ‘Freak Out Orgasm!’ went down well with fans of psych-rock (call it what you will). So far it’s had three vinyl pressings, two cassette pressings and a CD run back in Japan. It garnered quite a few influential underground (if not mainstream) reviews and seemed to sell through on word of mouth alone - which in these times seems to be the way things are going: thriving social media groups sharing their love of recent purchases and fellow vinyl lovers going out and scooping them up without the need to buy a magazine or read an online review to make their mind up. My favourite review of ‘Freak Out Orgasm!’ came from UK based music blog Dayz Of Purple And Orange as I think he nailed it perfectly...
 
“Fuck me! I think I've died and gone to psychedelic heaven! If anyone had asked me what I would really want from a freak out, heavy-as-fuck psych band I would have to say I would want the sheer guitar pyrotechnics of Acid Mothers Temple, the hard-as-nails scuzziness of The Heads, the lead heaviness of a fucked-up Blue Cheer and the instrumental dexterity of Hendrix on speed. Guess what, that band exists and they are called HIBUSHIBIRE!"
 
That, to me, said it all. Nail hit hard.
 
But let's get onto 'Turn On, Tune In, Freak Out!'
 
Once again the album is produced by Makoto Kawabata (Acid Mothers Temple, Mainliner) and for me it's the next logical step in the bands sonic development. As with its predecessor, side one consists of three tracks, "Ecstasy Highwaystar / Blow! Blow! Blow! / Overdose, Pussycat! More! More!", (they do like an exclamation mark). Some of these titles will be familiar if you've followed the band's live shows in recent times, and it's pretty much a guitar to the front, full gonzo-style hard-rocking psychedelic freak out from the first blast of Changchang's guitar panning from left to right before the main riff kicks it all off.
 
Again, as with their debut, side two comprises of just one epic length track. 'Rollercoaster Of The Universe' clocks in at seventeen minutes and is, in my humble opinion, the sound of the band moving onto the next level during its journey. It's a shudderingly beautiful piece, with many hypnotic twists and turns. I can't wait to hear how they play this live.
 
The band did initially attempt to produce this album by themselves, but got 'brain fever' in the studio and called their old friend Makoto to come down and help them finish it off. As he had no preparation in advance, he knew nothing about how the recording was going in the studio, and moreover there was little time left for adjustments to be made. But his technique of mixing was, as always, both mighty and almost destructive.

Game returns after their 2019 full-length No One Wins with the Legerdemain EP. Piercing the listener with nonstop aural carnage, the EP would be an apt soundtrack to the armageddon. Part Venom, part Death Side, all live and loud, Legerdemain offers no restful moments. An instrumental masterclass with blistering drumming from Jonah Falco, weird and wonderful guitar melodies conjured up by Cal Baird, and a rumbling and decapitating buzzsaw bass by Nicky Rat, the release's finishing move is an ever-changing vocal tone by Ola H. Legerdemain can be a rewarding, or punishing, aural journey depending on your perspective. The new release, which was recorded and mixed by Jonah and mastered by extreme music legend Arthur Rizk finds Game leaning heavily into their metal influences, with sounds of early 80s UK steel given extra ferocity through the lens of Japanese hardcore punk from the same era. Having toured multiple times in Europe and North America, Game, which features members of Fucked Up, Arms Race and Violent Reaction, is equally comfortable playing to punks, metalheads and everyone in between. ‘Legerdemain’ is a magician’s term meaning sleight of hand, a key skill of deception. The term is used as a metaphor for our current post-truth society where governments, technocracies, and financial institutions use smoke and mirrors to create a farcical and bewildering existence where one cannot know if something is real or not in order to cover up social injustice and mechanisms that drive inequality. As Legerdemain progresses, one is being continually dragged along towards an apocalyptic ending on "Release", which reflects on this current predicament as a nuclear explosion approaches with nothing left to do except give into the madness. There is a constant cycle of rising again, fighting against wrongdoing, exhaustion, and endings. The lyrics in Polish, English and a sprinkle of French, represent the multinational members of the band, who feel culturally in a no man’s land, which in fact is everyone’s experience in 2021. Legerdemain tries to answer this anomie with urgent metal punk that is hauntingly relevant. Check out the music video for single "Atomowa Rekonstrukcja," from NYC punk freaks D4MT Labs here

