Grandmas House release their second EP "Anything For You" via Duchess Box Records on 11th April 2025. "Anything For You" gives rare energy with songs about sacrifice, love, lost and .won. The punk rock group from Bristol, UK, have bave performed at on the BBC Music Introducing Stage at Reading Festival 2023 and played as support on tour for acts such as The Breeders and Idles had a song from their debut EP synched on Apple TV's Bad Sisters which helped start their hype.
Crystal clear vinyl. 'PO$T AMERICAN' is the second full-length album by Dead Pioneers. Written in February and recorded in July, it preempts the 2024 American election but wraps up the fears and frustrations as eloquently and, crucially, humorously as the band's 2023 self-titled debut. "Currently, we are amidst the gross existence of capitalism, colonialism, white supremacy and the many oppressive forces that have come to inform everything around us" says vocalist and songwriter Gregg Deal. "The title PO$T AMERICAN informs a collective disenfranchisement and disillusionment to the so-called American dream, while moving forward with hope of a desired designation of unity outside those that would use us for their own capitalistic power grab." The aural palate is broadly the same, but it feels expanded, stronger somehow: drawing on the confrontational writing of Rage Against The Machine, the unapologetic voice of Chuck D and Public Enemy, the storytelling of Johnny Cash, the evolution of IDLES, and punk stalwarts including Black Flag, Rollins Band and Dead Kennedys. Overall the resulting feeling across the new album is one of cautious optimism: "Although we didn't expect the political relevance to become more relevant, we have no illusions to the American dream, or to where we seem to be going. But we have hope that we can get to a better place for people to have what they need." It is an album that speaks to and for this precise time and place; that perhaps could not exist at any other time. It is an album for now.
CRYSTAL CLEAR VINYL[26,01 €]
Transparent yellow vinyl, limited to 300 copies. GSA exclusive Indie variant. 'PO$T AMERICAN' is the second full-length album by Dead Pioneers. Written in February and recorded in July, it preempts the 2024 American election but wraps up the fears and frustrations as eloquently and, crucially, humorously as the band's 2023 self-titled debut. "Currently, we are amidst the gross existence of capitalism, colonialism, white supremacy and the many oppressive forces that have come to inform everything around us" says vocalist and songwriter Gregg Deal. "The title PO$T AMERICAN informs a collective disenfranchisement and disillusionment to the so-called American dream, while moving forward with hope of a desired designation of unity outside those that would use us for their own capitalistic power grab." The aural palate is broadly the same, but it feels expanded, stronger somehow: drawing on the confrontational writing of Rage Against The Machine, the unapologetic voice of Chuck D and Public Enemy, the storytelling of Johnny Cash, the evolution of IDLES, and punk stalwarts including Black Flag, Rollins Band and Dead Kennedys. Overall the resulting feeling across the new album is one of cautious optimism: "Although we didn't expect the political relevance to become more relevant, we have no illusions to the American dream, or to where we seem to be going. But we have hope that we can get to a better place for people to have what they need." It is an album that speaks to and for this precise time and place; that perhaps could not exist at any other time. It is an album for now.
