Search:growing

repressed !

Brothers Hom Yu and Jiun Chi returned to Taipei in 2017 after finishing their studies. Since then they began to explore their mutual obsession for Taiwanese occult-inspired art and vintage superstitious imagery, channelling it through music. Mong Tong means many things in Chinese, but the translation they choose to fit their music is “the east-side of dreams”.

Growing up in Taiwan in the 90’s, the brothers listen to 電子琴音樂 which they describe as “relaxing Chinese synth pop” along with video game soundtracks, psychedelic music, doom metal and sound collage/library music. On “Mystery秘神” these inspirations combine with the dark humour of Taiwanese folklore and a love of conspiracy theories to form what they describe as “a psychedelic journey to the east.”

Album Description
Recorded in their home studio in Taipei, “Mystery 秘神” is a psychedelic journey into Taiwanese folklore combined with the 80’s media obsession with the supernatural. It’s a record that manages to combine nostalgia and tradition with humour and an underlying intrinsic earthiness to create something unlike anything else out there.

House of Harm are proud to announce the forthcoming release of their new album Playground, out December 1st, 2023. The new record builds and expands upon the three-piece’s enthralling shadow-pop sound, a mix of midnight atmospherics, 90s era jangle pop, and contagious synth drenched hooks that further elevate the transcendent vocals of lead singer Michael Rocheford. Rounded out by Cooper Leardi (guitar / synths) and Tyler Kershaw (guitar / synth), House of Harm have amassed an impressive following as something of a best kept secret among their growing fanbase, leading to sold out shows on both coasts by the power of word of mouth alone. The band members have been drawn to music for as long as any of them can remember, and the drive to be around like-minded artists and make their own noise drew them all to Boston after high school. There they all quickly enmeshed themselves, playing in other bands before meeting each other. Ever since, House of Harm have been quietly making a name for themselves among music fans with darker pop persuasions via a steady stream of releases in single, ep and album form. That attention to detail and workmanlike approach at the expense of chasing instant gratification seems to be paying dividends after years of steady effort. The journey of their new album Playground saw House of Harm stay true to that ethos. The band painstakingly narrowed the record down to an efficient 10 tracks that they felt made the most sense, both standing on their own as well as fitting into an LP that built a cohesive world for the listener to get lost in. The album’s name also reflects the experimentation and happy accidents that came about during the writing and recording process. On “The Face of Grace” they set out to explore different dynamics by writing a song entirely without drums, but couldn't help themselves from putting emphasis on the song’s 6/8 waltz time signature. “Two Kinds” is another first for House Of Harm in that it’s predominantly driven by acoustic guitar. That aforementioned vulnerability shows up in other areas of the songwriting process as well with “Two Kinds”, one of their most revealing songs to date from a lyrical standpoint, written from a place of reflection and weakness and tackling feelings uneasy to be put on display for public consumption. Taken as a whole, the end result is an album representing a collection of the band’s most raw and expressive songs yet.

Drawing inspiration from his homeland Germany, with a particular focus on the organic house and techno scene of Berlin, Sanoi has meticulously crafted Echoes Of Home to reflect his diverse influences.

Echoes Of Home finds Sanoi challenging conventional music production norms, steering clear of familiar tropes and techniques. The result is eight carefully curated tracks with a rich tapestry of ambient layers, recorded sounds, and melodies that range from quirky and playful to nostalgic and melancholic. The finely crafted drums take centre stage, emphasising the unique groove that defines Sanoi's distinctive sound.

The album traverses warm, bouncy & melodic house music, with touches of deep-house, techno & organica. While largely instrumental, the album’s centrepiece is a collaboration with Christchurch artist Beacon Bloom on the track ‘Silver’. Both artists previously collaborated on the popular single ‘Club Jesus’, once again featuring Ryan Ferris' delicate yet strong vocals. The final track on the album, ‘Moon Boy’ offers a few moments of quiet as the journey draws to an end with just Sanoi & his piano.

Created at his home in Auckland, and road-tested across multiple live performances across NZ & Australia over the past two years, Echoes Of Home sees Sanoi’s composition & production step up another level. Available on limited edition vinyl, the digital release also includes an eclectic collection of four remixes from acclaimed New Zealand artists micronism & Paige Julia, alongside German producers Gabriel Ananda & Fabian Krooss.

