Cerca:k line

Trey Gruber's posthumous debut double LP Herculean House of Cards. A compilation of early demos, studio demos, and live recordings. A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet's worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards. The 26-song 2xLP covers years of material, from home tape recordings, sessions at Mathew Roberts (Mild High Club) & Paul Cherry's home studio, to a studio session with Charles Glanders (Whitney) at Chicago's Foxhall Studios, along with audio taken at The Hideout during his last live performance, among others. Though Gruber was an unrelenting perfectionist who was constantly self-deprecating about his best demos, Herculean House of Cards is a wholly comprehensive and accurate reflection of his infectious charisma and raw songwriting. He had a charmingly distinct way with words but also could be disarmingly vulnerable. Like he was in life, Gruber never shied away from being open with his struggles with alcoholism and addiction. On the vivid opener "Eisenhower to the West Side," he sings in painstaking detail of, "A jail-skin cell, a junkies fight/Corner-boys full of grace/And Jesus Christ full of spite." He told then-future bandmate flautist Rebecca Ridge, "It's not some Lou Reed glorification of drugs _ `makes me feel like a man'_ I talk about the disconnect and the ugliness. They're sad pop songs." But even with the pain and the darkness in his lyrics, Gruber's songs had an unmistakable sense of hope and catharsis.

Trey Gruber's posthumous debut double LP Herculean House of Cards. A compilation of early demos, studio demos, and live recordings. A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet's worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards. The 26-song 2xLP covers years of material, from home tape recordings, sessions at Mathew Roberts (Mild High Club) & Paul Cherry's home studio, to a studio session with Charles Glanders (Whitney) at Chicago's Foxhall Studios, along with audio taken at The Hideout during his last live performance, among others. Though Gruber was an unrelenting perfectionist who was constantly self-deprecating about his best demos, Herculean House of Cards is a wholly comprehensive and accurate reflection of his infectious charisma and raw songwriting. He had a charmingly distinct way with words but also could be disarmingly vulnerable. Like he was in life, Gruber never shied away from being open with his struggles with alcoholism and addiction. On the vivid opener "Eisenhower to the West Side," he sings in painstaking detail of, "A jail-skin cell, a junkies fight/Corner-boys full of grace/And Jesus Christ full of spite." He told then-future bandmate flautist Rebecca Ridge, "It's not some Lou Reed glorification of drugs _ `makes me feel like a man'_ I talk about the disconnect and the ugliness. They're sad pop songs." But even with the pain and the darkness in his lyrics, Gruber's songs had an unmistakable sense of hope and catharsis.

Limited Whirlpool Blue Vinyl! Auckland, New Zealand post-punk group Guardian Singles return to Trouble In Mind for their follow-up to 2021's debut with "Feed Me To The Doves", a ten-track socio-political burner addressing our collective spiritual chaos that pulls influence from across the history of punk & permeates it into something decidedly Aotearoan & uniquely their own in ways that are both personal & universal. "Feed Me To The Doves" is the first album to feature the current, long-standing lineup of Thom Burton (guitar, vocals), Fiona Campbell (drums), Yolanda Fagan (bass), and Durham Fenwick (lead guitar). The band has been playing live together now for a few years & it shows. The songs herein vary from the deeply personal, to sketches or postcards, as Burton says "_scribbled while watching the dregs of a delirious culture war play out through broken smartphones and praline vape clouds." Expertly recorded at Neil Finn's Roundhead Studios in Auckland by engineer Steven Marr, who Burton says had a "great sense of being able to keep the urgency of the songs while adding lushness and keeping things sounding like they're about to break at any second". Marr helped turn the album's scrappy beginnings into something more cohesive and beautiful.

1988 machte sich ein Mitarbeiter der Firma Noise Records
selbstständig und gründete TRC (The Record Company). Neben
den Dirty Strangers (mit Mitgliedern der Rolling Stones) und
der spanischen Hardrockband Helpless, gab es diese seltsame
Platte mit dem futuristischen Auge auf dem Cover: MYSTERY.
Schon bei Veröffentlichung im Jahr 1988 hat die LP gnadenlos
polarisiert. Während man sich im deutschen Metal Hammer mit drei
Punkten und einer etwas hilflos wirkenden Kritik zufrieden geben
musste, erntete man im englischen Kerrang eine Vier-K-Wertung
und Aussagen wie „Was wir hier haben ist der interessanteste
Progressive-Thrash-Crossover, den ich seit Langem gehört habe“.
Rückblickend ist dennoch klar: Für dieses Album war die Welt 1988
noch nicht bereit.

