Search:har

Florida deathcore heavyweights Bodysnatcher return with their most punishing and purposeful statement to date. ‘Hell Is Here, Hell Is Home’, out April 10, is not an escape record, it is a confrontation. Brutal, unrelenting, and emotionally unfiltered, the album captures a band fully locked into its identity while sharpening every weapon in its arsenal. True to their roots, Bodysnatcher deliver a sound steeped in suffocating grooves, bone-crushing breakdowns, and feral intensity. ‘Hell Is Here, Hell Is Home’ pushes beyond pure aggression. The record explores cycles of trauma, self-destruction, survival, and the uncomfortable truth that for many, suffering is not a phase, it is a place.

This is deathcore grounded in lived experience, written from inside the fire rather than in hindsight. Across the album, Bodysnatcher balance sonic violence with a disciplined sense of control. Downtuned riffs grind with oppressive weight, drums hit with mechanical precision, and vocals swing between outright hostility and grim reflection. Each track feels deliberate, built not just to hit hard, but to linger. With this release, Bodysnatcher continue to cement their position as one of modern deathcore’s most uncompromising voices. ‘Hell Is Here, Hell Is Home’ is a record built for the pit, rooted in truth, unflinching and heavy in every sense, delivered with absolute conviction.

Hard rock paired with a pinch of cowpunk and hearty Danish gruffness: This unique mix has earned D-A-D a passionate fan base whose loyalty and devotion extends far beyond Scandinavia. A bond just as deeply rooted, as that between Hamburg dark rock giants MONO INC. (whose current album Darkness once again conquered the top spot on the German charts) and their raven family. Back in 2008, MONO INC. paid tribute to D-A-D with a cover version of “Sleeping My Day Away” and today, what belongs together rocks together, as MONO INC. plays D-A-D! What's more, in MONO INC.'s version of Grow or Pay, their epic, melancholic dark rock meets the unmistakable raspy voice of D-A-D singer Jesper Binzer.

“We've adored D-A-D since we first saw them live in the early 1990s,” explains MONO INC. mastermind Martin Engler. “The fact that we were able to get Jesper Binzer on board for our version of ”Grow or Pay“ and that D-A-D will also be joining us as special guests on our 2026 tour in Bremen and Munich is almost too much of an honor.”

'Squish' is the debut album from London-based Gretel, produced by Seth Evans (credits inc Black Midi, Geordie Greep, HMLTD, Shame). It is a grungy, hooky, expressive guitar record inspired by the likes of PJ Harvey, Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins and features the singles 'Unbloom', 'Maybelline' and 'Darkness, be my friend'. 'Squish' is released on 180G Black vinyl housed in a gatefold sleeve and features an A2 poster.

First time reissue of JP / US free jazz rarity.

The 1970s were Marion Brown’s most searching decade, a period during which he sought to move beyond the free jazz of the previous era and find more personal approaches to structuring improvisation and composition. After leaving New York for Europe in 1967, Brown began reshaping his music into what he described as “a more deliberate kind of music that had more structure to it,” pacing it so that moods and modes could develop over time. Albums such as In Sommerhausen, Afternoon of a Georgia Faun, Geechee Recollections, and Sweet Earth Flying trace this evolution: rhythmic structures moved to the foreground, harmony receded, and composition became a matter of orchestrating interlocking rhythmic parts as one would polyphonic lines.

Released in 1976, Awofofora is an overlooked but crucial entry in that sequence. At the time, its use of funk and reggae beats, electric guitars, and grooves drawn from contemporary Black popular music led some to misread it as a jazz-rock detour. In retrospect, it is entirely consistent with Brown’s methodology. As he admired in the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the stimulus comes from within the community. Here Brown filters Afro-Caribbean rhythms and funk through his own sensibility, abstracting their structural qualities rather than adopting surface style.