Stille kann entweder Ruhe oder Stagnation bedeuten. Walt McClements hat sich mit diesen gegensätzlichen Kräften auseinandergesetzt, um "On a Painted Ocean" zu realisieren: eine Suite von Akkordeon und Pfeifenorgel geleiteten Stücken, die einen stetigen Kurs verfolgen, anschwellen und sich mit einer Flut von zarten Emotionen erweitern. Der Komponist und Multiinstrumentalist hat den Titel seines zweiten Albums von Samuel Taylor Coleridges berühmtem Epos "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" und dessen Beschreibung eines Bootes, das auf See feststeckt ("As idle as a painted ship / Upon a painted Ocean"). Es ist ein Eindruck, der sowohl den Prozess als auch das Produkt von McClements' Western Vinyl Veröffentlichung widerspiegelt, vom sanften Entfalten eines rauen Schilfrohrtons im Opener ,A Painted Ship" bis hin zum düsteren, mit Effekten beladenen Drone von "Washed Up" und dem abschließenden Flattern und Signalstörungen, die sich in ,Clattering" geräuschvoll zu triumphaler Euphorie erheben. "On a Painted Ocean" ist das Ergebnis eines Zusammenflusses von Ereignissen und Inspirationen, die sich verändert haben wie das Wetter selbst. Die ersten Skizzen begannen mit dem unerwarteten Zugang zu einer Kirchenorgel in Pasadena im Jahr 2022, bevor diese Skizzen zur Seite gelegt wurden, um sich auf ein arbeitsreiches Jahr als Mitglied der Live-Band von Weyes Blood vorzubereiten. Die Monate im Tourbus mit begrenzten Instrumenten veranlassten McClements dazu, den Klang seines bearbeiteten Akkordeons auf dem Synthesizer nachzubilden, und überlagerte ihn mit den Orgelstücken. Als dieser Zyklus zu Ende ging, war McClements begierig darauf die Platte zu beenden, war sich aber nicht sicher, wie er den Faden wieder aufnehmen sollte. Festgefahren in der Flaute einer kreativen Blockade, nahm McClements seine Spuren von bearbeiteten Akkordeons und Synthesizern, Pfeifenorgel und Melodica, Zungen und Pfeifen, die durch Pedale und Computer laufen, in seine ehemalige Heimat New Orleans zum Karneval mit. Nachdem er ein Jahrzehnt in der Stadt in Louisiana gelebt hatte, bevor er nach Los Angeles zog, fand McClements in einer der ekstatischsten und bedeutungsvollsten Zeiten des Jahres neue Inspiration. Das Ethos der Kunst um der Gemeinschaft willen und die Praktiken der Fürsorge inspirierten ihn den Rat seiner Musikerkollegin und Mentorin Rachika Nayar zu befolgen und Mitstreiter einzubeziehen, darunter auch Nayar selbst, die eine zusätzliche Produktion zu ,Sirens" beisteuert. Aurora Nealand, eine alte Freundin und ehemalige Bandkollegin, antwortete ebenfalls auf den Ruf und fügte Saxophon zu den unruhigen Gewässern von ,Cloud Prints" und ,Parade" hinzu. Der letztgenannte Track ist der klangliche und konzeptionelle Höhepunkt auf McClements' Reise zur Verwirklichung von "On a Painted Ocean", wo eine steigende Tonhöhe und aufgewühlte Segel auf eine Feldaufnahme von Community Care treffen. Ein Verdienst von starken Beziehungen und gegenseitiger Unterstützung, das Album zeichnet als eine persönliche Pilgerreise auf - die Anpassung an die Gezeiten und die Erinnerung daran, dass die Gemeinschaft helfen kann, wenn man sich auf dem Meer festgefahren fühlt.
Yellow Coloured Vinyl[29,37 €]
Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?
You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.
On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.
The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.
Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.
So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:
I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”
Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.
Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,
“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”
And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.
Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.
Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?
You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.
On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.
The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.
Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.
So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:
I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”
Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.
Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,
“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”
And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.
Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.
Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?
You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.
On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.
The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.
Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.
So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:
I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”
Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.
Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,
“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”
And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.
Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.
Behind Pumuky are brothers Jaír and Noé Ramírez, originally from Icod de los Vinos, a small town in northern Tenerife, in the Canary Islands.
For two decades, despite a tumultuous journey with multiple lineup changes and the challenges of island life, they have managed to build an extensive and highly personal discography with labels such as Jabalina, WeAreWolves, as well as Keroxen. In 2025, they release a new chapter in their story: their 5th album titled No sueltes lo Efímero (Don't Let Go of the Ephemeral).