Hört man sich die hochgradig eigenwilligen und definitiv auch
einzigartigen Stücke von Mystery an, dann kann man bereits
vermuten, dass hier keine jungen Heavy Metal Fans am Werke
waren, die auf den Pfaden ihrer Idole wanderten. Die Songs stecken
voller Ideen, die die meisten Metalmusiker niemals in dieser Form
gehabt hätten. Und auch die Umsetzung ließ schon immer den
Verdacht aufkommen, dass hier Profimusiker aus einem anderen
Genre beauftragt wurden, ein Heavy Metal Album zu schreiben und
aufzunehmen – natürlich standesgemäß mit Künstlernamen wie
The Lion oder Mike Battista. Genau dies hat sich nun nach Jahren
der Nachforschungen bewahrheitet und wird am VÖ-Tag enthüllt.
Danach dürfte die Scheibe auch bei einer anderen Zielgruppe zu
einem Objekt der Begierde werden…doch mehr wird hier und heute
noch nicht verraten.

Das Booklet enthält Liner Notes von Sänger „Gerald L.“, die die
Hintergründe (inklusive Namen und Orten) erzählen. Dazu gesellt
sich Neudi (Manilla Road, Trance, A&R bei Golden Core), der als
großer Fan der LP seit den Neunzigern an der „Aufklärung des Falles
Mystery“ gearbeitet hat und erst 2022 damit Erfolg gehabt hat.
Dies hat zeitgleich zur Wiederveröffentlichung geführt, nachdem die
Rechteverhältnisse (es gibt nur noch einen lebenden Musiker der
Mystery-Besetzung) geklärt werden konnten.
Auch heute wird nicht jeder Metalfan in die Welt von Mystery
hineinfinden, doch wer es schafft, hat ein Album fürs Leben
gefunden und muss sich der Suchtgefahr hingeben. Gleichförmige
Metalalben gab es in den letzten 40 Jahren schon genug…

Auch die Schweiz hatte (und hat) in punkto harter Musik
einiges zu bieten. Sacrifice aus Délemont gründeten sich
bereits 1982 und machten zwei Jahre später mit einer heute
sehr raren EP auf sich aufmerksam. Der griffig arrangierte Mix
aus Heavy Metal und Hardrock kam nicht nur überregional gut
an, sondern rief auch die deutsche Firma GAMA auf den Plan,
die 1985 das Debüt „On The Altar Of Rock“ auf ihrem Label
Camel veröffentlichten. In gutem Zustand müssen Sammler
heute mit 50 Euro und mehr rechnen, um die Original-LP mit
dem geschmackvollen Cover zu erstehen. 1990 erschien eine
CD der Platte (Aurophon). 1991 nahm man unter dem Namen
Jade ein weiteres Album auf, welches sich eher dem Hardrock
zuwendet.
„Encyclopedia Metallum“ listet die Band als Heavy/Power
Metal und damit liegt man, zumindest für das Jahr 1985, auch
richtig. Viele Jahre blieb die LP unbeachtet, bekam aber mit
dem Aufkommen des Internet und sozialen Medien immer
mehr (junge) Fans dazu. So erscheint eine CD Version des
Albums bei einer südamerikanischen Firma, während Golden
Core das Vinyl neu ins Rennen schickt.
Diese Wiederveröffentlichung entstand in Zusammenarbeit mit
einigen ehemaligen Bandmitgliedern, so dass ein bedrucktes
Inlay mit Liner Notes und Fotos möglich war. Die Spielzeit ist
trotz den Bonustracks auf einem Level geblieben, welches eine
bestmögliche Klangqualität garantiert.
Der Track „Little Killer Man“ wurde Ende 2020 auf der von
Golden Core veröffentlichten Doppel CD „The Best Of And
The Rare Of GAMA Records“ veröffentlicht und bekam in
zahlreichen Reviews eine Nennung.

Berlin based producer Blush Response returns to Megastructure_ for his first full length release since 2021’s Reconstitution, NEUROSCAPE

9 tracks of absolutely screaming and energetic Post-Industrial Techno / IDM for those looking for sounds on the fringes of reality. Driving, pulsating, organic alien grooves populate the dense landscape of sound and showcase the next evolution in Blush’s sonic signature.

