Buscar:gutt

Demon Records is proud to reissue this album as part of the Gary Crowley’s Lost 80s project. This Classic LP
reissue is presented on double 140g translucent blue vinyl.
Blue Rondo A La Turk were a lively 6 piece British latin/jazz/pop group, formed in 1981 by singer/lyricist Chris
Sullivan, and disbanded in 1984 when several members moved on to form the hit-making band Matt Bianco.
‘Chewing The Fat ‘ is the debut album, originally released in 1982 and includes the charting singles ‘Me And
Mr. Sanchez’ and ‘Klacto Vee Sedstein’
Included in the release is a bonus LP of official remixes on vinyl for the first time.
“If there was one band I wanted to be in back in 1982 it was Blue Rondo A La Turk. Named after the classic
Dave Brubeck song, they were a bunch of sharp suited hedonists with a philosophy straight out of Spinal Tap,
have a good time, all the time! Thinking about it though they probably would have left a lightweight like me
for dead in some Soho gutter after the first couple of drinks on a night out. Known and loved for their
infectious blend of salsa, funk, pop and cool bop and swing as well as their renowned live performances, why
they didn't break through to the nations charts remains one of pop's great conundrums. But those who
knew, knew and for energy and sonic pleasure this, their debut album "Chewing The Fat" takes some beating
and I'm thrilled it's available once again on vinyl under our GC Lost 80s moniker. It really is a wonderful
reminder of their collective talent that was sadly never given time to flourish.

Life moves in cycles. As things change and morph over time, it circles back to key points and offers second chances. Volumes find themselves at such a point in 2020. After four years apart, the group—Myke Terry vocals, Raad Soudani [bass], and Nick Usich [drums]—reconvenes with original vocalist Michael Barr. In doing so, they perfect a boundary-breaking balance of guttural grooves, magnetic melodies, proficient metal, and unbridled hardcore. In essence, the guys pick right up with they left off in 2015…In 2010, Volumes burst out of the gate with The Concept of Dreaming EP. The hypnotic and hard-hitting Via [2011] and No Sleep [2014] inspired the enthusiasm of a diehard fan base. After parting ways with Barr during 2015, the band maintained its prolific output on Different Animals [2017] and the Coming Clean EP [2019]. Their total stream tally exceeded 40 million as they incited applause from Alternative Press, New Noise Magazine, Rock Sound, Metal Injection, and more.

Originally released on CD in 2007, this is a long overdue first vinyl release of the Goo Goo Dolls compilation Greatest Hits Volume One: The Singles.

Spanning an incredibly productive and successful era for the band, this collection includes all their hit singles from 1995 to 2006, including Name, Slide, Black Balloon and Iris.

During this period, the band released the hugely popular albums A Boy Named Goo, Dizzy Up The Girl, Gutterflower and Let Love In that established them as a major player in alternative rock.

They have been active since 2005 and their new record, Where Myth Becomes
Memory, is their sixth full- length album. It is the follow up to their critically
acclaimed 2018 album, Time Will Die And Love Will Bury It. The group is known
for their sonic and energetic live performances, as well as their stark and
consistent artistic aesthetic.
Vocalist Eva Spence is one of the most dynamic and varied vocalists in the
progressive metal scene, her gorgeous cleans and guttural screams are truly
unique.
Their new record, Where Myth Becomes Memory, is a grand display of
immaculate musicianship, intricate songwriting, and raw emotion. There is a
consistent theme throughout the record which is accompanied by a hauntingly
beautiful grand piano. The attention to detail in the recording is astonishing, as
you can hear the individual cadence of each key being pressed in. The album
feels like a living, breathing work of art.
Throughout Where Myth Becomes Memory, you find Rolo Tomassi moving
through elements of mathcore, post- metal, prog, classical, ambient and
experimental.
The band can be broadly described as progressive metal, and specifically defined
as experimental mathcore.