“La Placita,” making its first recorded appearance, layers distinct rhythmic phrases in a manner reminiscent of African drum ensembles, over which Brown and trumpeter Ambrose Jackson spin extended improvisations. The standard “Flamingo” is reshaped through diasporic rhythm and lyrical soloing, while “Pepi’s Tempo” and “Mangoes” harness crisp funk and reggae grooves to generate what Brown called a “manifestation of community” through collective improvisation. Even the overdubbed solo feature “And Then They Danced” reflects his structural thinking, ingeniously re-voicing a duet composition for two alto saxophones performed by one player.

This was the only recording by a short-lived band that briefly polarized audiences during festival appearances in 1976. Yet Brown consistently sought unity across change: different sounds, same principles — rhythm as structure, melody as architecture, collective improvisation, and above all, the primacy of tone. Awofofora stands not as a departure, but as a vivid synthesis of the elements he had been refining since the late 1960s, its grooves and golden alto lines conveying a sound drawn, in his words, “from life and from the world of experience.”

Nora Steiner und Madlaina Pollina malen das Bild einer Welt, die wir schon lange nicht mehr so eindrücklich und reflektiert wahrgenommen haben. Aufbruch, Licht und Schatten und die Bedrängnis der Gegenwart, ausgedrückt in bezauberndem Indie-Folk-Pop, der Zähne zeigt und enorme Dynamik entwickelt. Mal erinnert ihr zweistimmiger Gesang an First Aid Kit, ihre kompositorische Zugänglichkeit lässt an den perlenden Pop von Boy denken, dann wieder geleitet uns das Duo an düstere Abgründe, wie sie auch Emily Jane White beschreibt. Allerdings sind dies nur ungefähre Orientierungspunkte. Dass die beiden aus der Schweiz kommen, ist grundlegend für deren Debütalbum "Cheers", denn "Cheers" heißt nicht nur Prost, "Cheers" kann ein Anfang und ein Ende sein, eine Begrüßung und auch ein Abschied. Dabei spielen Steiner & Madlaina gekonnt mit Ambivalenzen. Mal fließen ihre Songs lieblich daher, dann türmen sich die Instrumente walzenartig auf. Durch die analogen Sounds und teils surfigen Gitarrenklänge gewinnt "Cheers" an Wärme und transportiert einen unterschwelligen 60er-Jahre-Charme. Im Zentrum des Ganzen stehen aber immer die Stimmen von Steiner & Madlaina, die so perfekt harmonieren, dass man die Vertrautheit und langjährige Freundschaft der beiden herauszuhören meint.

Defying labels across the board, and turning old-style ancestral narratives into brutal and harrowing portraits of life on the edge of nowhere, the Fibbers wrap each of Lost Somewhere Between the Earth and My Home\'s 12 songs into a ball of fury and toss it against the wall of tradition, just to see what happens. Chaotic noise breakdowns give way to melodic singalongs, songs twist and turn through several side paths before reaching their destination, and everything sounds as if total annihilation is imminent. Scary, thoughtful and highly inventive, Lost is the sound of country gone to hell.

Defying labels across the board, and turning old-style ancestral narratives into brutal and harrowing portraits of life on the edge of nowhere, the Fibbers wrap each of Lost Somewhere Between the Earth and My Home\'s 12 songs into a ball of fury and toss it against the wall of tradition, just to see what happens. Chaotic noise breakdowns give way to melodic singalongs, songs twist and turn through several side paths before reaching their destination, and everything sounds as if total annihilation is imminent. Scary, thoughtful and highly inventive, Lost is the sound of country gone to hell.

HYPER GAL are restless. Since 2019, Kansai’s minimalist duo has been in persistent, perpetual motion.

In January of 2024, SKiN GRAFT Records introduced HYPER GAL to western audiences, giving the previously self-released album “Pure” a worldwide release. It was followed by “After Image”; a new full-length record; in September of that same year. In short order HYPER GAL left Japan to embark on a month-long European tour, performing at festivals such as Left of the Dial in Rotterdam and Le Guess Who? in Utrecht.

Consisting of Koharu Ishida (vocals) and Kurumi Kadoya (drums), HYPER GAL craft a sound all their own, characterized by avant-garde rhythms, looping landscapes, and hypnotic vocals. Their music resists traditional genre boundaries to carve out a truly singular sonic space.