It has been 10 years since they released a full-length album, though they were never idle during this time. In this interim, they released an EP titled Castillo Interior (Keroxen 2020), which Bandcamp described as "In intricately sculpted songs that are utterly hypnotising, the Ramírez brothers explore the border of dreams & reality" Bandcamp / New & Notable Oct 19, 2020. The EP was later remixed by artists like Xiu Xiu and Dntel (Jimmy Tamborello of The Postal Service). During this period, they also collaborated with Elinor Almenara of VVV Trippin'you on the single Metahackeo (Keroxen 2022), part of the new wave of dark music that emerged after the pandemic years.
Pumuky also have an extensive live history, having played in Europe and Latin America, with appearances at major festivals such as Primavera Sound, WOMAD, and the Mexican NRMAL.
No sueltes lo efímero will be released on February 28 through Keroxen, a collective that, in addition to being a platform and label for the best of the Canary Islands' underground scene, organises a small, unique music festival inside a giant abandoned kerosene tank in Santa Cruz de Tenerife—an event that has already garnered praise worldwide.
The album was recorded at La Mina Studios (Granada, Spain) with Raúl Pérez, one of the most respected producers in the Spanish music scene, and then mastered by Rafal Anton Irisarri, a key figure in the ambient world who also appreciates the power of guitars.
In No sueltes lo efímero, Pumuky return to their signature sound, although they have never completely abandoned it: an abrasive slowcore with controlled crescendos and raw, unfiltered lyrics, sometimes bordering on the intensity of dirty shoegaze, at other times leaning into dream-pop passages, but always with the unique stamp that has characterised them from the start.
A rare breed, difficult to categorise, Pumuky write songs as if performing escape tricks.
It took a village to create Le Motel’s Odd Numbers / Số Lẻ. Beneath its pulsing, shimmering tones, the record is alive with the sounds of everyday life—purring mopeds, idle whistling, the din of kitchens and whisper of rain, voices joyful and contemplative, scenes of bustling cities and domestic intimacy.
Le Motel—who runs the Brussels-based record label Maloca—gathered sounds, photographs, and videos while traveling in Vietnam in 2023. From Hanoi he ventured to Hmong communities in the mountains near the border with China, building out a network of contacts gathered from friends and friends of friends. But Odd Numbers / Số
Lẻ—which takes its title from traditional Vietnamese numerological beliefs and customs—is wholly unlike the extractive product typical of exploitative modes of Western tourism; the album’s final shape was deeply dependent upon the participation of the people the artist met in Vietnam.
Back in Brussels after his travels, as Le Motel began working with his materials, he sent early drafts to his contacts, inviting their input. This back-and-forth eventually yielded a dynamic collective effort in which nine of the album’s 15 tracks feature multiple composer credits. Among the album’s diverse collaborators are Yvonne Quỳnh-Lan Dươn, an educator and ethnomusicologist; Chi Chi, the daughter of a Hmong shaman; and Phapxa Chan, who contributes three poems inspired by landscape and Le Motel’s own music (and, in one case, psychedelics).
The result is an album that is not about making sound, broadcasting it as a one-way communication, but instead about the empathic practice of listening—about listening as an integral and even ethical part of musical creation, even (especially!) when that music is created on a computer, rather than conjured by a group of players sharing space in real time. It’s an album that adopts many of the traditional trappings of ambient music while reminding us of the importance of intentional modes of creation. Brian Eno famously said that ambient music must be as ignorable as it is interesting, but Le Motel’s Odd Numbers / Số Lẻ suggests, to the contrary, the richness of experience available to us should we make the effort to open our ears.
Complementing the album, Le Motel’s Odd Numbers / Số Lẻ also takes the form of a multimedia exhibition including photographs, video, and text-based works created in collaboration with Belgian designer and programmer Antoine Jaunard and Vietnamese poet Phapxa Chan. The exhibition is on view from January 23 until March 2, at Brussels’ 254Forest gallery, as part of Photo Brussels Festival 2025.
