quête:insidious process

Written during a period of geographic and artistic transition, Country Music traces Severin Black’s movement from London to Berlin, unfolding through cycles of isolation and adaptation. Composed on the city’s periphery, the album’s material was continually dismantled and reassembled, reflecting a process of both artistic and personal reconstruction. The album marks a shift in production methodology, moving away from the immediacy of summed live takes toward a more deliberate, stratified multitrack approach. Sparse yet hypnotic, the record distills layers of sound formed by constant relocation, recurrent solitude, and a recalibration of instinct. In many ways, it echoes the experience of exile, not in a political sense but in the quieter, more insidious form of displacement that alters one’s perception of time and self. The music drifts between structure and dissolution, a reflection of existing at the threshold of different spaces—both physically and sonically.

The shedding of the previously used Nape moniker signaled a decisive sonic transformation, informed by extended time spent in the Pyrenees and a renewed engagement with folkloric material. Severin began playing the clarinet while making this record, and though its presence is minimal, it reveals itself as an interest in acoustic simulation, particularly the digital approximations of classical instruments that emerged within 1990s synthesizer technology. This interrogation of authenticity and mediation parallels the album’s thematic engagement with memory, where recollection functions not as a retrieval of fixed experience but as an iterative process of distortion and reconstruction. The relocation to Berlin reignited an affinity for grime music, evident in the syncopated brass of Pilgrim Wine and the fractured vocal layers of March, while memories of childhood in rural Wales permeate the record’s atmospheric spaces. The album includes contributions from longtime collaborator Vanessa Bedoret and Berlin-based artist Pavel Milyakov (Buttechno).

Country Music situates itself within an unresolved dialogue—between past and speculative futures, between folk lineage and digital fragmentation, between place and its embodied and sonic traces. What emerges is not a fixed statement but a process, an ongoing negotiation between what is left behind and what is brought forward. Words by Chantal Michelle

Mastered by Owen Pratt / Design by Severin Black / Center label image by Nicky Kidd / Back cover text by Alya Kanıbelli

A formidable power trio, hailing in parts from the icy Swedish northlands and the glacial expanse of the Swiss Alps, named after the three Norse goddesses of fate who wove the very tapestry of fate underneath the mythical World Tree, Norna aren't messing around. Their debut album, 2021's `Star is way way is Eye' was saturated filth; uncompromising, unrelenting ugliness. This though, their eponymous sophomore offering, digs its claws deeper into the dirt. Sharpened, hungry and desperate, born of the moment and yet years in the making; `Norna' liberates a primal rage that has been suppressed for far too long. Rather than defining their music around needlessly complex riffs or trapping themselves in established song structures, the band instead built colossal walls of crushing guitar noise before carving away at the chaos to form the bones of each piece. The results are hypnotic, looping dirges; apocalyptic mantras that take on their own shapes and stories, coming to life with each excruciating reprise_ Sculpted the same way as their debut album, with ideas and hooks hewn from a mass of noise held quite literally in the clouds (Dropbox being the band's platform of choice), Norna this time entered the process with a vision; a final, horrific form in mind. As such, the eponymous record pushes their boundaries even further beyond the extreme, with even the briefest moments of calm quickly curdled by the band's use of insidious ambient synthesisers, manipulated samples and even more distortion. Despite only forming in 2020, the three pillars of Norna bring decades of heaviness with them. Consisting of Swedish post-hardcore pioneer Tomas Liljedahl (Breach, The Old Wind) and Swiss stalwarts Christophe Macquat and Marc Theurillat (both of instrumental juggernaut Olten), Norna came together as a perfect storm of abrasive influences, harnessed by friend and producer Magnus Lindberg (Cult of Luna), to create something new, limitless and terrifying.

A formidable power trio, hailing in parts from the icy Swedish northlands and the glacial expanse of the Swiss Alps, named after the three Norse goddesses of fate who wove the very tapestry of fate underneath the mythical World Tree, Norna aren't messing around. Their debut album, 2021's `Star is way way is Eye' was saturated filth; uncompromising, unrelenting ugliness. This though, their eponymous sophomore offering, digs its claws deeper into the dirt. Sharpened, hungry and desperate, born of the moment and yet years in the making; `Norna' liberates a primal rage that has been suppressed for far too long. Rather than defining their music around needlessly complex riffs or trapping themselves in established song structures, the band instead built colossal walls of crushing guitar noise before carving away at the chaos to form the bones of each piece. The results are hypnotic, looping dirges; apocalyptic mantras that take on their own shapes and stories, coming to life with each excruciating reprise_ Sculpted the same way as their debut album, with ideas and hooks hewn from a mass of noise held quite literally in the clouds (Dropbox being the band's platform of choice), Norna this time entered the process with a vision; a final, horrific form in mind. As such, the eponymous record pushes their boundaries even further beyond the extreme, with even the briefest moments of calm quickly curdled by the band's use of insidious ambient synthesisers, manipulated samples and even more distortion. Despite only forming in 2020, the three pillars of Norna bring decades of heaviness with them. Consisting of Swedish post-hardcore pioneer Tomas Liljedahl (Breach, The Old Wind) and Swiss stalwarts Christophe Macquat and Marc Theurillat (both of instrumental juggernaut Olten), Norna came together as a perfect storm of abrasive influences, harnessed by friend and producer Magnus Lindberg (Cult of Luna), to create something new, limitless and terrifying.