Over the past five years, Sanoi has become an integral part of the growing underground house and techno scene in New Zealand, all the while expanding his international presence with releases on labels Bar 25, Stil Vor Talent, Magician On Duty, and Zehn Records. Sanoi's music has already gained support from student radio stations in New Zealand and has caught the attention of tastemaker DJs worldwide

With Observatories, we see longtime Dauw-collaboraters Ian Hawgood (Home Normal) and Craig Tattersall (the humble bee) joining forces. If their debut on IIKKI was still rooted in a dialog with photographical work, the duo now offers a more autonomous work. Both being experts in the use of tape in their productions, it’s no surprise that sending loops back and forth was the starting point of this fourth album. On »autumn diffusion – winter seclusion’« we hear 2 longform pieces consisting of several tape-collages in which harmonium, voice and electronics weave together and form structures on which crackling piano sounds can do their magic. A new episode in their growing catalog and one which truly displays the strength of their collaboration.

With Scream If You Don’t Exist, Richie Culver metamorphoses from outsider musician to underground fixture, feeling his way from the fringes towards a growing community of musicians that have gravitated towards his singular sound world. Building upon the stark catharsis of his previous dispatches, on his sophomore album the artist draws from grimdark drone, industrial noise, experimental hip-hop and UK rave to map out a space for himself, caught between genre and discipline. While on his debut, I Was Born By The Sea, Culver took a last glimpse back at his grey, salt-flecked past while struggling towards somewhere brighter, here, he documents the process of finding fresh waters, parsing through the complexity of inhabiting a more open and optimistic place while contending with the weight of his resolve, staring hard won self-acceptance in the face. The album’s title speaks to this creative and emotional work, serving both as the foundational paradox from which the artist’s new discordant sound emerges and as a call to action, a defiant cry in the face of existential angst.

Part of this process involves visiting familiar territory with renewed focus. Macabre opener ‘Hottest Day Of The Year’ signals an unpleasant memory with crow caw, queasy, gas leak ambience and dental drill whir as Culver recalls a life lived in nihilism: “Everything is just something that happened / Reductionism, muscles spasms, a mother’s first contraction.” Yet, on Scream If You Don’t Exist, Culver’s irresistible formula for ragged machine poetry is shot through with palpable urgency. No longer listless and despairing, he finds new intricacies for these compositions, tracing a stark interplay between crushing bass excavations and penetrating vocal clarity, a contrast picked out in the delicate threads of rhythmic pulse suggesting themselves in the blunt pressure and skittering creep of ‘Weakness’, on which Culver offers up vulnerability as a tentative solution to self-described emotional constipation: “Please do / Do take my kindness for weakness / For I am weak / And that is ok.” The amniotic soundscape of ‘YOLO (then u die)’ gives way to depth charge drone and unnerving machinic improvisations, like a noise show heard from deep in the Mariana trench, while on ‘Underground Flower’ the low-end fog lifts to reveal a brighter, colder scene. “Love me for who I could be / Not who I am,” he pleads, tending gently to his own tenacious bud.

Scream If You Don’t Exist gives us a glimpse of this flower in bloom. On the album’s cursed self-help tape title track stuttering loops of off-kilter keys and childlike repetition make light of the very real risk of disappearing all-together, a nervous breakdown rendered as a malfunctioning nursery rhyme. Paranoiac anthem ‘Say 4 Sure’ introduces bit-crushed boom-bap stomp, as though hammered out on a water-logged Game Boy, swarms of loose-wire noise sparking up against guttural grunts and ragged exhalations, while ‘On The Top’ enacts a seance for the hardcore spirit, with loops of rave piano and hiccuping vocal chops pirouetting through knackered samples, air raid sirens and the ghostly crash of breakbeat cymbals. As though in response to the solitary nature of much of his musical exploration, this time, the artist invites other voices into the world of Scream If You Don’t Exist. On ‘Swollen’, the unflinching, brimstone prophecy of Billy Woods sounds clear through an expanse of spirallic bass, preaching the same frayed gospel as Culver when he issues the quietly devastating contemporary diagnosis: “Computer broke but it still works for now / That’s the best you can say for most of us anyhow,” while another fearless correspondent from the fringes, Moor Mother, brings earthbound heft to the ambient drift and obliterating barrage of ‘Restaurants,’ teasing out meaning with elongated intonation and pitch-shifted intensity.