Nachdem er Mick Jones und Joe Idles als Support bei der Debüt-LP "Sikh Punk" (2020) holte, übernimmt Symren Gharial AKA Primitive Ignorant (ex-Bassist bei Piano Wire und Eighties Matchbox) beim "Psychic Cinema" den Grossteil der Vocals selbst. Auch verzichtet er auf Gitarren und gibt mit dem Bass das Tempo vor, untermalt von schmutzigen Samples und sparsamer Futurepop-Produktion, während der Sound um Ambient-, Hip-Hop- und kolossale Rockelemente angereichert wird. Zu den Einflüssen zählen Young Fathers, Yves Tumor, Nadine Shah, Ghostpoet, Ghost Town, Weatherall, Ashnikko, Warmduscher und Viagra Boys, und wie immer "Sandinista" und Iggy Pop (der als Inspiration für das Cover-Snap diente). Linker, basszentrierter Alt-Pop.
Mit "Conditions III" vollendet die Electro-Punk-Band Chalk aus Belfast ihre gleichnamige EP-Trilogie. Aufgenommen vor trostlosen Landschaften im abgelegenen Norden Islands, legen Chalk eine weitere Entwicklung ihres bereits konfrontativen Sounds vor, der Industrial-Noise, Post-Punk und Techno-Breakbeats zu einem euphorischen und beängstigenden Gothic-Hybriden verschmelzt. Die Gewinner des nordirischen NI Music Prize als "Bester Live-Act 2023" bewiesen auf ausverkauften Headliner-Shows und Support-Slots für IDLES, SPRINTS und PVA, dass sie diesen Titel verdienen.
Cassette[15,92 €]
"Never Exhale" ist der Sound einer Band, die keine Atempause einlegt. DITZ sind seit der Veröffentlichung ihres ersten Albums "The Great Regression" (2023) unermüdlich auf Tour. Die Songs ihres neuesten Angebots wurden in ganz Europa geschrieben, oft an freien Tagen und in geliehenen Proberäumen. Man könnte sagen, dass die Band das Aufnehmen und Veröffentlichen von Musik als nachträglichen Einfall betrachtet. Oft spielen sie Songs Jahre vor der Veröffentlichung live und optimieren sie dabei. Die Songs auf der endgültigen Platte können sich ändern, bevor sie jemals als Teil des Albums zu hören sind.
"Never Exhale" wurde grösstenteils in den Holy Mountain Studios in London während eines eiskalten Januars aufgenommen. Der Prozess war voller Hindernisse, da der ursprüngliche Plan, in Rhode Island aufzunehmen, durch das Angebot einer Support-Tour mit IDLES aufgegeben wurde, obwohl das Album immer noch vom ursprünglich vorgesehenen Toningenieur Seth Manchester (Model/Actriz, Lingua Ignota, Big Brave) gemischt wurde. Das Ergebnis ist ein Werk, das durch den Druck seiner eigenen Entstehung gehärtet wurde. Mühsam, aber nicht geliebt.
Die Themen der LP offenbaren sich beim wiederholten Anhören. Von der Erkundung dessen, wie es wäre, seinen Einfluss auf die Welt abzuwägen, dem heiligen Petrus, unnötigem Hass und Spaltung, Altern, der Trennung des Physischen von der Realität. Es ist politisch, aber letztendlich persönlich. Mehr Genet oder Kafka als Orwell oder Huxley. Soundtechnisch hat "Never Exhale" seine Wurzeln in den üblichen DITZ-Einflüssen, klassischem Noise-Rock wie The Jesus Lizard oder Shellac oder dem stumpfen Post-Punk von The Fall, bringt aber auch frische Einflüsse ein. Der letzte Track "Britney" könnte mit Radiohead oder Mogwai verglichen werden. Insgesamt ist das neue Album eine klare Weiterentwicklung ihres Debüts. Und ein Zeichen der Dinge, die kommen werden.