Complete with 10" vinyl record and booklet presenting Laurianne Bixhain's photographic work and text by Chloe Chignell.

Presented at the Mudam (Museum of Modern Art of Luxembourg) and initiated by a photographic exploration by Laurianne Bixhain, the work "The day begins with a loud boom" interrogates the manner and extent to which we are defined by our relationship to the physical environment, and the cultural import of the techniques of production. Its imagery follows the trajectories of the materials subjected to the processes of diamond cutting and automotive glassware fabrication, and presents the traces of human intervention of which those materials are both the object and the repository.

The interplay of its imagery, music and text constitutes a theatrical whole: both the staging of the text and the sonorities create an architectural space within which each constituent object is deployed. That spatiality is shared and complemented by the text’s sonorous and performative qualities. Likewise, the elements of texture and abstraction in the imagery invoke our sense of touch, as a means of material and spatial appreciation.

The succeeding reiterations of the ostinato the day begins with are treated graphically by its progressive effacement, evoking the tension in assembly line work between repetition and linearity, accumulation and exhaustion, trace and erasure. Such attrition is equally conveyed by the harsh, impassive, and architectural qualities of both the images and the music which accompany the text. The latter notably deploys a range of insidious effects, from the marriage of dissonance and unsettling rhythm evocative of the competing cycles of multiple industrial machines, to sensual and reassuring sonorities which are contaminated by their contrast with the harsh acoustic aesthetic elsewhere.

Everything clicks on Safe to Run, the fourth album from singer, songwriter Esther Rose - It's the quiet culmination of years spent fully immersed in a developing artistry, and presents Rose's always vividly detailed emotional scenes with new levels of clarity and control As with previous work, her songwriting transfigures the chaos and uncertainty of a life in progress, but here she introduces a newfound pop element that attaches unshakably catchy hooks to even the darkest stretches of the journey. Rose takes an unblinking look at her own vulnerabilities as well as more universal concerns, somehow never taking herself too seriously in the process. This manifests as a critique of the insidious sexism of the music industry on "Dream Girl," but quickly melts into a hazy memoryscape of the dive bar drama and suspended hovering of her early 20s on "Chet Baker." The song "Safe to Run" (a gorgeous duet with Hurray for the Riff Raff's Alynda Segarra) directly merges the personal with the global, superimposing feelings of spiritual displacement onto the larger, looming dread of climate grief. Rose breathes in the ecstasy of the natural world in one line and makes fun of herself a few bars later. There are ghosts in the room for most of her songs, but she's invited them in and is cracking jokes with them over a drink or two. Ultimately all of these new advancements become twinkles of light in the background as they fold into the big picture impact of the songs themselves. Esther Rose translates her world into eleven curious and captivating scenes. While the songs are stunning one by one, absorbing Safe to Run as a whole feels like witnessing something taking shape, experiencing the headspins of the elevation and the slow return to equilibrium as the clouds start clearing

Everything clicks on Safe to Run, the fourth album from singer, songwriter Esther Rose. It’s the quiet culmination of years spent fully immersed in a developing artistry, and presents Rose’s always vividly detailed emotional scenes with new levels of clarity and control. As with previous work, her songwriting transfigures the chaos and uncertainty of a life in progress, but here she introduces a newfound pop element that attaches unshakably catchy hooks to even the darkest stretches of the journey. Rose takes an unblinking look at her own vulnerabilities as well as more universal concerns, somehow never taking herself too seriously in the process. This manifests as a critique of the insidious sexism of the music industry on “Dream Girl,” but quickly melts into a hazy memoryscape of the dive bar drama and suspended hovering of her early 20s on “Chet Baker.” The song “Safe to Run” (a gorgeous duet with Hurray for the Riff Raff’s Alynda Segarra) directly merges the personal with the global, superimposing feelings of spiritual displacement onto the larger, looming dread of climate grief. Rose breathes in the ecstasy of the natural world in one line and makes fun of herself a few bars later. There are ghosts in the room for most of her songs, but she’s invited them in and is cracking jokes with them over a drink or two. Ultimately all of these new advancements become twinkles of light in the background as they fold into the big picture impact of the songs themselves. Esther Rose translates her world into eleven curious and captivating scenes. While the songs are stunning one by one, absorbing Safe to Run as a whole feels like witnessing something taking shape, experiencing the headspins of the elevation and the slow return to equilibrium as the clouds start clearing.

