quête:k sub

In one sense, it’s easy for artists—songwriters, specifically—to express their feelings in their work. After all, that’s what the lyrics are for! But it’s much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That’s precisely why Girl and Girl’s Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst’s widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime’s worth of woes—mental health, the human race’s planned obsolescence if you’ve been living on this cursed rock you know what we’re getting at—across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment.

An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother’s garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James’ Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. “It sounded really great,” James recalls. “We begged her to stay, and she said, ‘I’ll stay until you find another drummer.’ We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member.”

After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. “That added to the intensity of the album,” James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. “I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that’s what it’s about—being tense, tied up, and in your own head.”

Call A Doctor’s eleven songs—spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records—are literally plucked from James’ personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album’s recording. “I’ve struggled with mental health for a lot of my life,” he explains, “and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it.”

Far from the sound of collapsing under pressure, Call A Doctor finds James and Co. stepping up with their entire collective chest. This is a record that’s so out-and-out alive that you nearly feel like you’re in the same room with Girl and Girl as you listen to it; lead single “Hello” practically bursts through the speakers, amplified by Aunty Liss’ unbelievable stickhandling duties. “‘Hello’ is all about romanticizing your own misery. Letting those deep, dark, dirty thoughts take over. Understanding that even if you could pull yourself out, you wouldn’t because the constant stress and worry is far too familiar and comfortable.”

“Mother” pogos on a spiky groove that’s reminiscent of the geographically close New Zealanders who make up the legendary Flying Nun label, while “Oh Boy” draws from the Shins’ own jangly sound, injected with James’ wonderfully nervy vocals. Then there’s Call A Doctor’s sorta-centerpiece “Maple Jean and the Anthropocene,” a five-minute epic offering a new perspective on climate change and the notion of what it means, in a personal sense, to suffer: “I live in the bushland, and I was driving home one night and hit and killed a wallaby with my car,” James recalls while discussing the song’s lyrical inspiration. “My first thought was, ‘What is the universe trying to tell me?’ No remorse, no guilt, just total self-centeredness. Which was like, Woah, you fucking psychopath! This wallaby wasn’t put on this earth to send you a message. That’s what the song is about, our egocentric species - thinking you’re the main character and that everything that happens is somehow about you.”

“This record is about an individual who’s too far in their head, trying to get out,” James continues while discussing Call A Doctor’s overall outlook—specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it’s important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl’s music is. There’s a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

"I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law." With a credo adapted from science fiction author Octavia E. Butler, an album title from a collection of metaphysical poetry, and an expansion in consciousness brought on by personal crisis, guitarist and songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love on News of the Universe, the new full-length from California rock band La Luz. News of the Universe is a record born of calamity, a work of dark, beautiful psychedelia reflecting Cleveland's experience of having her world blown apart by a breast cancer diagnosis just two years after the birth of her son. It's also a portrait of a band in flux, marking the first appearance for drummer Audrey Johnson and the final ones from longtime members bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose contributions add a bittersweet edge to a record that is both elegy for an old world and cosmic road map to a strange new one. But is there any band in the world more suited to capturing the chaos of change in all its messy beauty than La Luz? Formed by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for their ability to balance bedlam and bliss, each new record another fine-tuning of the band's mix of swaggering riffs with angelic vocals borrowed from doo-wop and folk; a band so reliably great that it makes the huge step forward in confidence and sheer musicality that is News of the Universe all the more formidable. Cleveland, also a writer and painter, has developed into a truly original songwriter with her own canon of haunted psychedelia. Yet if Cleveland has spent years writing songs about ghosts, what lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death itself. "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth," says Cleveland. The powerful sense of openness that permeates News of the Universe is at least partially due to the fact that it is a record made entirely by women-from the performing, writing, and producing all the way through to the recording, engineering, and mastering. Working with producer Maryam Qudos (Spacemoth), the all-female environment allowed Cleveland to feel safe tapping into difficult places and expressing hard emotions women are socialized to suppress. Unashamedly vulnerable, unabashedly feminine, and undeniably triumphant, News of the Universe is another knockout record from a band so reliably great that it has perhaps led people to overlook how pioneering La Luz really are: women of color in indie music forging their own path by following their own artistic star into galaxies beyond current musical trends, always led by an earnest belief in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never is that more true than on News of the Universe, which might be La Luz's most brutal record to date but also their most blissful.