Black Vinyl[29,37 €]
"Never Exhale" ist der Sound einer Band, die keine Atempause einlegt. DITZ sind seit der Veröffentlichung ihres ersten Albums "The Great Regression" (2023) unermüdlich auf Tour. Die Songs ihres neuesten Angebots wurden in ganz Europa geschrieben, oft an freien Tagen und in geliehenen Proberäumen. Man könnte sagen, dass die Band das Aufnehmen und Veröffentlichen von Musik als nachträglichen Einfall betrachtet. Oft spielen sie Songs Jahre vor der Veröffentlichung live und optimieren sie dabei. Die Songs auf der endgültigen Platte können sich ändern, bevor sie jemals als Teil des Albums zu hören sind.
"Never Exhale" wurde grösstenteils in den Holy Mountain Studios in London während eines eiskalten Januars aufgenommen. Der Prozess war voller Hindernisse, da der ursprüngliche Plan, in Rhode Island aufzunehmen, durch das Angebot einer Support-Tour mit IDLES aufgegeben wurde, obwohl das Album immer noch vom ursprünglich vorgesehenen Toningenieur Seth Manchester (Model/Actriz, Lingua Ignota, Big Brave) gemischt wurde. Das Ergebnis ist ein Werk, das durch den Druck seiner eigenen Entstehung gehärtet wurde. Mühsam, aber nicht geliebt.
Die Themen der LP offenbaren sich beim wiederholten Anhören. Von der Erkundung dessen, wie es wäre, seinen Einfluss auf die Welt abzuwägen, dem heiligen Petrus, unnötigem Hass und Spaltung, Altern, der Trennung des Physischen von der Realität. Es ist politisch, aber letztendlich persönlich. Mehr Genet oder Kafka als Orwell oder Huxley. Soundtechnisch hat "Never Exhale" seine Wurzeln in den üblichen DITZ-Einflüssen, klassischem Noise-Rock wie The Jesus Lizard oder Shellac oder dem stumpfen Post-Punk von The Fall, bringt aber auch frische Einflüsse ein. Der letzte Track "Britney" könnte mit Radiohead oder Mogwai verglichen werden. Insgesamt ist das neue Album eine klare Weiterentwicklung ihres Debüts. Und ein Zeichen der Dinge, die kommen werden.
Die aus Bristol (UK) kommenden IDLES haben heute ihr kommendes fünftes Album 'TANGK' angekündigt. 'TANGK', der 11-Track-Nachfolger ihres Grammy-nominierten Albums CRAWLER, wurde von Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, The Smile, Beck), Mark Bowen und Kenny Beats (Denzel Curry, Vince Staples, Benee) und der Band selbst co-produziert. 'TANGK' - ausgesprochen "Tank" mit einem Hauch von "g" und einer lautmalerischen Anspielung auf den peitschenden Gitarrensound, den sich die Band als eine Art Siegel für das Leben in der Liebe vorstellte - ist das bisher ehrgeizigste und eindrucksvollste Album der Band.
IDLES sind eine der stärksten Rockbands des letzten Jahrzehnts. Godrich, Beats und Bowen waren auch für die IDLES ein hervorragendes Tandem, das sie in neues Terrain vorstieß und dann die Zügel anzog, wenn es nötig war. 'TANGK' ist gleichzeitig ausladend und konzentriert, einfallsreich und unmittelbar. Über das Album sagt Sänger Joe Talbot: "TANGK. Ich brauchte Liebe. Also habe ich es gemacht. Ich habe der Welt Liebe gegeben und es fühlt sich wie Magie an. Dies ist unser Album der Dankbarkeit und der Kraft. Alles Liebeslieder. Alles ist Liebe."