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.

Question everything. Consider your sources. Be wary of ulterior motives, insidious media narratives and even your own unconscious bias. Trust sparingly and try to make smart, informed choices. As the world slides further into ruin, it’s more important than ever to be vigilant and fight back. Luckily, Hacktivist are back to help cut through the noise and bullshit, tooled-up and ready to attack with renewed vigour and reinforced ranks. With Jot Maxi and J. Hurley now sharing the vocal and lyrical load, drummer Rich Hawking and bassist Josh Gurner bringing the beats and rhythms, and guitarist and production don James Hewitt fleshing out the group’s genre-fluid muscle, new album Hyperdialect arrives less like a mission statement and more as a flaming musical Molotov, declaring all-out war. “Hyperdialect isn’t an album for people to just casually listen to,” J insists, “we’ve taken things to the next level, which I didn’t even think was possible. We spit the truth. *We are the truth.*” In 2016, when Hacktivist initially set sights on their enemies with debut album Outside The Box, the world wasn’t fully equipped to heed their warnings and pay attention to its timely rallying cries. They return into a very different one, however – a world that’s sadly now all-too-finely-attuned to the horrors they first forecasted four years ago. “It’s becoming clear that we are on the brink of some type of revolution,” says Jot, with no small dose of conviction or optimism. “Hacktivist are here to bring truth and positivity – the silver lining of a society clouded in poisonous fear. Hacktivist also represents a voice that isn’t afraid of saying what needs to be said. We’re already living in the future. We have the choice to either be shaped by it or to stand up and shape it ourselves. Which path will you take?” It was with those battle lines clearly drawn and ambitions duly set that Hacktivist entered into the creation of Hyperdialect. Starting almost two years ago and developing on the acerbic sonic filth introduced by 2019 singles Reprogram and Dogs Of War, the five-piece felt fired up by their new working dynamic and the collective process involved, with each member actively encouraged to contribute ideas until the best outcome was reached. Unusually, for such a group of bloody-minded insurrectionists, this democratic approach worked wonders – a testament to how much they were all on the same page on these 12 tracks.

‘Giants of All Sizes’ was recorded at Hamburg’s Clouds Hill Studio, The Dairy in Brixton, 604 Studios in Vancouver and Blueprint Studios in Salford with additional recording taking place at various band member’s home studios spread across Manchester. As with their previous four studio albums, ‘Giants’ was produced and mixed by Craig Potter. Guests across the album include Jesca Hoop, The Plumedores and South London newcomer Chilli Chilton.

Given such bleak, if ultimately redeemed, subject matter, it is also, perversely, the most relaxed record which elbow have made in some time. On ‘Giants of All Sizes’, each band member extended their usual process of working on demos alone and followed their vision to its conclusion rather than, as Craig Potter puts it, ‘taking the edges off things to find compromise’. In tandem with this, they returned to playing live in the studio, encouraged to experiment with the banks of analogue equipment at Clouds Hill in Northern Germany, giving songs a looser, more live feel. The result is the most starkly dynamic record from the band in recent times, “Sonically unabashed”, as Guy would have it. Whilst album closer ‘Weightless’ has the gossamer melodies and communal harmonies for which the band have latterly been known, this album echoes earlier elbow work at times whilst also breaking new ground.

‘White Noise White Heat’ is motorik, metal machine soul driven by a vocal that is rage incarnate, ‘Doldrums’ mixes John Carpenter with The Plastic Ono Band to brilliantly disturbing effect and ‘On Deronda Road’ hitches stark bass beats and glitches to an ad-hoc choir. ‘Empires’ delivers dark resignation via an insidious melody and ‘Seven Veils’ continues the subversion by inverting the perception of elbow as a band for lovers into a band for haters, a double-barrelled fuck-you song par excellence. ‘The Delayed 3:15’ marries mariarchi guitars to jazz dynamics, Morricone via Buddy Rich, and ‘My Trouble’ is a clockwork, analogue shuffle housing a delicate melody that builds over the course of the song into a fragile monolith to the power of love.

Lead track, ‘Dexter & Sinister’, released on 10” ahead of the album, encapsulates the whole. A seven-minute musical journey that blends deep bass grooves, sudden keyboard stabs, dislocated piano and guitar runs and soul stylings then abruptly shifts gear, parts the storm clouds and takes wing, flying towards the heat of the sun. It is the soundtrack for these ‘hope free, faith free, charity free days’, a denial of the divine and a reconciliation, two songs in one song, two emotions for one emotion, human, fragile and brilliant like the album which it opens.