Neuroscape features collaborations from Bon Harris of Nitzer Ebb (a rare vocal appearance!) on Chained, and Richard Devine on Foldspace Transition – a track that was started in Devine’s studio in Atlanta and then completed in Berlin. Blush also makes his first apperance on vocals in nearly a decade, with the opening track, Submit.








h 8 Chained Feat. Bon Harris
Feat. Richard Devine

Red Vinyl

The Cinematic Orchestra haben anlässlich des 20-jährigen Jubiläums die erste Reissue ihres Klassikers, „Every Day“, angekündigt. Auf 3 LPs auf transparentem rotem Vinyl finden sich die Bonustracks „Oregon“ und „Horizon“ (feat. Niara Scarlett) sowie die beiden bisher unveröffentlichten Tracks „Semblance“ und „Flite“ (Original Version). Die Veröffentlichung enthält ein neues Artwork vom Designer des ursprünglichen Artworks von „Every Day“, Openmind, und eine Klapphülle mit Gilles Petersons Original-Linernotes. Außerdem wird eine Auswahl von bisher unveröffentlichten Fotos auf einer 12“-Karte präsentiert, darunter die Band im Rivoli Ballroom in London (fotografiert von Carl Fox) und J. Swinscoe mit Fontella Bass in der Nähe des Genfer Sees in der Schweiz (von Peter Williams).
In den zwei Jahrzehnten seit der bahnbrechenden Veröffentlichung des Albums ist der Einfluss der Band unüberhörbar geworden; Jazz ist überall um uns herum, mit gefeierten Künstler:innen, von Kamasi Washington über Tau5 und Koma Saxo bis hin zu Sons of Kemet und unzähligen mehr, London, Berlin und L.A. haben in letzter Zeit eine Szene hervorgebracht, die produktiver ist, als irgendjemand erwartet hätte. BADBADNOTGOOD haben Jazz-Soundtracks zu großen Modeschauen geliefert, und Kendrick Lamar hat - über den Rap-Umweg - das Genre an die Spitze der Charts gebracht. Die Art und Weise, wie sich The Cinematic Orchestra über ihre anfänglichen Jazz-Einflüsse hinaus zu einer Art transzendentaler Orchestrierung entwickelt hat, kombiniert mit der zeitgenössischen eleganten Elektronik, die heute von Künstler:innen wie Ólafur Arnalds und Floating Points verwendet wird - Künstler:innen, denen sie geholfen haben, den Weg zu ebnen - begann mit der Veröffentlichung von „Every Day“ wirklich Früchte zu tragen. Auf den sieben makellosen, schwebenden Tracks nimmt die Gruppe (angeführt von Gründungsmitglied J. Swinscoe und seinem langjährigen musikalischen Mitarbeiter Dominic Smith) die Hörer mit auf eine Reise durch klassischen Soul, Jazz, Chorsätze, versinkenden Horn-Riffs, pochenden Harfen-Linien, Minimalismus und vieles mehr - mit einer Seele, die tiefer als der Ozean ist. Und mit Gästen vom Kaliber eines Fontella Bass (Autor und Interpret des 60er-Jahre-Soul-Meisterwerks, „Rescue Me“ und Mitglied der Free-Jazz-Abtrünnigen, Art Ensemble of Chicago) und der britischen Rap-Legende Roots Manuva (dessen hochfliegender, philosophischer Beitrag zu „All Things To All Men“ ein absoluter Fan-Favorit ist) weiß man, dass man sich auf etwas Besonderes freuen darf. Pitchfork stimmte dem seinerzeit zu und bewertete das Album bei Veröffentlichung mit 8,6 von möglichen 10 Punkten.

Format: Limitierte rot-transparente Vinyl im Gatefold Sleeve mit vier Bonus Tracks von welchen einige bisher nicht auf Vinyl erhältlich waren inklusive 12” Fotokarte und Downloadcode