Wo IDLES einst darauf aus waren, die Welt zu verarschen, den ewig Gestrigen die Stirn zu bieten und persönliche Traumata in Echtzeit zu exorzieren, sind sie in diesem neuen Akt angekommen, um die Früchte solcher Beharrlichkeit anzubieten: Liebe, Freude und tatsächlich Dankbarkeit für die bloße Möglichkeit der Existenz. Diese Musik gedeiht nicht trotz unserer Probleme, sondern wegen ihnen. Wenn wir uns nicht um uns selbst und um die anderen kümmern, so scheint 'TANGK' in einem gewaltigen Hook nach dem anderen auszurufen, wer dann?
Black Country, New Road is a new seven-piece: Charlie (Drums), Georgia (Violin), Isaac (Guitars/Vocals), Lewis (Saxophone), May (Synthesiser), Luke (Guitar) and Tyler (Bass), due to release their debut album on Ninja Tune. The latest stars from the burgeoning and famed Brixton Windmill scene, which also fostered the rise of contemporaries Black Midi, Squid and more.
‘For The First Time’ features six new songs, including reinterpretations of early tracks ‘Sunglasses’ and ‘Athens, France’.
2019 saw multiple sold-out headline dates across the UK (1700 tickets in London) as well as in Europe, with more highlights including supporting Fat White Family on their UK tour and coheadlines with Black Midi, Squid and Goat Girl.
Festival appearances in 2019 included 6 Music Festival at London’s Roundhouse, Latitude, End of the Road and Visions.
For fans of IDLES, Black Midi, Squid, Fontaines DC, Goat Girl, Phoebe Bridgers, Jockstrap, Nick Cave.
CD in cardboard colour printed wallet with 16-page lyric booklet and sticker.
140g vinyl in 350gsm cardboard colour sleeve with matte finish,
16-page lyric booklet, sticker and digital download code.
“One of the UK’s best new live acts” - The Guardian (Ones To Watch)
“The best band in the world right now” - The Quietus
Debut collaborative album from Troth, the Nipaluna-based duo of Amelia Besseny and Cooper Bowman, and kindred spirit and legendary Mancunian free-form guitarist Jon Collin. A lavish dreamscape conjuring the dramatic beauty of uncharted mountains and streams, it documents both the crystilisation of ideas first shared during an Australian encounter in early 2023 and years of mutual appreciation.
Troth’s sonic universe, a constellation of drifting atmospherics, bedroom pop impulse and modern classical motifs, is deeply intimate and never rushed. Recent sides Forget The Curse and Idle Easel and live performances supporting the likes of Maxine Funke and Treasury of Puppies have seen Besseny’s soaring, celestial voice take centre stage, delicately adorned with Bowman’s synthesiser flourishes and homespun instrumentation. At their heart lies Bowman’s tireless collaborative instinct: his decade-long involvement in the Australian underground and his countless musical outfits (including contemporary trio Th Blisks, with Besseny and Yuta Matsumura).
Summer 2023 saw the duo host two shows for Collin in their former home of Mulubinba, regional New South Wales. Collin is perhaps best known for his playing, deconstructing and reconfiguring of the guitar and other stringed instruments, realised in solo works on his own Early Music and Winebox Press imprints, and collaborations on a trio of albums with Demdike Stare and live sessions with Sarah Hughes and Bill Nace. His unique style of playing, sometimes delicate, at other times frictional, refutes expectations of traditional instruments and fits perfectly within both Troth’s ethos and their lush sonic mise-en-scène.
The objects of devotion perhaps symbolise the group’s devotion towards each other during their music-making process, and the fruits from which they are borne. “I think, any music I have a hand in, is a dialogue with by the people I'm making it with. It's an ongoing conversation between people and sound”, reflects Bowman. The sacredness and ominousness of remote Tasmania is just as affecting, the interplay of Besseny’s haunting vocal washes, Bowman’s sparse instrumentation and Collin’s ritualistic strum evoking the eeriness that lurks beneath the seemingly limitless Australian landscape. “When I think about it, it sounds like being together at the bottom of the Earth. Watching, listening and playing together with no-one else in sight."