It’s during the album’s most meditative moments that we might recognise this space Culver has found for himself for what it really is. ‘OMG They’re Gone’ follows a chopped and slowed monologue from Culver’s wife, who works as a death doula, reflecting on her own experiences with grief and the reality of living within a culture both terrified and ignorant of the process. Floating over glistening ebb, etherised croons and luminous chimes, her words stand as a prescient reminder of the power of ephemerality. Just as Culver flourishes in imperfection, here we can find enormous strength in transcience. But it’s with ‘Just Jump In,’ which unfurls like a buoyant counterpart to the sparkling oil rigs of ‘I was born by the sea’, that Culver illuminates the hopeful waters we realise we’ve been making our steady way towards. “I know now / That you loved me,” he admits, a revelation a lifetime in the making. Through the rawest reflection Culver has found a way forward, driven by an optimism drawn from a resolve to be better, to love and be loved, an admission to weakness and the discovery of a new kind of strength. “Don’t test the water,” he reassures us and himself, “just jump in.”

Scream If You Don’t Exist will be released in November 2023 by Participant, on limited edition vinyl, and digital download . The release will be accompanied by a series of films directed by Mau Morgo, Josiane M.H Pozi, William Markarian-Martin, Simon Bus, and Bruxism.

Gloam is the highly anticipated sophomore album from alternative folk band MAYBEL. Similar characteristics from their debut, Gathering, are carried forward: elegant harmonies, soft instrumentals and a shared optimism coupled with a wide open vulnerability. The songs still echo the intimacy, warmth and closeness of their relationships, yet the band has matured. MAYBEL's evolution shines through with ambitious compositions, thoughtful songwriting, and a deeper understanding of themselves as the album’s themes pierce with growing pains, anxieties and hopes for change. It’s a record about movement and stopping; the ongoing act of coming apart and coming together. Gloam is for listening in your bedroom or in transit, missing friends, on your way to see them. It holds an optimism that rings clear yet nestles and dwells in a brooding, muddy darkness - placing it firmly in the illustrious Canadian folk canon. This is the first album for which all four members (Fez Gielen, Ali Hendra, Loris Kecaj and Lauren Spear) wrote songs. For the most part, they were written during the pandemic separately and then shared in the upstairs living room where Lauren, Ali and Loris used to live together. The result is a shared diary on love, grief and moving on. The band's ability to effortlessly blend traditional folk elements with modern production techniques is reminiscent of the collaborations between Emmylou Harris and Daniel Lanois. Just as Harris and Lanois brought a fresh perspective to country music, MAYBEL embraces experimentation in their sound without compromising the warmth and intimacy inherent to folk music. As with their debut Gathering, MAYBEL recorded Gloam with producer/engineer Jonas Bonnetta at Port William Sound in Mountain Grove, Ontario. Resonating with a sound borne of the studio’s deeply intimate rural environs it is no wonder the band chose to return. Here they were joined by Eliza Niemi on bass/cello, Caylie Runciman on bass/drums with Jonas adding synths and percussion. Gloam is an old Scottish word for twilight. It appears like a fantasy between the day and night, a time seemingly frozen, drifting, or ignored all together. Gloam is the mood and time within which the album takes place. MAYBEL describes it as being: “In transition, between sleeping and waking—a quiet underworld where one is alone with their thoughts, in true presence with the in-between.” The final track on the album, “For Nothing”, captures something of the album’s twilight hope. It begins with lilting solos and gracefully builds in energy and color. MAYBEL sings to its listeners, “All that work for nothing” with a buoyancy and radiance that chimes against the lyrics. They repeat: “All that work for nothing”. For all of the band, the last few years have resulted in significant change and stress. Yet they continue to try, through their music, to will themselves towards optimism. They ask for you to marvel with them at the charming and terrifying possibility of life. They harmonize again, not despairingly, but almost ecstatically “All that work for nothing!”

On his album NEGRO DELUXE Siifu trades in soulful rap for punk, fueled by the Black experience in America followed by spiritual jazz and poetry. A beautiful chaotic collage of sounds that reflect the black man’s thoughts on the day-to-day. It doesn’t take long to reach the heart of NEGRO, Pink Siifu’s new album. It’s an aggressive collection of hardcore punk and free jazz, with bold lyrics that encourage shooting back at trigger-happy law enforcement. This album profoundly communicated the anger of an African-American community beset by police violence a month before the murder of George Floyd lit the streets on fire. In April 2021, he revisited the project with NEGRO DELUXE, which doubled the length of the original.

Pink Siifu tells Bomb Magazine “after we were done mastering and mixing, Zeroh was like, “Yo, NEGRO is like fire, and NEGRO DELUXE is like smoke….So I would characterize NEGRO DELUXE as, like, after you’re angry, after you’ve punched a wall, after you beat somebody up, whatever, how do I channel that into something else? How do I just let it go? I feel like NEGRO DELUXE is that, for real, in a nutshell. It’s like the chaos calmed down after all the fire’s gone and the smoke is in the air.”