With their fourth album “Our Hyper”, HYPER GAL thrust their sound into a deeper, harder core. Songs unfold into surprising shapes, embracing shadowy turns emboldened by a heavier low-end, while unearthing sharp takes on Japan’s harsh noise roots. The drums have grown even more acrobatic and unorthodox, while the vocals take on new colors, shifting from mesmerizing repetition to melodic, pop-tinged expression.

The album’s artwork is no less adventurous and features masks created by contemporary artist Tokiyoshi Akina and photographed in the band’s own hands, signaling resistance to the performative dualities of social media and a commitment to authenticity.
Despite the lean, unadorned two-piece setup, HYPER GAL’s music attains an intense and unmistakable presence - an unwavering momentum driven by an unrelenting intent. “Our Hyper” is HYPER GAL amplified.

"With each release they appear as mirage sculptors, using simple tools (drums, keyboards, vocals) in craft of multi-genre spanning work which only becomes more captivating the simpler their execution becomes...”
– MYSTIFICATION

With Variations for Light Waves, Swedish composer Linnéa Talp deepens the focus and intensity that shaped her 2022 debut Arch of Motion. Once again, the breath and hum of the pipe organ form the album’s core, but here she pushes further into deep listening and sonic nuance. Across seven pieces, she lingers on the instrument’s most resonant points, allowing its character to reveal itself slowly and patiently.
Talp’s path to this work has unfolded with similar steadiness. After first emerging with her project Deerest, she shifted toward improvisation and minimal composition, guided by an increasing sensitivity to sound and perception. Careful listening is now central to her practice, informing both her methods and her musical language.
The album was recorded over four years on pipe organs across Sweden, including a small funeral-chapel instrument in Lötsjökapellet—an environment Talp describes as an exceptional space for listening. Several pieces feature Christer Bothén (contrabass clarinet) and Mats Äleklint (trombone), whose playing blends seamlessly into her aerated organ tones. The improvisation “Air On Both Sides,” recorded in 2022 with Bothén, became the project’s starting point, an immersive bath in glowing harmonics. At times she interweaves Buchla recordings, setting electronic breath against acoustic resonance.
Talp’s fascination with quietness and delicacy is balanced by an interest in sonic brittleness. The closing title track gradually dismantles a downward chord progression, drifting into gentle collapse, while the brief opener pushes the organ’s pipes into gasping strain. These moments create a music open to chance, instability, and transformation.
Threads running through the album include an interest in chords, subtle improvisation, light, and memories of coastal landscapes. Talp also connects the work to the “thick white fog” surrounding her daughter’s birth. The result is music that envelopes like mist yet continually reveals new shapes—a world o

The sibling duo behind the music on Graceful Degradation — organ and drums, nothing more, nothing less — carve out a sound that feels unmistakably organic in a world drifting steadily toward the synthetic. Their interplay is entirely live, subtle in its details yet dynamic in its momentum, built on the kind of instinctive communication only brothers can share.
The music is fully instrumental, unfolding in a borderland where dreamy retro pop dissolves into the hazy textures of shoegaze and the unruly pulse of noisy, electronic leaning jazz. It’s a sonic world that feels both familiar and elusive, nostalgic yet inherently restless. Melodies shimmer and blur, rhythms swell and contract, and the space between the notes becomes as expressive as the notes themselves.
What emerges is a sound that resists easy categorization: warm but unpredictable, intimate yet expansive, grounded in the physicality of two musicians performing in real time. The organ breathes like a living organism, shifting from soft focus ambience to swirling, saturated harmonics, while the drums move with a fluid, human elasticity — sometimes whisper quiet, sometimes erupting with raw, kinetic force.
In this in between terrain, the duo has always found its identity and its freedom. Their music doesn’t chase perfection; it chases presence. It embraces imperfection, celebrates spontaneity, and insists on staying alive in a landscape where so much is becoming weightless and automated.
This is instrumental music with a pulse: subtle, dynamic, and unmistakably human.