They have been active since 2005 and their new record, Where Myth Becomes
Memory, is their sixth full- length album. It is the follow up to their critically
acclaimed 2018 album, Time Will Die And Love Will Bury It. The group is known
for their sonic and energetic live performances, as well as their stark and
consistent artistic aesthetic.
Vocalist Eva Spence is one of the most dynamic and varied vocalists in the
progressive metal scene, her gorgeous cleans and guttural screams are truly
unique.
Their new record, Where Myth Becomes Memory, is a grand display of
immaculate musicianship, intricate songwriting, and raw emotion. There is a
consistent theme throughout the record which is accompanied by a hauntingly
beautiful grand piano. The attention to detail in the recording is astonishing, as
you can hear the individual cadence of each key being pressed in. The album
feels like a living, breathing work of art.
Throughout Where Myth Becomes Memory, you find Rolo Tomassi moving
through elements of mathcore, post- metal, prog, classical, ambient and
experimental.
The band can be broadly described as progressive metal, and specifically defined
as experimental mathcore.

Scott Lavene is set to release ‘Broke’ on 7th June 2019, an album that is drenched in living in the gutter but staring at the stars.

Lavene has the lyrical smarts and the fairground bark of an Ian Dury, the incisive wordplay of a Costello and the deadpan pop of Madness in his creative DNA, along with the street poetry of an Essex boy version of Lou Reed, the dislocated funk of Talking Heads, the jellied eel lyrical bounce of Chas and Dave, and the inventive surreal see-saw of a Tom Waits, and many other nonconformists.

It’s an intoxicating brew that he makes his own in this collection of wonderful quirky songs that make up ‘Broke’.

These are songs that are full of detail and a life lived in scuffed shoes, rainy towns and the magic of the everyday. Songs about small talk, being skint, doomed affairs and the sweetness of falling in love over a cup of tea.

Creating unconventional backdrops for his street tales Scott builds up shapeshifting rhymes and looping grooves.

Take the freaked-out punked up soul of The Stooges and MC5 mix that with 60s garage trash, blend in Sabbath, AC/DC and heavy rock n roll and then hot wire that sound to a handful of freaks located in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Here it is that The Angered Wrecks were located - in an old Victorian style house in downtown Fredericton. It was here they set up a permanent rehearsal space on the main floor taking up the dining room and living room area with a full P.A. system and the long parties would begin as the Angered Wrecks cranked out an unholy primal serving of mind-numbing, eyeball-popping guttural pure rock and roll.

Lucky for us the Angered Wrecks had a primitive DIY recording set up as they recorded live off the floor with one cardioid mic taped to the ceiling to capture the entire room sound and straight into a cheap Alpine cassette deck. The results of these previously unheard recordings capture the essence of trashy rock’n roll at it’s finest, delivered with pure dereliction, and always a side of extra sleaze.
Keeping warm in the winter at another old salt box style house they would later rehearse and play gigs in, a large circle was cut in the floor so that the rising heat from the pottery kiln downstairs would (along with the right mixture of beer and ‘Purple Jesus’, weed and often speed and hot dogs) keep these boys fuelled long enough in sub zero temperatures to keep pumping out the rock’n roll savagery.
The last show they played was in the fall of ’81 at the Bug Shack after the household was served an eviction noticed with the house to be entirely demolished (just like Stooge Manor aka The Fun House).

They got a gig together the weekend before demolition, packed the bottom floor and played a blazing set. At the very end, walls were kicked apart, old cans of paint strewn about, general wanton destruction to furniture, doors, windows etc…insane. The bug shack had come to an end and shortly thereafter, The Angered Wrecks.
That these tapes have survived to this day is all thanks to John Westhaver’s archival hoarding (even though the loss of a 90 minute session of the Angered Wrecks still haunts John to this day).
So CRANK these tracks as loud as you can – these audio tapes are not for the faint of heart

First ever vinyl release of the soundtrack for this Wes Craven classic from 1991.