It isn’t anything like ensley, Siifu’s breakthrough 2018 LP. Where that record used mid-tempo soul and hip-hop to score his upbringing, NEGRO is a riotous mix calling for Black revolution. It’s also the most fearless project in his growing discography. NEGRO harkens back to 1992, to Ice-T’s thrash metal band Body Count, song “Cop Killer”.

This album is meant to remind us of Rodney King, Racist Cops, The Black Panther Party, and Christopher Dorner, the ex-L.A. police officer who, in 2013, went on a violent shooting spree against his former colleagues and their family members due to seeing his own policeman violate the people there supposed to be protecting. “It’s about America, It’s about the trauma that comes from the flag. It’s about understanding that it’s okay to be angry.”

In the album, originally titled ‘To Be Angry’, Siifu started crafting NEGRO after listening to old Afrocentric jazz and watching clips of novelist and poet Amiri Baraka and civil rights activist Stokely Carmichael, reading Sun Ra’s sci-fi poetry book, The Planet Is Doomed, and started studying Bad Brains, June Tyson, Death, Ras G, and many others.

Gombloh’s forgotten masterpiece

What if you have Brian Wilson and Bruce Springsteen rolled into one? And what if he came of age as an poor buskers in in Surabaya, Indonesia, but then summoned enough strength to record six albums that flew in the face of everyone in the country’s rock scene back in the early 1980s?

Genius, be they Brian Wilson or Soedjarwoto “Soemarsono” Gombloh, don’t conform to rules written for us mere mortals. They have their own way of doing things and in the case of Gombloh, writing music, conducting recording session and spending cash from his music, must be conducted on his own terms and his terms only. Studio time was expensive back in the early 1980s, yet Gombloh could be three-hour late for his session, and while engineers, session musicians and producers were jittery about the prospect of another botched session, Gombloh took his time for a nap before the recording begun.

Yet, some of his greatest works came into being in the wake of this napping session. Recording session for Sekar Mayang is no exception, despite the fact there’s foreboding sense of doom with Gombloh being unsure about the possibility of selling enough units to help his label break even. This is, after all, this is his last record with his band Lemon Tree’s. No one knew that Gombloh was operating with all his cylinders running and what came out of this Indra Record session, in the waning days of 1980, were some of the best compositions ever committed to magnetic tapes (to wax, if now you’re holding this on vinyl).

This is Gombloh at the peak of his creative genius. You can argue that his debut album Nadia & Atmospheer (what’s with the spelling mistake?) is the most sprawling and complex album (both sonically and thematically), but Sekar Mayang certainly had the best songs and I can make the argument that this album’s 10 songs are strong contenders for biggest hits in blues, country, psychedelic rock charts. “Prahoro & Prahoro” is one of those impossible song which appears to have sprung from a bottomless well of inspiration, encompassing King Crimson’s sprawling epic, Deep Purple’s deepest blues and Genesis’ most progressive tendencies. Or “Sekaring Jagat”, which begins as Lennon-McCartney lullaby before launching a thousand ships traveling to the end of the rainbow with children choir singing heavenly melodies backed by droning harpsichord and synclavier, while a buzzing Hammond B3 tightly locks with Gombloh’s guitar strumming.

For many of his fans, Gombloh is known as generous man of the people. A Robin Hood type if you please. He spent his royalty checks to buy foods for beggars and buskers and dish out some more to buy undergarments for Surabaya’s prostitutes. In Sekar Mayang, Gombloh went full Springsteen mode in “Mitra Becakan,” a social commentary that cut so deep you can end up with tears in your eyes and lump in your throat (even if you don’t understand any of its Javanese language lyrics). This is one the most devastating social commentary ever recorded for a pop song, and even if you discount the greatness of its musical composition, you chalk this up as a great social-realism poetry. His years of hanging out with pedicab drivers, street vendors and street-bound prostitutes certainly gave him enough insight into their (in)human condition.

Yet, a record this stellar was largely forgotten. First, this record was a flop upon its release in 1981. Indra Records reportedly only did one pressing on cassette tape and be done with it. For those who were lucky enough to have come across one of songs from this album on the radio were likely growing up in East Java, where Gombloh had a massive cult following early in the 1980s. Nothing was heard from this record again.

There were only a handful of cassette tapes from the first pressing found on second-hand market and I recently stumbled upon one online with a price tag of Rp 50 million (US$3,500). It’s no longer available now.

