Search:god

Blue Marbled Vinyl

Das Action-Adventure-Spiel "God of War Ragnarök" ist geprägt vom Soundtrack des vielfach ausgezeichneten Komponisten Bear McCreary. In Zusammenarbeit mit der färöischen Sängerin Eivør und Pop-Star Hozier kreiert McCreary ein außergewöhnliches Hörerlebnis, mal instrumental, mal mit Gesang, aber stets gezeichnet von mythisch skandinavischer Tonsprache, um die nordischen Einflüsse des Spiels einzufangen. Bei der Marbled Blue-Edition handelt es sich um die internationale Standardversion des Produkts.

White Vinyl

Das Action-Adventure-Spiel "God of War Ragnarök" ist geprägt vom Soundtrack des vielfach ausgezeichneten Komponisten Bear McCreary. In Zusammenarbeit mit der färöischen Sängerin Eivør und Pop-Star Hozier kreiert McCreary ein außergewöhnliches Hörerlebnis, mal instrumental, mal mit Gesang, aber stets gezeichnet von mythisch skandinavischer Tonsprache, um die nordischen Einflüsse des Spiels einzufangen. Bei der Marbled Blue-Edition handelt es sich um die internationale Standardversion des Produkts.

Pablo Arrangoiz, a man of many monikers, has quite a few experimental releases as well as some dance floor treasures under his belt. His work navigates unholy experimental sounds, spooky atmospheric endeavors, clownish takes on Bach’s canons and much more. The Gurner, released under his new alias Baüzer Vep, fits the bill perfectly: it induces you in a dream-like, slightly nightmarish state, but does so with irony and without neglecting grooves.

Underground rap stalwart, Vinnie Paz returns with his seventh studio LP, Tortured in the Name of God’s Unconditional Love. The 18 track LP falls on the heels of Jedi Mind Trick’s 10th album, The Funeral and the Raven, which dropped in November of ’21, and succeed’s the April 21 release of Vinnie’s sixth studio LP, Burn Everything That Bears Your Name.

Weighing in at nearly one hour of all new music, the hard-hitting LP ranks among Vinnie’s most decorated line-up of guest appearances to date, with features from the likes of Method Man, M.O.P., Kurupt, Geechi Suede (Camp Lo), Ras Kass, ILL Bill, Lord Goat, Big Twins, Thirstin Howl the 3rd and more. To boot, Pazienza calls upon the production talents of DJ Muggs, C-Lance, Stu Bangas, Oh No and more to lay the foundation with their neck-snapping soundscapes.

Over the past two decades, Pack Pistol Pazzy has ranked amont the most commercially successful indie hip-hop artists in the underground, and with his latest solo effort his legacy is only further reinforced.

Der Soundtrack des Jagex Audio Teams zur jüngsten Ausgabe des erfolgreichen Massen-Mehrspieler-Online-Rollenspiels 'RuneScape: Elder God Wars Dungeon' (2021). Deluxe Edition mit 11 speziell für 180g Vinyl gemasterten Tracks auf orange-klarem und grün-klarem Doppelvinyl mit Wolkeneffekt im luxuriösen Gatefold. Die Musik ist abwechselnd donnernd und eindringlich, mit engelsgleichen und dämonischen Chorpassagen, stampfenden Percussions, mitreißenden Orchesterpassagen und schweren Rockriffs. Mit Vocals von Julie Elven (Horizon Zero Dawn, Forbidden West) und Eric Holloway (Doom Eternal).

green marbled vinyl

Four unrelenting tracks produced by DUEL label owner - Sept.

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.

Atlanta native Tha God Fahim has emerged as a leading figure in hip-hop’s thriving modern underground, captivating listeners with masterful street soliloquies and timeless production. Uninterested in the flashy trappings of the modern rap game, Fahim has channelled his energy into building a phenomenal catalog, blending soulful aesthetics with hard-edged rhymes. Now, the talented emcee is taking a break from his dizzying mixtape schedule to unveil the new studio album "Iron Bull".

Highlighting the power of relentless determination, the collection finds Tha God Fahim stronger than ever, elevating beyond adversity while remaining true to self. "Iron Bull" includes guest appearances by Mach-Hommy, Your Old Droog, and Jay NiCE, along with hypnotic production by Nicholas Craven, SadhuGold, Camoflauge Monk, and Fahim himself.

“You know sometimes when I’m riding in my car, just thinking about the goodness of The Lord, I wanna sing to him to let him know, how wonderful he is. Song says…. I REALLY LOVE YOU”

Uplifting, joyful, rapturous - There are not enough superlatives to describe this modern gospel soul anthem from 2006. Presented here as an extended version which gives you more of Bishop Norman’s lead vocal and extra choir.