10 songs from what is possibly the best anarchopunk band currently in existence. The dynamics of the tracks are refreshingly simple, a powerful yet neutral- sounding recording, with very little embellishment or stylized production to hide behind, approaching filth with distorted guitars, haunting bass lines, and steady drum beats, all elevated by the combination of the three voices perfectly balanced between melody and hatred. In a quantized world, one can perceive an endearing dose of human spirit through their tense and disturbingly melodic expressions. A modern Anarcho Punk classic that is surprising to find 40 years after the wonderful bands that spawned the genre, especially England. Includes poster and insert with lyrics.

Since reviewing Pomegranate Seeds: An International Benefit for Mutual Aid in Gaza, the compilation put out by the DISSIDENTS, I've been hunting for more VAMPIRE material, so when I saw I was assigned this LP I became very excited. VAMPIRE is an Australian band that plays apocalyptic anarcho- punk. A sense of extreme urgency pervades VAMPIRE's sound, and What Seems Forever Can Be Broken is ten songs that combine the demanding hardcore of CONFLICT, with a foundation of CRASS, and the rough-hewn delivery of raw punk. The resulting album is dark, hauntingly mesmeric, but also aggressive with a sense of communal voice. In other words, this is anarchopunk that is of the moment, and articulates exactly what contemporary punk is about without being preachy or elitist. This is that eye-to-eye, in-the-trenches vocalization of criticism that comes off as eye-opening and perspective-altering. What Seems Forever Can Be Broken is by far my favorite release thus far in 2025, but also might be the best album I've heard in a really long time. Like, this is benchmark-level material, so definitely give this a listen.

The 12" vinyl is now back from the pressing plant after months of delays. Availablefrom Phobia records treat your ears to something beautiful today, love from the Klaptrapers to all the drinkers, stinkers & thinkers out there. Line- up incl. members from Doom or/and Visions Of War

I'm very excited to present the second Desolate release from this amazing band. "Dissekerad's newest and strongest 12" release yet. 12 new songs from a now-classic modern band made up of Swedish scene vets, all having put in their time in many other now- legendary acts: from TOTALITAR to MAKEBERT FYND, AVSKUM to BRAINBOMBS, and many more. Poffen's bands alone are probably too numerous to name at this point. VAGGARNA RASAR gives us exactly what we expect and hope for--a master class of Swedish mangel HC distilled to its most essential and purest form. Somehow the songs feel even more urgent this time, paired with fuller, thicker production than previous releases. The blown-out, contrasted-to-hell artwork perfectly represents the music, with song titles on the front cover because why not; fuck it. Time marches on and so does hardcore, but some things don't need to change.

By the time Just One of Those Things was recorded, Nat "King" Cole was already considered by the general public as more of a singer and entertainer than a jazz pianist. Cole did his first sessions with the more jazz-oriented Billy May in 1951, but it wasn't until 1957 when they collaborated on this first LP - Just One of Those Things, a memorable album in which all 12 songs fit seamlessly together perfectly. It wasn't just May's arrangements that created such swinging music behind Cole's vocals though, it was also the band, which included many illustrious soloists: Harry "Sweets" Edison, Willie Smith, Pete Candoli, Jimmy Rowles and Lee Young, along with John Collins and Jack Costanzo, members of the celebrated Nat "King" Cole Trio.

Carlos Giffoni reconnects with Thurston Moore for two sides of loose-limbed axe noise, oscillator worship and hard-phased, Spacemen 3-style feedback.

Giffoni’s been on a roll recently. Since the No Fun founder returned to the scene with »Vain¡, a genius set of synth mutations that appeared in iDEAL back in 2018, he’s been slowly ramping up the activity, dropping the celestial »Dream Walker« on Stephen O’Malley’s Ideologic Organ in 2024 and following it with »Pendulum«, a bumper compendium of collaborations, just a few weeks back. For those who remember Giffoni’s first trip round the block, he was always able to hold his own chopping it up in person, not just by mail.