Brilliantly remastered (picture) LP/CD with new stunning artwork!
Lo-Fi India Abuse was recorded in 1998, some tracks are “pure” Muslimgauze and some are re-mixs of tracks from Systemwide’s “Sirius” CD (see also Systemwide meets Muslimgauze “at the City of the Dead” 12″). Nearly all of the tracks have hand percussion in varying tempos and intensities and at least 1/2 make use of electronic noise surges. The sound is very crisp and clean, extremely well produced, recorded and nicely varied throughout the length of the disc. Some track by track comments: “Antalya” is obviously from the same sessions as “Fakir Sind” seeing as it shares the same hand percussion sound, whistles, vocal wailing, cut-ups and delays. “Valencia Flames” sounds like a Systemwide remix. A dub bass line, hi-hat and background vocal of some sort are all obliterated by numerous delays, starts, stops and re-starts with an unpredictable nature in these cut-up tracks. “Al Souk Dub” injects background voices, market sounds and drones into the cut-up mix of slow hand percussion playing. “Catacomb Dub” and the final two tracks make use of twinkling synth waves, presumably a Systemwide sound source. “Dust of Saqqara” has a heavy pulsating electronic sound wave over an old beat box rhythm. “Android Cleaver” is brutal (as is “Nommos’ Afterburn”) hand percussion, jabs of noise and an oft repeated, unintelligible vocal sample. Yes, Lo-Fi India Abuse is yet another great Muslimgauze release, grab it!
All tracks recorded by Muslimgauze 1998
Some tracks are re-mixes from Systemwide’s “Sirius” album
Re-mastered by Višeslav Laboš
Sleeve by Oleg Galay
Originally released in 1999 via BSI Records (BSI 1999-3).

All tracks from 2021 transfers and newly remastered - LP editions include a booklet featuring unseen photos and liner notes by Lenny Kaye, plus contributions from Nick Cave and Devendra Banhart // Karen Dalton's 1971 album, In My Own Time, stands as a true masterpiece by one of music's most mysterious, enigmatic, and enduringly influential artists. Celebrating the album's 50th anniversary, Light in the Attic is honored to present a newly remastered (2021) edition of the album on LP, CD, cassette, and 8-Track. All audio has been newly remastered by Dave Cooley, while lacquers were cut by Phil Rodriguez at Elysian Masters. A newly expanded booklet-featuring rarely seen photos, liner notes from musician and writer Lenny Kaye, and contributions from Nick Cave and Devendra Banhart-rounds out the CD (32-pgs) and LP (20-pgs) packages.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Like many debut solo albums from musicians in bands, Jared Mattson’s Peanut didn’t originally come from a need to break away. As a composer for the Mattson 2, Jared Mattson was working up a batch of new songs through the winter of 2019-2020, looking ahead to the next album he and brother Jonathan Mattson, the blitzkrieging drummer, would record. As the pandemic hit stateside, Jared holed up in his home studio and kept developing the new music. And during that process it became increasingly clear to them that this wasn’t shaping up to be the next Mattson 2 album. This was a Mattson 1 album.

Jared had been absorbing the guitar work on records by reggae stalwarts Aswad and Burning Spear, and also the Police’s Andy Summer and the ways he gives songs space. And Jared wanted a prominent bass sound, too, where the guitar itself sometimes settles into the passenger seat so that the bass can drive. Lyrically, the album taps into our rattled world, where anxiety, loss, violence, and regret are sometimes pierced by the promise of love. The time spent working on the album was a profoundly introspective time as he reflected on past relationships while living through and writing during the pandemic, he also never lost sight of this truth about himself: Life is great with music.

One of the album’s standout highlights is “Burn Down Babylon,” which is propelled by the bass’s funk-you-say groove. You don’t often encounter many pop songs with so blunt an opening line as, “I got punched in the face last night by a neo-Nazi,”—a true experience that was delivered many years ago in a bar brawl in Carlsbad, California. But to hear the music that goes along with this tale manages a vibe that is less melee and more backyard jubilee.

When “Please Come Here,” with an intro that slinks along like a Cadillac on a Sunday morning drive, kicks in, it’s typical of the album’s melodic pop flourishes, but the twist here is that the vocals are in Japanese (The Mattson 2 have toured Japan 20 times and covered many Japanese pop songs on 2018’s Vaults of Eternity: Japan). Ween’s “She Wanted to Leave” is the lone cover, but the way Jared reimagines the song makes it fits seamlessly within the album’s sonic template. The song’s inclusion was also a personal way to honor one of Jared’s best friends, who died from cancer two years ago. The two had always bonded over the song and marveled at its inherent beauty. Ultimately, Mattson’s solo debut unfolds like a string of fascinating clouds: These are not songs in a hurry; they shift around as they float by, and, most notably, they carry their unique kind of electric charge.

Belgian junk jazz trio schroothoop (which translates as 'junk yard') bring together multi-instrumentalists Rik Staelens (wind & string instruments), Timo Vantyghem (bass & thumb piano) and Margo Maex (percussion). Their new album called 'MACADAM' will be out April 7 via Sdban Records, home of many strongholds in the lively contemporary Belgian jazz and groove scene.