There’s no time to take a pew as on the flip is the equally spirited GOD’S GOT A BLESSING (WITH MY NAME ON IT!)

On a 7” single for the very first time!

Huge thanks to Bishop Norman Hutchins for the collaboration.

Limited Purple, Orange & Light Blue Vinyl 2xLPGrowing up in Atlanta, artist/producer Sol Messiah was always inundated with the rich and energizing spirit of Hip Hop culture. From breakdancing at a young age, to mastering the skill of DJing, to learning the art of production, Sol Messiah's talent and hunger eventually led to working alongside legendary Atlanta producer, Dallas Austin. While Messiah's time with Austin created a deep catalog filled with timeless tracks for TLC, Madonna, Boyz II Men and more, he eventually chose to pursue his own path independently, producing a catalog of popular tracks with Chamillionaire, David Banner, Nappy Roots, Dead Prez and more. He also began a fruitful partnership with a fierce lyricist named Sa-Roc, producing numerous projects together including her groundbreaking 2020 album, The Sharecropper's Daughter. In 2022, Sol Messiah delivered his Rhymesayers debut, GOD CMPLX, where he connected with some of the finest MCs in the game to create a powerful and engaging collection of Hip Hop that was equal parts innovative and inspiring. Here, he returns with the GOD CMPLX Instrumentals, letting this impressive collection of beats stand on their own as further testament to his skills as a producer, as well as a visionary.

Repress due in soon, this one on red vinyl, note new price. For fans of Jesus Lizard, Melvins, Korn, Nick Cave, and, The Flenser. Must anticipated debut full-length from Oklahoma-based noise rock band. Multiple vinyl pressing of the band’s EPs on cult noise rock label Reptilian Records have quickly sold out. There’s a sick irony to how a country that extols rhetoric of individual freedom, in the same gasp, has no problem commodifying human life as if it were meat to feed the insatiable hunger of capitalism. If this is American nihilism taken to its absolute zenith, then God’s Country, the first full length record from Oklahoma City noise rock quartet Chat Pile is the aural embodiment of such a concept. Having lived alongside the heaps of toxic refuse that the band derives its name from, the fatalism of daily life in the American Midwest permeates throughout the works of Chat Pile, and especially so on its debut album. Exasperated by the pandemic, the hopelessness of climate change, the cattle shoot of global capitalism, and fueled by “...lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of THC,” God’s Country is as much of an acknowledgement of the Earth’s most assured demise as it is a snarling violent act of defiance against it. Within its over forty minute runtime, the album displays both Chat Pile’s most aggressively unhinged and contemplatively nuanced moments to date, drawing from its preceding two EPs and its score for the 2021 film, Tenkiller. In the band’s own words, the album is, at its heart, “Oklahoma’s specific brand of misery.” A misery intent on taking all down with it and its cacophonous chaos on its own terms as opposed to idly accepting its otherwise assured fall. This is what the end of the world sounds like.

2009 sees the verdict on Gorgoroth's trademark case after two years of dispute between Gaahl/King Ov Hell and Infernus for the rights of the band's name and logo. When ruled that Infernus was the owner, Gaahl and King Ov Hell formed God Seed, releasing one studio album in 2012. This Live At Wacken was recorded live in 2008, when the band used to play under the name Gorgoroth, with Ice Dale and Teloch on guitars and Nick Barker on drums as guest live musicians for this show. The album could not be released that year due to legal disputes. For the first time on vinyl, this edition comes in LP 140g with Gatefold Jacket, limited to 300 copies on Black vinyl and 200 copies on Transparent Yellow vinyl.

Recorded in the summer of 2020 whilst the world was in flux, the album is drenched with a feeling of freedom as Garwood and drummer Paul May sheltered from the world outside. It was, Garwood explains, “a heat soaked fever dream of our soul nectar in sonic form”. Recalling the past, gathering the elements from the present, the two artists – whose knowledge of one another’s playing is apparent throughout – work together with exquisite tones and percussive detail in this intimate recording. Garwood expands, “In the deep summer heat wave of ‘20, when everything was closed and people were hiding, I hit the road West to join my brother in music in his place, bungalow magic. We knew we had to play - for our souls, for the soul of humanity, to bring down the machine and tyranny, to invite the angels in, to save ourselves from insanity. Play we did, the guitars detuned until bee’s wings would make the strings sing. We began with the drum, and the things that shake and rattle, the drones of the heat, we sweated and we worked it until the night calmed us.This is not a lock down album, for we were free in our spirits when this was created, free from any desires to conquer and fill our pockets with the booty of success.”

In the spring of 2008, almost exactly two years after the last time they began recording, the band returned to Bogren's studio in Orebro to show there was still room for improvement with Twilight of the Thunder God.