Limited Electric Blue and Oxblood "AsideBside" with Brown Splatter.

Composer Don Peake created an incredibly atmospheric and spooky score for this film. Peake's career is insane –as a guitarist and member of the Wrecking Crew, he’s played on albums by Marvin Gaye, Phil Spector, Everly Brothers, Mahalia Jackson, John Lennon, Jackson Five and more.

It's an incredible career and his musical diversity shines on this score. Fun fact: People Under the Stairs opened at #1 on the box office chart and stayed in the Top 10 for a month.

“Thunderous, and yet somehow also reflective, this album offers a haunting dialogue between the musicians. Betamax drives the music with motoric rhythm, while Bell is seemingly searching for something more sophisticated.”

London’s avant-garde, attempted to master in his youth the delicate art of the Shakuhachi - the infamously difficult-to-play bamboo flute that whiffs of a certain Japanese Zen aroma. After many years of travelling south east Asia in the 70s, seeking out the teachings of many flute and reed traditions, Clive Bell eventually gave up his quest and returned to London exhausted and confused. Horrified by the omnipresent egos of popular music, he was drawn back towards the dark currents of London’s free-improv gutter, where upon he was encouraged by his peers to live in a squat, and participate in abrasive noise experiments typical of the London improvising epidemic that persisted throughout the 80s.

Whilst immersed by this subculture, Bell was to bear his only child that we know of to this day - Maxwell Hallett, later to be known as ‘Betamax’. Bell immediately refused to teach any music to Betamax, hoping greater things and opportunities might lead Max away to a more financially comfortable and spiritually rewarding occupation. Alas Clive was unable to protect his son from the strong seductive forces of London’s prevalent musical subcultures.

Survival depends on evolution. As conditions change and tides turn, we must change with them in order to stay one step ahead of the coming challenges. It’s clear that Fit For An Autopsy have embraced that mantra as they continue to perpetually evolve with each subsequent body of work. Not just blurring, but eradicating the lines between technical metal virtuosity, death metal menace, hardcore intensity, melodic insidiousness, and abstract approaches, the New Jersey band embody an uncompromising vision of their own.

The six-piece—Joseph Badolato vocals, Patrick Sheridan guitar, Timothy Howley guitar, Will Putney [guitar], Peter Blue Spinazola [bass], and Josean Orta Martinez [drums]—perfect this approach on their sixth full-length offering, Oh What The Future Holds [Nuclear Blast Records].

Fit For An Autopsy have never stopped moving forward though. Following their caustic 2011 debut The Process of Human Extermination, the group quietly carved out a place among extreme metal’s modern vanguard with their second LP Hellbound. Revolver cited 2015’s Absolute Hope Absolute Hell among “15 Essential Deathcore Albums.” And In the wake of The Great Collapse two years later, the band had truly created their own space in the realm of what could be described as “post-deathcore”. This ascent reached another level on the 2019 opus The Sea of Tragic Beasts. Widespread praise from the fans and press alike is all but too common for their refreshing approach to modern aggressive music both on record and in concert.

When the Global Pandemic changed everyone’s tour plans, Fit For An Autopsy dove into writing in spring 2020 and made the most of their time off the road.
“We had no real timeline, so we didn’t feel much pressure,” says Putney. “Once we realized touring wasn’t opening up, we decided to have fun with the process. I got to spend more time than I usually do on records. We definitely took some of the songs into new places because of that. It’s our longest album. We composed more than we ever have and it was a rewarding feeling to put real work into all these ideas.”

In early 2021, Fit For An Autopsy congregated in-person at Putney’s Graphic Nature Audio and recorded Oh What The Future Holds. Now, they introduce the album with the single “Far From Heaven.” Swirling as a perfect storm, airy guitar cuts through a pummeling percussive groove as melodic vocals slip into a guttural groan offset by neck-snapping riffs and powerful dynamics.
“The world we exist in is clearly “far from heaven”. Institutions are exploited, and people are taken advantage of. There’s a power struggle between those in control and those who aren’t. This is a fairly literal reflection on the world today.”

