quête:gróa

orrespondant welcome Berlin duo Hinode Having established themselves with a string of well received cuts on their own Science Fiction imprint, they were spotted by chance by label boss Jennifer Cardini on a recent record-shopping jaunt. With a raw, no-rules sense of machine funk running through everything they create, they're the perfect match for Correspondant and make their label debut with four numerical delights... 'I' lights the analog fire with raw sleaze and off-beat mischief. Unkempt and wily, it sets the tone for the entire EP: 'II' writhes snake-like with its slinky kicks and purring textures, 'III' slurs with bass groans and shakes with paranoid, alien melodies while 'IV' closes with much more of a tunnelling, sense-blurring experience. Total machine harmony, unbounded synthetic creativity, made to mix and wholly outer-planetary... Hinode and Correspondant are a match made in the stars.

Avant Garde, Repetitive, Minimal, Stoner Rock, Religious.

A french trio called France, using drums, bass and amplified hurdy-gurdy. They perform only live, in the middle of the audience - turned in to face each other - full on smoke machines and strobes. And they play only one 'song' for the duration of their hour-long set. And it's the most transfixing live experience of intense physical and mental focus. The distorted hurdy gurdy plugs France's sound into the country's history of folk music and popular festivities, of communal trance and immersive pleasure. The rhythmic basis is pretty much the same throughout the whole live. One doesn't need to actually be tripping balls for the auditory illusions to start coming thick and fast. Those who've stayed for the whole duration of their performances know they've shared something. However disparate the phantom forms each might have discerned in the midst of the howls and groans. Gigs like this you leave feeling you're not quite the same person who went in, even though you'd be hard-pressed to pinpoint precisely what has changed. One certainty remains at least, that there is still a France we can believe in. David McKenna (The Quietus). The Release: Initially released as a 50 copies CD-r in 2009, swiss Mental Groove has teamed with french Standard-Infi to reissue this classic live performance onto glorious vinyl edition. The 45 minutes are radically sliced onto the two sides. The recording is raw and the mastering is fat. The first two pressings made in 2014 and 2015 were distributed confidentially and during the numerous live performances of the band. They are long time sold out and sought after.

First complete Sonic Youth album is one of Thurston Moore's favorites. Includes live cover of The Stooges' I Wanna Be Your Dog'. Vinyl includes digital download. Originally slated to be a 7' to follow up their self-titled debut, Sonic Youth's Confusion Is Sex blossomed into the band's first album: a brain-bludgeoning, completely fried endeavor of dissonance and disarray, a perfect soundtrack for running from a chain-wielding gang near the SIN Club. This was the sound of 1983 New York City, nothing like the jangly roots of college radio rock starting to formulate in Athens, Georgia. It sounded like no one else on Earth, for that matter. The raw, Wharton Tiers 8-track production is dark, the Kim Gordon- scrawled cover figure art of Thurston Moore is dark, Lee Ranaldo's back cover photo-collage and Catherine Ceresole's crumpled-xeroxed images that adorned the inside are dark. It's an album that moves Sonic Youth forward from their first EP almost by devolving backwards into true ugly, lo-fi primitivity. The bareboned arsenal of junkpile guitars and implementation of alternate tunings was growing, and so were the songs that matched the individual attributes of each instrument: certain ones groan and growl a specific way that the band started to realize itself could become the compositional germ of a song. Herein is the threshold of a new explosion of the band's creativity, replacing the comparatively cleaner buzz of the Sonic Youth EP with guitars that spew fractured, uglier chunks of sound everywhere, held down by menacing minimalist basslines (actually played by Thurston on half of this LP, and for the only time ever on Protect Me You,' Lee) and the brutal-yet-controlled metronomic drumming of Jim Sclavunos, augmented with replacement drummer Bob Bert's notable bashing on Making the Nature Scene' and grotty no-fi live rendition of I Wanna Be Your Dog.' Hearing the crashedwindow intro of Inhuman' and subway-brake screech of The World Looks Red,' you can attest that while Sonic Youth's guitars are not quite yet being utilized in the totally controlled, lyrical fashion seen later on albums like Evol, Daydream Nation et al., they were well aware of the colors and tonalities that were unfolding and the possibilities presented. Also, they were getting a grasp on adding colors to the chaos with tempered, simmering moments like Gordon's Shaking Hell' and Renaldo's chimy, home-taped Lee is Free.' Making the Nature Scene' and The World Looks Red' even toss in glints of hip-hop vocal approach way ahead of its time, albeit through a blender. While its confrontationalism might have put off some critics, time has rewarded Confusion with a truly distinctive air and atmosphere in the Sonic discography, enough to have Moore declare it his fave along with the band's swan-song The Eternal. Brian Turner, WFMU.

a highly regarded producer and musician who used to be in the midst of the NY metro breeding reactor that spectatuclarely revived and modernized disco and italo disco since the turn of the century and added some hotliped live brass to their platters and whose sought after releases under his own appear appear much to rarely dons his house cloak and dagger for 3 sneaky new chapters on story. not wasting any time on unnecessary nicety the a-side track will send up a whole colony of ants right up your pants riding on a steamrolling percussive disco groove garnished with cut up vocals and fx trickery. B2 is another chicago style wedding of disco and house with a jubilant, string backed female vocal snippet tweaked over a heavy groove while the first track on the flip is a subterrenean, groaning dub house affair that reminds of a slowed down John Ciaffone banger. no matter which chapter you jump to here it puts you right into the action.

Having released on the label before (including a collaboration with Lake Haze last time out) Lisboa based producer IVVVO now returns to Creme Organization with a new three track solo EP. Showcasing his unique take on analogue house, here he conjures up his most unique work to date, Up first, 'Raised' is a dishevelled concoction that sees organic hand drums rattling over heady kicks, with groaning vocals, ghostly pads and afro mutterings all adding to the intoxicating brew. 'Our Journey' is then an acid flecked, lo fi techno rave up with car alarms, barking dogs and white noise textures that all come over like an urban soundtrack as much as anything else. It's captivating stuff that gets rounded out with '0000', a slurred, smeared bit of ambient with awkward key progressions, wordless vocals and tons of crunchy texture. Few people sound as idiosyncratic as IVVVO and this EP proves that in spades.