Ltd White vinyl LP w/ printed inner sleeve lyric insert (1000 copies ww)! Emma Ruth Rundle's forthcoming Engine of Hell is stark, intimate, and unflinching. For anyone that's endured trauma and grief, there's a beautiful solace in hearing Rundle articulate and humanize that particular type of pain not only with her words, but with her particular mysterious language of melody and timbre. The album captures a moment where a masterful songwriter strips away all flourishes and embellishments in order to make every note and word hit with maximum impact, leaving little to hide behind. "I really wanted to capture imperfection and the vulnerability of my humanity," Rundle says of the album's sonic approach. "Here are some very personal songs; here are my memories; here is me teetering on the very edge of sanity dipping my toe into the outer reaches of space and I'm taking you with me and it's very fucked up and imperfect.'" Emma Ruth Rundle has always been a multifaceted musician, equally capable of dreamy abstraction (as heard on her album Electric Guitar: One), maximalist textural explorations (see her work in Marriages, Red Sparowes, Nocturnes or collaborations with Chelsea Wolfe and Thou), and the classic singer-songwriter tradition (exemplified by Some Heavy Ocean). But on Engine of Hell, Rundle has opted to forego the full-band arrangements of her previous albums in favor of the austerity of a lone piano or guitar and her voice, which creates a kind of intimacy, as if we're sitting beside Rundle on a bench, or perhaps even playing the songs ourselves. It's an extremely up-close and personal confessional with a focus on the rich subtleties and timbre of Rundle's graceful performances. "For me this album is the end of an era to the end of a decade of making records. Things DO have to change and have changed for me since I finished recording it." In essence, Engine of Hell signifies a major turning point for Rundle as both an artist and as a person. The catharsis of this type of songwriting has effectively served its purpose, and to continue ruminating on the past going forward is less of a healing process and more like picking at a scab and refusing to let it heal. This may help explain why Rundle is less than enthusiastic about divulging the details about her muses, but it doesn't alter the fact that these songs served a purpose in their creation, and that they may continue to bring comfort to others.

'Deutsche Krimi passionnel' oder 'Ostalgie fuer begeisterte Kranken'? Well, this album may very well have been the perfect soundtrack of some very obscured 5-year-planned and very mentally disturbing, for truly some very fucked-up alienating D.D.R. / East German Democratic People's Republic remake of Tarkovski's old sci-fi classic 'Stalker' and that somehow, thank God, never made it to the Elevated Socialist Working Masses, for otherwise that 'Berliner Mauer' would have collapsed much earlier and certainly with a hell lot of more drastic damage! I mean, ''Mein Selbstmord! Im Monschein hinter dem Baum!'', now, what psychotic poetry of Goethean-Nietzschean 'Faustian' 'Sturm und Drang Tragoedie' and Romantic Mass-Industrial 'Todestrieb' Mantra is that? 'Das Ewig Weibliche (oder gibt's vielleicht auch Das Ewig Maennliche?) des alten Werthers Leiden in Teutobuerger Schwarz-und-buchenwaldklinik?' For this dark synth-guided croonin' could have turned into the ultimate 'Alan Vega Suicide' Project of the Soviet Bloc, its bloody very last Collective Act! Mastered by Guy Tavares.

Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy is the second album by the electropunk band Mindless Self Indulgence. The album contains 30 songs, all of which are ranked by their title, including “Bitches”, “Dicks Are For My Friends”, “Holy Shit” and “Royally Fucked”. Industrial madness mixed with hip hop and electronic rock (or, as the band like to call it: industrial jungle pussy punk) packed with crazy lyrics sang by falsetto singer Jimmy Urine. It’s a fascinating record where you’ll discover something new every time you listen to it.

Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on pink coloured vinyl.