In the end, Fit For An Autopsy haven’t just personally evolved on Oh What The Future Holds; they’ve brought heavy music with them.

‘Expressions of Interest’ is the debut album from Melbourne/Naarm post-punk group screensaver.

Sonically, the 10 track album is rich and detailed, and pays homage to its era of inspiration (late 70s-mid 80s post-punk and new wave) with gripping vocals, dissonant guitar, melodic basslines, washes of synths and motorik drumming. Engineered by Julian Cue alongside band member Chris Stephenson and recorded over multiple studio sessions between 2020-2021

The album opens with the ominously titled ‘Body Parts’, an immediately arresting song that showcases the bands penchant for blending classic post-punk elements, leaning into a sound somewhere between the Banshees and Protomartyr.

Maynard doubles down on these themes in the frenetic second track, ‘No Movement’. Guttural organ tones swim under overdriven guitar, jagged and intense. Additional textures and sound effects are used percussively to embellish the dynamics, creating a feverish atmosphere with some Martin Hannett like flourishes.

The album takes a surprising turn into electronic driven krautrock on track three with 'Buy, Sell, Trade' - a rollicking piece of danceable ephemera, dominated by swirling synth sounds and punctuated with electronics reminiscent of Sparks/Moroder collaborations. Chris Stephenson's masterful guitar work begins with Greg Sage-esque determination before a crescendo into a lush Frippertronics outro.

'MEDS' transports us back to the foundation established on 'Body Parts', a gothy piece, full of tribal toms and dirge-y synths. Industrial punk rock nearly swallowed whole by the keys in the middle and slowly building back to complimentary guitar and vocal hooks.

It's from this point in the album that the band let's their other influences rise to the surface, as they explore touches of EDM on 'Static State' - a brutal, death-disco style track, Krystal Maynard's lead synth and gloomy vocal complimenting the pounding drums and dub-esque bass line culminating in a track worthy of the dancefloor.


Opening side two we have 'Skin', beginning with a solid and simple backbeat, James Beck’s post-punk percussion provides a steady and minimal framework for the rest of the band to colour in with great depth and detail. Giles Fielke’s bass guitar wobbles brilliantly leading the verse melody, whilst Chris Stephenson’s guitar drives the chorus that folds neatly in on itself.

In ‘Attention Economy’, Krystal Maynard is flexible with her lyrical style, and knows how and when to lend her voice to the greater backdrop of the composition. ‘Attention Economy’ has an almost Kraftwerkian structure - repetitious, but engaging with its constant tom driven beat, lush synth lines and minimal bass tones.

Just when you thought things had slowed down, screensaver ramp things right back up again with ‘Overnight Low’ - a no holds barred thumper. Giles Fielke underpins the hard-edged sound with his bassline, keeping things smooth and tight. It brings to mind a hybrid of PiL’s ‘Annalisa’ and Wire’s ‘Two People In a Room.’

Before you can catch your breath, we have ‘Regular Hours’ - another industrial track, and perhaps the sister song to ‘Static State’ heard earlier on side one. Seething electronic drum samples cut through an abyss of growling synths, Giles Fielke hanging up the bass temporarily to accompany Krystal Maynard on synth duties.

The album closes with the fittingly titled ‘Soft Landing’, literally bringing the listener back down...softly. The song is heavy on atmos, and resembles the aesthetics previously encountered on ‘Attention Economy’ a few tracks earlier.

‘Expressions of Interest” was recorded at various locations across Melbourne, with a handful of songs being captured before the start of the Covid pandemic in January 2020. With the recording timeline being drastically altered, the band shifted focus to work on what would become their first single ‘Strange Anxiety’, throughout the first months of the Melbourne 2020 lockdown.