In Sekar Mayang, Gombloh harbours an obsession for a long-lost utopia, Java’s distant past, where farmers have their barn full of rice and corn, where blacksmith working around the clock making tools and children singing and dancing in their seminaries. Or the fact that he opens the song with stanza from Serat Weddhatama, arguably the most monumental poem in neo-classic Javanese literature, could be his pledge of allegiance. The question for him is should a modern-day Indonesia, rife with poverty, corruption and environmental degradation not be an anathema to that utopia?

In the end, you don’t need to be someone fluent in Javanese to enjoy this majestic record. And if this record turns out to be the last in Elevation Records catalogue and we shut down this label tomorrow, we will be very happy. Mission accomplished!

Most of Gen X-ers who grew up in the mid-1980s Indonesia must have seen Soedjarwoto Soemarsono, known with his nom de guerre “Gombloh” performing on a state-run television station, playing some of his biggest hits from that era, pop gems like “Kugadaikan Cintaku (I Pawn Off My Love)”, “Setengah Gila (Half-Crazy).”

But of course, it is not fair to judge Gombloh only from these hits. Dig deeper and you will find buried treasure in his early stuff from Indra Records, and there are many of them.

His album with the band Lemon Tree’s Anno ‘69 (yes, that’s the name of the band) is all remarkable, but what he did for Chandra Records was no less spectacular. How can you go wrong with songs like “Kebyar-Kebyar”, the unofficial national anthem for Indonesia, dan “Berita Cuaca” one of the better epic songs in a catalogue full of epochal songs? These were all long out of print and in our journey to source the original master for these albums we met Bob Djumara of Nirwana Records, the Surabaya, East Java-based label which broke Gombloh into the mainstream in the mid-1980s. Almost all albums Gombloh recorded for his early labels, Indra Records and Chandra Records were critically acclaimed, but commercially they bombed, big time. Nirwana Records came up with an ingenious plan. What if they recorded Gombloh performing live and release it as is. After all, the first song in Gombloh debut record Nadia & Atmospheer is him strumming on his guitar backed by the cheering of a crowd, who could be heard going wild when he hurled that epithet “bastard” at the end of the song

The end result is a brilliant recording which despite being recorded live the sound quality so pristine leading many to doubt the claim of being live. Regardless, Nirwana shipped a decent number of units and Gombloh could buy his first car, a Katana Jeep, with money from the royalty.

One of the best things about Live Gila is its perfect sequencing, beginning with Gombloh’s social commentary on the rich’s debauched lifestyle of preying on young boys and girls, one of the most popular subjects allowed by the censoring machine of the New Order authoritarian government. The second song “Untuk Persada” is a soaring ode to the nation. For this song, Gombloh could be heard drawing his inspiration from The Police, which was undoubtedly popular in the early 1980s, even in a faraway port city like Surabaya.

Listening to this record as a whole (we omitted the last song from the original master tape “Bagimu Negeri” which sounds too jingoistic), we could not help but point to some of similarities it has with Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks. Not a single composition in this record sound indigenous (the Malay-influenced rock of Panbers or Koes Plus come to mind); they all sound modern and effortlessly catchy, and had it not been for the language, this album could be mistaken for a musical output from someone growing up in Laurel Canyon or Southern France.

There are only limited copies of vinyl records in the second-hand market today available for Gombloh music, if at all. For his ardent fans, they have to scavenge for old cassettes to continue to be able to enjoy his music and have to pay top dollar for that. In Indonesia, where he was a superstar in the early 1980s, Gombloh was largely forgotten. With this project, we can only hope that the time is ripe for Gombloh to reemerge and now, more than ever, his music could speak to a bigger audience.

English indie rock group Black Box Recorder formed in London in 1997 and featured Sarah Nixey, Luke Haines (of The Auteurs), and John Moore (of The Jesus and Mary Chain). Their debut album, England Made Me, was released on Chrysalis Records in 1998. The album was named after the eponymous Graham Greene novel and fuses indie rock and easy-listening pop stylings with lyrics that explore life and the experience of growing up in England. Pitchfork's Michael Sandlin described the sound of the album as \"mildly morose but slightly tongue-in-cheek Sylvia Plath-meets-Paul McCartney pop sensibility\". England Made Me remains a high point in the band's catalogue with standout tracks including 'Kidnapping An Heiress', 'Girl Singing In The Wreckage', and the single 'Child Psychology' which was recently back in the spotlight with a viral moment on social media after being championed by Billie Eilish. This new anniversary edition has been curated with the assistance of the band and features a newly remaster version of the album, along with a bonus 10\" vinyl that includes six b-sides, 4 of which are first time on vinyl. All audio has been remastered from the original production tapes by Phil Kinrade at AIR Mastering and and cut by Alex Wharton at Abbey Road Studios.