Just scrub through his early catalog and you’ll see collabs with Nels Cline and Chris Corsano, Merzbow, Jim O’Rourke and Lasse Marhaug, and of course, Thurston Moore. The two rekindle their thing on »IGUANA’« picking up where 2001’s fabled »4 Guitars Live« performance left off. Here, Giffoni straddles a tabletop synth and FX while Moore attacks his signature Jazzmaster with a drumstick and a screwdriver – vibes fully intact.

Moore is on blistering form, sounding as if he’s taken a step back to refresh his approach since the early ‘00s when he could be spotted moonlighting on any number of basement-adjacent noise sides. Sawing at his strings and turning the guitar into a shrieking resonator, he leaves only faint vapours of the classic Sonic Youth sound as opiating accents on his animalistic wails and rumbles. On the opening half, his whammy – assisted shreds are balanced out by Giffoni’s off-world whirrs and airlocked vibrations, building a dense wall of noise towards an unexpectedly elegiac conclusion. At some point, Giffoni’s rasping churr transforms into a simmering shudder and Moore’s into hymnal drones – squint a bit and you could almost call it pretty.

Of course, they ramp things up on the flip, dissolving the melancholia with smokey white noise and twangy, post-Derek Bailey chimes that Giffoni accompanies with aggy oscillations. Like every great taped noise set, the recording quality is crucial - »IGUANA« was captured from the pit by Guillermo Hernandez Avendano, the dad of Lia Miranda who provides the cover photo. It’s that kinda show.

Some years ago, Kjell Bjørgeengen and Keith Rowe attempted to convert video signals into sound by setting up Rowe’s pickups next to an old CRT monitor, turning its magnetic field into a sound generator. Rowe further developed the system with David Jones at Alfred University, slimming down the setup using a copper coil, a circuit board, a video input, and a telephone pickup. Jones named it the »Flood Coil«, and it’s that instrument you can see on the album’s front cover and that lies at the core of these recordings, made without any physical live input from the artists themselves. In essence, it’s generative music in its purest form.

Bjørgeengen’s video feed is generated by oscillators, then routed into Marhaug’s pedals and then back into the Flood Coil, so any visual shifts alter the sound, and any modification to the sound changes the video. The duo have played this setup live many times, but for this studio version they left the system to do its thing without any intervention for two minutes at a time before moving onto the next idea. They recorded hours and hours using this process and then selected 18 highlights for this album, extracting harsh noise, power electronics, lulling feedback drone, and peculiar rhythmic snippets to show the scope of their technique.

A wall of growling, hi-octane Pulse Demon-style noise opens the set, gradually exposing us to more asymmetric textures, shifting through unstable repetitions that transform Merzbow’s metal-inspired screams into »Aaltopiiri«-era rhythmic noise. It’s remarkable, actually, how much Marhaug and Bjørgeengen can squeeze from the system, chancing on shivering, lower-case chugs and pops, galloping drums, soundsystem subs, and grinding blast beats that sound like Napalm Death’s »Scum« piped through a broken amp stack. It ain’t pretty, but noise/industrial freaks will revel in the fierce delights inside.

The culmination of an incredible six months of touring the new ‘Aria’ live show, Marsh shares his ‘Aria EP’.

Originally birthed as an audio-visual live concept designed to showcase Marsh’s growing catalogue and the many talented vocalists he has worked with, ‘Aria’ began as two UK shows - the first at London’s premium new venue, HERE at Outernet, followed by a night at New Century in Manchester.

More recently the EP has been supported by a run of eight North American shows including dates at New York’s Webster Hall, Los Angeles’ Fonda Theatre, and a set at Montreal’s Piknic Électronik festival. The ‘Aria’ live show reached its final stop at iconic Colorado venue Red Rocks Amphitheatre for Anjunadeep Open Air - a particularly snowy and enchanting performance for all those lucky enough to be there.

The full EP features two brand new Marsh tracks; ‘Mercy’, a hard-hitting club record known for getting the crowd moving on ‘Aria’ tour dates, and ‘Hope’, a softer track with uplifting vocal samples.

The ‘Aria EP’ is out November 15 on Anjunadeep.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!