GENOCIDE PACT return with their eponymous new album. An overdose of gut-wrenching Death Metal, Genocide Pact is heavy, engrossing, and undoubtedly brutal. "This album reflects on the feeling of watching the world crumble while dealing with personal tragedy," says guitarist/vocalist Tim Mullaney. True to his word - every track on Genocide Pact is a sonic assault brimming with palpable malaise. From the guttural screams in the album's opener "Led to Extinction", to the driving double bass that carries "Perverse Dominion", and a head rattling low end on "Deprive Degrade" - Genocide Pact is wholly negative Death Metal. The fury behind Genocide Pact captures the band's collective frustrations and personal journeys through these turbulent times. "You turn on the news and see mass shootings, a global pandemic, endless war, and corporations and politicians trying to sell you bullshit. You pick up your phone and another friend or family member has died. On top of that, you’re broke as fuck and work endlessly for a boss that doesn’t even know your name. You find yourself paranoid, pissed off, and embracing nihilism," Tim Mullaney says. GENOCIDE PACT have learned to embrace the negativity, churning out one of 2021's ugliest and unforgiving records.

With Companion, Otto A Totland completes his album trilogy of personal, sparse piano compositions, following in the footsteps of 2014's Pinô and 2017's The Lost.

As a self-taught pianist, Otto further determines himself as a timeless composer who follows nothing but his own gut and heart. The outcome is something so pure it’s hard to not be affected. The development of his pieces over the years has grown into something so himself that it's almost immediately recognisable. With Companion he has matured in his own craft, and the various pieces here feel confident and absolutely beautiful in a way that sees the end of the trilogy as a warm, empathic document for the times.

As with the previous two albums, Companion was again recorded at Nils Frahm's Berlin studio for optimal warmth and space, Pinô and The Lost at his previous Durton Studio while Companion at the historic Studio 3 at Funkhaus. All three records are released by Sonic Pieces in hand-crafted limited edition covers as a statement showing that craftmanship and humanity still exists in this world constantly moving towards the exact opposite.

This quote by Norwegian philosopher Guttorm Fløistad seems an appropriate connection to both Otto's music and the way we are all heading : “The only thing for certain is that everything changes. The rate of change increases. If you want to hang on you better speed up. That is the message of today … In order to master changes, we have to recover slowness, reflection and togetherness. There we will find real renewal.” With this in mind, Companion is exactly what it's title sets out to be. A friend that can follow and comfort in both good or bad times.