Good Lovelies' first performance as a trio was on December 15th, 2006 - it was a collection of originals and Christmas material, and Toronto-based Caroline Brooks, Kerri Ough and Susan Passmore had no sense yet of the long career that lay ahead. To honour the anniversary of their debut performance, Good Lovelies continued presenting Christmas-themed shows, and what started as a single performance became an annual holiday tour. With a growing catalogue of seasonal material, in 2009 the band decided it was time they made a record. The unusual heat of that May had an interesting effect on the project, and as the band got into the spirit, they wound up with the 12-song collection "Under The Mistletoe" - which includes classics like Santa Baby, Silent Night and Blue Christmas, to swingers like Mele Kalikimaka and Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, as well as three originals written by Good Lovelies. "Under The Mistletoe" remains one of Good Lovelies most popular titles to date, and now, fourteen years after its initial release, fans are being treated to a fresh pressing on limited edition red vinyl. The release comes just in time for Good Lovelies annual holiday tour which has become a Christmas tradition for thousands of fans at home in Canada.

In the corner of your vision, there’s a daydream on a mission” says Russell Edling in the beginning of “Park (Rye)”. Humming vibrations crescendo around the words floating inthe air and a listener may visualize a flower growing in fast motion, or a dog running backwards, lava flowing, children jumping rope in the evening sun. Suddenly these visions plumet and new frenetic images appear as drums, percussion, and full accompaniment burst into space. The band has arrived, a theme recurrent in Golden Apples’ new record, Bananasugarfire.

A listener might hear echoes of the Velvet Underground, Stereolab, Stone Roses, Yo La Tengo, but there is more going on than just a studied homage to indie rock’s progenitors. The themes of doubt and bewilderment found on previous albums are still present, but they are thrown into a kaleidoscope with beams of positivity, hope, and optimism.

Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

Australia post-punk duo The Native Cats - bassist Julian Teakle and singer and electronics operator Chloe Alison Escott (who released solo album Stars Under Contract via Chapter in 2020). Spiritual forebears to the current wave of speak-singing post-punk a la Dry Cleaning and Sleaford Mods, The Native Cats have grown a sizable cult following from their home in Tasmania (Australia's remote and chilly island state) since the late 2000s. Their minimal bass and drums rumble is offset by Chloe's lyrics which twist, confound and linger. The band have toured the US and played Memphis' legendary Goner Fest, been written up by the likes of Stereogum, NPR and Brooklyn Vegan, and performed at the Sydney Opera House. In 2020, they were riding a growing wave of recognition and admiration following their best run of records to date, culminating in killer double A-side single Two Creation Myths. But the pandemic and Australia's extended lockdowns brought with them a period of intense loneliness, isolation and despair. Chloe's confidence as a lyricist, singer and performer was at an all-time low. Even in those low times, the apparition of Native Cats LP #5 just kept on calling out. Julian never stopped recording instrumental demos and emailing them to Chloe. Chloe never stopped writing, and even began revisiting lyrics that had previously felt too raw or revealing to include.. Small moments of inspiration grew into more substantial ones. The band committed to weekly songwriting sessions, started to accept invitations to perform again, and had crowds fall instantly in love with their new songs. Recorded with producer Ben von Fürstenberg, The Way On is the Way Off takes a meticulous, painterly approach to the band's heavy, scorching songs. Every element is chosen for its thematic resonance and emotional impact. Chloe's lyrics arise from deep-rooted trauma and identity issues she is finally facing head-on, as well as reflections on post-punk history and lineage - the title of the album is drawn from the rules and principles David Thomas wrote for his band Pere Ubu. With the setbacks and self-doubt now a distant memory, The Way On is the Way Off is everything The Native Cats believed it could be when its completion seemed impossible, and everything they have been working towards since the day they began.

This brand new EP from the Cornish improv noise / post-rock / shoegaze trio is their first release since their acclaimed second album Sleepover, which came out at the end of 2021. It features two long tracks and vocals from their Sonic Cathedral bandmate Lorena Quintanilla from Lorelle Meets The Obsolete. “One of our recording sessions resulted in a couple of tracks that had a very different energy to what we’ve recorded to date because there was less of a motif-based approach to them, which made them kind of scenic,” explains Mildred Maude guitarist Matt Ashdown. “We felt like they were the best opportunity we’ve had for doing a collaboration. We’ve played a few shows with Lorelle Meets the Obsolete and really clicked – we love what she does in that band and also as J. Zunz – so we asked her to do both tracks. It feels completely right – a natural pairing.” “I love collaborations and this one was really special,” adds Lorena. “I feel honoured to be part of this EP. I always enjoy seeing Mildred Maude, I feel that one can grasp eternity during their sets. With ‘Half The Sky’, the vocal melody and lyrics came out immediately, I felt like I was in a room jamming with them and everything was slowly flowing and growing. As for ‘Shifting’, it was another story. It is such a beautiful song, and I didn't want to mess it up. They liked one of the takes I sent, so I kept on that track for the first part and for the end I looped vocals on my DL4.” “Vocals change everything and give it a different air of completeness, but Lorena understands our music, so she was able to maintain its looseness,” concludes Matt. “We’re stunned by what Lorena has done; she’s given both tracks a different life