In 2020, schroothoop first emerged with their much-acclaimed and infectious debut album Klein Gevaarlijk Afval (Small Hazardous Waste). "Music on homemade instruments with a surprisingly good result" (De Standaard). "Schroothoop show that material limitation can be liberating and that sometimes the source of new sounds is just old junk."(Written in music). "We assure you that this "scrap heap" is worth gold!" (Le Grigri).

On their second album, to be released on April 7, schroothoop explore the vast sounds of discarded objects found on the macadam streets of Brussels. Wooden crates turn into guitars and lyres. Scrap metal becomes a thumb piano, a cimbalom, or percussion bells. Their compelling collection of semi-improvised songs is born out of several fruitful residencies and live performances during which Margo Maex, Rik Staelens and Timo Vantyghem dive deeper into the possibilities and unique timbres of their DIY instruments.

The junk jazz trio find inspiration in traditional Afro-Cuban and North-African rhythms, New Orleans second line grooves, and Arabic Hijaz scales. On Macadam, the band also explore the realms of electronic music, not shunning hints of drum and bass, dub riddims and ambient soundscapes, using pitch shifting delays or gauzy reverbs. The album delivers a mesmerizing trip through the most diverse capital of Europe, mixed and post-produced by none other than sound wizard Dijf Sanders.

The trio originally met in the Brussels street orchestra scene. One night they found themselves jamming on trash cans, buckets and other illegally dumped materials. Soon after, they started building their own DIY instruments from street trash. Imagine flutes made out of pvc pipes, a scrap metal drum kit, thumb pianos made out of old kitchen knives, a tin can violin, worn-out cutting discs as gongs, and a washtub bass. Delivering their own brand of "junk jazz", Schroothoop literally gives junk a second life by immortalizing a whole range of lost and found objects through music. The Brussels-based group effortlessly incorporates jazz, Northern African music, and Afro-Cuban rhythms, resulting in a danceable and hypnotic trip through the city's melting pot.

Belgian junk jazz trio schroothoop (which translates as 'junk yard') bring together multi-instrumentalists Rik Staelens (wind & string instruments), Timo Vantyghem (bass & thumb piano) and Margo Maex (percussion). Their new album called 'MACADAM' will be out April 7 via Sdban Records, home of many strongholds in the lively contemporary Belgian jazz and groove scene.

In 2020, schroothoop first emerged with their much-acclaimed and infectious debut album Klein Gevaarlijk Afval (Small Hazardous Waste). "Music on homemade instruments with a surprisingly good result" (De Standaard). "Schroothoop show that material limitation can be liberating and that sometimes the source of new sounds is just old junk."(Written in music). "We assure you that this "scrap heap" is worth gold!" (Le Grigri).

On their second album, to be released on April 7, schroothoop explore the vast sounds of discarded objects found on the macadam streets of Brussels. Wooden crates turn into guitars and lyres. Scrap metal becomes a thumb piano, a cimbalom, or percussion bells. Their compelling collection of semi-improvised songs is born out of several fruitful residencies and live performances during which Margo Maex, Rik Staelens and Timo Vantyghem dive deeper into the possibilities and unique timbres of their DIY instruments.

The junk jazz trio find inspiration in traditional Afro-Cuban and North-African rhythms, New Orleans second line grooves, and Arabic Hijaz scales. On Macadam, the band also explore the realms of electronic music, not shunning hints of drum and bass, dub riddims and ambient soundscapes, using pitch shifting delays or gauzy reverbs. The album delivers a mesmerizing trip through the most diverse capital of Europe, mixed and post-produced by none other than sound wizard Dijf Sanders.

The trio originally met in the Brussels street orchestra scene. One night they found themselves jamming on trash cans, buckets and other illegally dumped materials. Soon after, they started building their own DIY instruments from street trash. Imagine flutes made out of pvc pipes, a scrap metal drum kit, thumb pianos made out of old kitchen knives, a tin can violin, worn-out cutting discs as gongs, and a washtub bass. Delivering their own brand of "junk jazz", Schroothoop literally gives junk a second life by immortalizing a whole range of lost and found objects through music. The Brussels-based group effortlessly incorporates jazz, Northern African music, and Afro-Cuban rhythms, resulting in a danceable and hypnotic trip through the city's melting pot.