1. Some records hit you with an instant impression of timeless brilliance, and Low Life’s Dogging is one of those records, what the wise call “an instant classic”. 2. From Squats to Lots: The Agony and the XTC of Low Life is more like their second album Downer Edn (read Edition), a little more withdrawn, a little more textured. Complex. Rich. Which is to say: you’re going to need some time with it. 3. Some show, some grow. Low Life have done both. This one is a grower. Spend some time with this one. It’s got that nuanced flavour. Don’t guzzle. Sip. Savour. 4. Sip it, and sense the recurring brilliance of Mitch Tolman’s lyrics, exploring the usual territory of gutter life, lad life, punk life, low life. The dirge. Disgust and shame in white Australia. Council housing, bills piled to the neck, substance abuse and rehabilitation, the fallen lads and lasses who stood too close to the flame, loss and loneliness, from squats to lots. Un-Australian gutter symphony. 5. There is a celebration of resilience and that’s a central theme of this record and a time like ours needs a record like Agony & XTC. Low times are coming through, but if you’re low they won’t get to you. 6. Iggy Pop’s Bowie produced studio rock masterpieces ‘The Idiot’ and ‘Lust For Life’ are important reference points to the 3rd album sounds of Low Life. Here comes success! 7. ‘The Agony and Ecstasy’ is a 1985 novel by Irving Stone about the life of Italian Renaissance painter Michelangelo. Stone wrote another novel about the single eared painter Vincent Van Gogh called ‘Lust For Life’. This synchronicity hit me. 8. Iggy and the Stooges are a pretty safe reference for Low Life (and all good rock music). Iggy and the Stooges are a low life’s Michelangelo, but solo Iggy like Lust for Life is a better reference for this particular incarnation of Low Life, which is to say they are studio rock albums. 9. Bowie later referred to this period of his life as profoundly nihilistic. But Iggy looked at it as the period of his life that saved him from an early grave. This confrontation is Low life lore. 10. Let’s stick to this, because there’s something about this era of Bowie that makes sense with Low Life’s new album, particularly Low. One should never miss the Low in our new album from Low Life. Producer and studio boss Mickey Grossman has the ear for the Low, and he has carved out a little statue of David right here. 11. Mickey’s ears are recording, mixing and producing the best of Sydney, most notably the Oily Boys Cro Memory Grin. A great companion record to this one. Use Agony & XTC AFTER Oily Boys. Not on an empty stomach, and don’t try to operate heavy machinery (bobcat, bulldozer etc). 12. The relationship between Low Life and Sydney hardcore should not be understated, but it also shouldn’t guide how to listen to Agony & XTC. This is not austere, disciplined music. 13. Think, like, if Poison Idea were given the kind of studio time and budget as Happy Mondays. You wouldn’t play it to a teenager. It’s not for children. This is a mature flavour, one for the adults who have had to contend with failure and hardship, medical bills and disappointed family members, betrayed lovers and worrisome growths, police brutality and tooth decay, humiliating bowels and collapsed septums, detoxing and drying out, for those who have seen themselves as corrupted and putrid and unloveable, for those who endure all of this and aren’t willing to lie down and cop it sweet: Low Life are still here and they ain’t going nowhere. NOTES ON HOW NOT TO LISTEN TO AGONY AND XTC OF LOW LIFE: 1. Don’t think of shoe-gaze. It suggests a safe passage to 90’s reminiscences, a vogue style of our time, but nothing to do with Low Life style. Low Life style is always of its time. The content changes. Agony & XTC shares weight of records like My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and Slowdive’s Kebab, records that were laboured on after the songs were recorded, songs that were written as they were recorded. 2. We can call these “studio albums” as opposed to albums built in the heat of live performance. Studio albums from the 90’s are called shoe-gaze by some journalist nerds, but we know better than to use words like this. 3. Studio albums are excessive and, at the same time, so empty. Agony & XTC, Loveless, Kebab, Rumours: excessive! And empty. This is not to suggest this is Low Lite, some throwback, soft. A band like Low Life can make an overproduced studio rock album without having to use the word shoe-gaze. So, don’t think studio albums mean anything especially 90’s. Don’t look back. 4. Let’s lose these distasteful labels, like “shoe-gaze”, “rehab rock”, “stab”, “guitar OD overdrive”, “western Sydney wonder”. They can fade out. A low life was once referred to as a vagabond. Who uses this term today? Nobody. Language can murder. Words can die. Kill ‘em all! - Daniel 'DX' Stewart, Melbourne, 2021.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Five years after the release of "Je vous dis" in 2018, Geins't Naït and L.Petitgand's second album from the "Mind Travel" and "Make Dogs Sing" collection on the German label "Offen", the duo are now writing a new chapter in their story with this fascinating poetic tale. The same mysterious and heady atmosphere which characterises the two musicians is present in this new work but clearly they have never ceased refining and polishing their sounds to give their compositions even more power and depth. Geins't Naït and L.Petitgand here offer twelve new tracks with names as enigmatic as the title "Like this maybe or This" itself and the record's whole universe. In reality, these mysterious names lead us to let ourselves be taken to the deep meaning of their creation. The subject matter is certainly difficult to grasp and invites us on an inner journey while leading us to doubt and question ourselves incessantly. There is a perfect alchemy between these two artists though this was far from self-evident as they come from two very different schools. Thierry Merigout, who is now the only representative left from the late 80's experimental project Geins't Naït in Nancy, comes from the post-industrial scene. As for Laurent Petitgand, he is a pure melodist who is best known for his work as a composer of music for films and live shows and has collaborated with Wim Wenders and Paul Auster in particular. "Like this maybe or This" is a fully accomplished symbiosis between Geinst Nait's industrial and experimental tonalities and the celestial melodies of Laurent Petitgand. "Shape of the storie" starts the album with a bewildering atmosphere which mixes a sample of a guttural voice with cavernous resonances thus prefiguring the album's general atmosphere. However, while some tracks like "HAC" fuel our existential anguish, other tracks have a poetic and melancholic tonality which touches our deepest humanity. This is the case of "Dustil" whose subtle piano notes combined with the melancholy violin show us a sublimated world. This fascinating blend of violence and gentleness makes this record an atypical work which enables listeners to lose themselves in an emotional nebula where they can perceive the turbulence and also the intensity of our inner life.