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

Legendary UK dance act return with their first new album in over a decade

House music would sound very different without the work of X-Press 2. For the last three decades, they have been serving up a broad spectrum of music ranging from catchy, to anthemic, to moody and atmospheric.

Having won an Ivor Novello award for their hit ‘Lazy’ (feat. David Byrne), and even had their music synced by fashion house Givenchy, they have always showed evolution, shown in their 4 previous studio albums having set the tone with singles ‘You Know (Everybody)’ and ‘Muse’, anticipation is growing for this special double LP

A tech company's "senior spirit guide" finally comes to the defense of the "financially unsuccessful" Vincent van Gogh; wonders of the natural world are reimagined as "muster points for brainstorming innovators"; the "artificial char lines" on fast-food burgers are cited as if signs of the apocalypse. For the better part of three decades, Aesop Rock has used the syntax of the moment to pinpoint the fault lines in that moment's supposedly solid foundation. With his tenth album, Integrated Tech Solutions, Aes wields insidious corporatespeak as a tool to pry that parasitic worldview away from the parts of life that truly matter. A concept album about an organization offering "lifestyle- and industry-specific applications designed to curate a desired multi-experience," Integrated Tech Solutions picks apart the charlatan language that hears app inventors put themselves on continuums starting with cavemen and continuing through da Vinci. On "Mindful Solutionism," the wheel evolves seamlessly into modern agriculture - and then into atomic bombs, Agent Orange, cigarettes, and surveillance cameras. In a rare moment of transparency, the engineers Aes give voice to sum up this spiral in just a few words: "We cannot be trusted with the stuff that we come up with." Appropriately, the album sounds like the past and future at once. Largely self-produced, Integrated Tech Solutions catches Aes at his leanest and most innovative, leveraging "SolutionismÖs careening bounce against the wistful "By the River" or the slow creep of "Salt and Pepper Squid." The effect is a record that sounds itself like an organism growing, mutating, hurtling toward profitability - and then destruction. As fans have come to expect, Aes is cuttingly funny and slyly profound at once, whether recounting a childhood restaurant run-in with Mr. T ("100 Feet Tall") or quipping, on "Pigeonometry," that "white dove is a pigeon - you motherfuckers is bigots." At the same time, Integrated Tech Solutions is working on another parallel project: tracing the sprawl of modernity and cutting directly to its core. "I've been doing laps of the lost worlds," he raps on "All City Nerve Map," sounding at once wearied and reinvigorated. "I can draw a map to the raw nerve."

“A piece of music never truly comes to An end. Revisiting a theme illustrates this idea that life goes on.” These are the words of Wayne Shorter, uttered in 2018 upon the release of Emanon, his final opus. On this record, the octogenarian uses dusky hues to shade in the passions of his youth - drawing and science-fiction, as well as the causes he has defended all his life - the fight against ecological upheaval and structural racism. This sentiment did not fail to resonate with Julien Lourau, who has reached a stage in life where he has begun to look back over certain pages written by the man he has always considered one of the masters of his trade. Five years later, this Parisian native has also chosen to revisit his glory days, offering reworked versions of specific tracks composed by his titular elder throughout the 80s. “When I play this music, I find myself back in my teenage bedroom. These are my standards, and they remind me of autumn in Rambouillet.” At that time, after practising his scales, Julien would also play Dungeons & dragons, and immerse himself in SF as well as heroic fantasy - epic influences which are not without a certain connection to the dreamworlds Shorter conjured up, as another fan of landscapes beyond the grasp of reality.

This album features four themes taken from Atlantis, which came out in 1985, and two from Joy Ryder, released three years later. To these, he has added a composition penned at around the same time for Sportin’ Life, the penultimate LP by Weather Report. This is rounded off by a tune taken

from Native Dancer, the record which, ten years earlier, in 1975, brought together this saxophonist who learnt his trade alongside Art Blakey, before joining Miles’ second quintet, and Brazilian Milton Nascimento.

“Between Native Dancer and Atlantis, Shorter did not release anything under his own name, but he took the time and care to really perfect his writing. Upon his return, he injected a very Brazilian form of subtlety into his compositions, especially rhythmically. And from a harmonic point of view, these themes are extremely sophisticated, and reveal truly singular colours. In fact, he decided to display the score as if it constituted the liner notes of Atlantis.”

Julien Lourau is a fan of every Wayne Shorter era, from his Blue Note days, where Mr Gone defined the bases of a truly unique repertoire, all the way to his final quartet - a reference like no other. He decided to focus on this “highly electric” period, which is not necessarily Shorter’s best known, nor his most widely appreciated - despite being a unanimous reference, Shorter has nonetheless never had a direct descendent. In Lourau’s line of sight there lies a desire to focus on typically South American tonic accents which characterise this repertoire, twinned with the ambition to switch up their actual sound “by attempting to open up onto a production highly influenced by eighties fusion". However, he admits that modifying the structures of these most unique of worlds constituted a fresh challenge. “There’s this labyrinthine harmonic system where you’ve no idea how it holds together, but where it’s actually impossible to touch the slightest element without the whole edifice wavering. It is in fact a very difficult thing to achieve!”

In order to successfully transcribe all this creativity free of obstacles, Julien Lourau once again called upon the help of Mathieu Debordes. From January 2023 onwards, Mathieu endeavoured to break down all the musical elements, on paper, before creating any actual music. The record was therefore constructed on the faith of these scores, without necessarily transiting through a creative residency - just two live gigs, to make sure the setup worked. Besides Mathieu Debordes and his synthesisers, Julien Lourau has assembled an ad hoc team by his side. On the bass, according to the track, we can hear erstwhile companion Sylvain Daniel or a new acolyte on the fretless bass, Joan Eche Puig.

Stéphane Edouard, on percussion, even dives headfirst into an unlikely proto-rap of sorts, on Pearl On The Half Shell (where, on the original version, Bobby McFerrin adjusted his interventions in a rather madcap style). Aesthete and drummer Jim Hart as well as pianist Leo Jassef also figure on this release - both were present on previous project devoted to label

CTI. “At sixteen, I wanted to sound like Michael Brecker rather than Ben Webster - that was equated with modernity in those days”, adds Julien with a smile, as for him, all this rings out a little like a logical next step, a joyful immersion into the fountain of youth. And if, for this record, he plays the soprano more than ever, the saxophone Shorter set in his sights on, he never tries to replicate an unattainable ideal note by note. What would be the point?

“Wayne Shorter is not just a saxophonist’s saxophonist. In fact, I don’t know a single person who has risen to challenge of his solos. I have not done it myself either, but on the other hand, I have retained a lot of his phraseology. His way of approaching the instrument reveals a more evanescent language, a work on colour and shape. Keeping this in mind has allowed me to gravitate towards certain elements, that in hindsight, I find echoes of in my work, even in Groove Gang.” Shorter etches out these phrases, creating a groove within which Lourau had traced subtle punctuation, managing, from a highly written base, to create fresh apertures, promises of a great escape. Emblematic of this standpoint, his regal version of Ponte de Areia, originally a wonderful dialogue between Milton Nascimento and Wayne Shorter. Here, the Frenchman takes liberties with the original melodies, without ever growing distant from the original spirit, extending one section with delicacy, offering a rubato development and then a groove “like a little suite”. Julien Lourau also renews with an accomplice from last century, Magic Malik, who lends his high-pitched vocals to the track. Though they had not recorded together for more than twenty years, the two of them got on as if they had only ceased collaborating yesterday, everything flowed naturally. The track was wrapped up in just one take, much like other themes, such as opener Who Goes There where the flautist deploys smooth, enchanted and smoky wisps.

Fundamentally, reflecting of the sleeve which features a child playing with a ball, image that could symbolise the sun just as much as the moon, Julien Lourau manages to translate the ambiguous candour which characterizes Shorter’s work - solar and crepuscular at the same time, that of a visionary and poet definitively situated outside of all chronology, but with whom Julien shares surprising and ‘timely’ coincidences. Shorter was born August 25, 1933, the same day as Julien’s father, “if we take time zones into account”, and who died on Lourau’s birthday, March 2, 2023. Should we take this as a random fact? Or could we not see here the sign of a destiny connecting the agnostic Frenchman to the man who, as a fervent Buddhist, believed in the transmission of his spiritual flow ?