Limitierte farbige LP! "Public Storage" baut auf dem Sound von Vus früheren Veröffentlichungen auf und unterstreicht ihre Stärken als Songwriterin mit einem tieferen Sinn für Glanz, Raffinesse und Dringlichkeit. Sie nennt es eine "sehr invasive und intensiv klingende Musik", die erfrischend unkonventionell zu den zeitgenössischen Trends ist; dies ist Musik, auf die man sich einlässt, anstatt sich zurückzulehnen. Co-Produzent Jackson Phillips (Day Wave) half Vu dabei, eine riesige, körnige, facettenreiche Welt zu erschaffen, in die sie sich stimmlich hineinbegeben kann, wobei ihre ausgeprägte Altstimme frei zwischen beschwörenden, tiefgründigen Betrachtungen und gefühlvollen, himmelwärts strebenden Ausbrüchen hin- und herpendelt. Die ersten Klänge, die wir hören, sind bezaubernd: Vereinzelte Klaviertasten gehen in "April Fool" in warme Schläge und Selbstharmonien über, während Vus Protagonistin ihre Umgebung und ihre Fähigkeit zu kommunizieren verleugnet. Das sanfte bernsteinfarbene Glühen geht über in den Titeltrack des Albums, einen dunkleren, düsteren, lauteren Ort. Vu rennt durch "Public Storage" mit einer Reihe von trotzigen Zurückweisungen (Versagen, Familie, Magie) und kathartischen Forderungen. Es ist eine seltene und kraftvolle Zurschaustellung von Verletzlichkeit von einem Texter, der das Abstrakte dem Autobiographischen vorzieht. Aubade", das auf einem Disco-Synthie-Muster und groovenden Bass-Stabs aufbaut, hat den hellen Schwung seines morgendlichen Namensvetters, der geschickt im Widerspruch zu seinem niederschmetternden Thema steht. Der Kontrast setzt sich in "Keeper" fort, einem pulsierenden New-Wave-Song mit träumerischen Synthesizern und einem coolen, knurrenden Erzähler, der diese Kraft erneut herausfordert. "Gutter" kehrt zum grungigen Lowlight zurück, mit muskulösen Gitarrenriffs, die sich über einem Bett aus Rückkopplungen abzeichnen und zusammen mit orchestralen Streichern zu einem brüllenden Finale anschwellen. Die hintere Hälfte von Public Storage bietet einige der markantesten Momente: Das rhythmische, hooklastige "Everybody's Birthday" spricht von der bösen Absurdität der Gegenwart, dem Ende der Zeiten. Die Nacht ist rot, die Stimmung ist blau, und die Scham ihrer Figur ist goldfarben. Vu hebt sich "Maker" für den Schluss auf, einen letzten Versuch im Existenziellen.

Storage units hold possessions on pause from the outside world, objects capable of reconnecting us to a time or place. Hana Vu (born in 2000s California) grew up with her family making regular use of public storage spaces in Los Angeles, moving every few years, leaving a mix of the sacred and the mundane to sit inside concrete and steel. The 20-year-old musician sees the art of making and releasing songs in a similar sense: “these public expressions of thoughts, feelings, baggage, experiences that accumulate every year and fill little units such as ‘albums.’” She lived next to one of these buildings when she started writing her full-length Ghostly International debut, Public Storage, and its towering presence lends a metaphor to a record that sounds far bigger than the bedroom it came from.

Vu’s relationship with music began when she picked up a guitar her dad had lying around and taught herself to play. She’d wake up every day and listen to LA’s ALT 98.7, home to ‘90s and ‘00s alternative rock; later in high school, she found the local DIY scene. She remembers, “A lot of my peer musicians were surf rock/punk type bands and so I tried to fit into that when I was gigging around. But what I was listening to at that time St. Vincent, Sufjan Stevens was very different from what I performed.” Ultimately she’d do her own thing, keeping a journal of bedroom pop ex-periments on Bandcamp, including a low-key Willow Smith collaboration and covers of The Cure and Phil Collins. She caught the ear of Gorilla vs. Bear, who released Vu’s self-produced debut EP in 2018 on their Luminelle Recordings imprint, followed by a double EP the next year.

Public Storage builds on the sound of Vu’s early work underscoring her strengths as a songwriter with a deeper sense of luster, sophistication, and urgency. She calls it “very invasive and intense sounding music,” refreshingly out of step with contemporary trends; this is music to engage with rather than lean back to. For the first time, she welcomes a co-producer, Jackson Phillips (Day Wave), who helps Vu create a vast, grainy, multifaceted world to stretch into vocally, her distinct contralto drifting freely between evocative low-lit ruminations and soulful, skyward bursts.

Storage units hold possessions on pause from the outside world, objects capable of reconnecting us to a time or place. Hana Vu (born in 2000s California) grew up with her family making regular use of public storage spaces in Los Angeles, moving every few years, leaving a mix of the sacred and the mundane to sit inside concrete and steel. The 20-year-old musician sees the art of making and releasing songs in a similar sense: “these public expressions of thoughts, feelings, baggage, experiences that accumulate every year and fill little units such as ‘albums.’” She lived next to one of these buildings when she started writing her full-length Ghostly International debut, Public Storage, and its towering presence lends a metaphor to a record that sounds far bigger than the bedroom it came from.

Vu’s relationship with music began when she picked up a guitar her dad had lying around and taught herself to play. She’d wake up every day and listen to LA’s ALT 98.7, home to ‘90s and ‘00s alternative rock; later in high school, she found the local DIY scene. She remembers, “A lot of my peer musicians were surf rock/punk type bands and so I tried to fit into that when I was gigging around. But what I was listening to at that time St. Vincent, Sufjan Stevens was very different from what I performed.” Ultimately she’d do her own thing, keeping a journal of bedroom pop ex-periments on Bandcamp, including a low-key Willow Smith collaboration and covers of The Cure and Phil Collins. She caught the ear of Gorilla vs. Bear, who released Vu’s self-produced debut EP in 2018 on their Luminelle Recordings imprint, followed by a double EP the next year.

Public Storage builds on the sound of Vu’s early work underscoring her strengths as a songwriter with a deeper sense of luster, sophistication, and urgency. She calls it “very invasive and intense sounding music,” refreshingly out of step with contemporary trends; this is music to engage with rather than lean back to. For the first time, she welcomes a co-producer, Jackson Phillips (Day Wave), who helps Vu create a vast, grainy, multifaceted world to stretch into vocally, her distinct contralto drifting freely between evocative low-lit ruminations and soulful, skyward bursts.