With Folksong Distortions, Pauwels and Van der Aa create a journey of lament through the soul of times gone by. Their radical renditions of works by Larry Polansky and Christopher Trapanido not distort the more upbeat rhythm and tradition of folk songs, but rather reveal and highlight the essence of hard lives, imposed choices - choices that were illusions in the first place - and the difficult times and conditions they have always depicted.

Christopher Trapani arranged two classics from the U.S. South, effects. The work, developed in collaboration with Tom Pauwels and Liesa Van der Aa, was originally made and featured on ICTUS' American Lament programme. The duo was given considerable room for improvisation and interpretation in the process. The first song, 'Wayfaring Stranger', is a well-known folk/gospel melody in A minor. The lyrics contrast an aimless journey through a harsh, hostile world, with the Christian promise of heaven as a 'home' and reunion with lost loved ones. The second song, 'Freight Train', was written by Elizabeth Cotten, a left-handed guitarist who held her guitar upside down, resulting in a very recognisable strumming style.

Sweet Betsy from Pike and Eskimo Lullaby are taken from Larry Polansky's 2005 'Songs and Toads', a five-section piece that computer-composed pieces. The work was originally written for guitar, more specifically for the national steel guitar, refretted in a specific intonation designed by Lou Harrison. Each piece explores a different guitar tuning. A significant intervention to the original work is made to accommodate Liesa Van der Aa's violin with effect pedals, opening to an epic re-reading of the work as conceived by the American composer Larry Polansky. What this set-up enables is a melancholy, slow-paced approach that quite radically opposes the more upbeat and joyful nature of the folk songs.

SIHR: sonic manifesto by a post-anything quartet feat. multi-instrumentalists from the Mediterranean inland Sea. New folklore for a devastated planet, including Frédéric D. Oberland (Oiseaux-Tempête), Grégory Dargent (H), Tony Elieh (Karkhana) & Wassim Halal (Polyphème).

After a few concerts/screenings improvised as a duo in Cairo and Beirut, as well as for the Rencontres d’Arles, the Lille photography center and the Belgian magazine Halogénure, Dargent and Oberland have teamed up with mavericks Elieh and Halal for a puzzling cross-border manifesto. The first sonic moves of this eclectic quartet, made in a bunker studio somewhere between Paris and Berlin, urgently took the form of a quest, that of a neo-folklore for troubled times, a music seeping with many kinds of atavism and experimenting in all directions. A fertile no-man’s-land where trance and contem- plation, jazz and electronica, acoustics and electricity would merge in a stimulating mystical magma.

From the possible emergence of a Babelian language to the shared desire to rediscover music as a ceremonial act, this encounter took place over three days of improvised sound bacchanalia, the phases of which were all recorded by Benoit Bel (Zombie Zombie, Thurston Moore Group, Oi- seaux-Tempête). A hallucinated and generous testimony, SIHR is a synergy of many different worlds and many different possibilities, the sonic vision of a present conjugated in a hybrid tense and exalted by too many tangos danced on the glowing ashes of our days.

Multi-instrumentalist & photographer, Frédéric D. Oberland has been leading the Oiseaux-Tempête collective for over ten years, lying somewhere between avant-rock and free jazz, repetitive music and electronics. Founding member of the bands FOUDRE! and Le Réveil des Tropiques, he’s also perfor- ming solo and composing soundtracks for cinema and installation art. Since 2018, Oberland co-cu- rates the NAHAL Recordings imprint alongside producer Mondkopf.

Electric guitarist, oud player, composer and photographer, Grégory Dargent cultivates his musical schizophrenia and identity through improvised music, trance music, jazz, hijacked maqam, repeti- tive music, pop, electro-acoustic installations and French chanson. From L’Hijâz’Car to Babx, from Berber singer Houria Aïchi to Rachid Taha, from Trio H to Sirventés enragés, from music for images to contemporary choreography, from the most acoustic of ouds to the most nuclear of guitars, he conducts, accompanies, composes, deciphers, questions, delves, makes mistakes, bounces back, ar- ranges, orchestrates and tirelessly shares his creative passions.

Tony Elieh is one of the pioneers of experimental music in Lebanon. A founding member of the first post-rock group of post-war Lebanon, The Scrambled Eggs, he has since developed his unique elec- tric bass skills in various groups and styles of music including collaborating with in groups such as Karkhana, Calamita and Wormholes Electric. Relocated in Berlin in recent years, he has performed a solo set of heavily processed bass generated sounds.

Is Wassim Halal only a darbuka player? Maybe !? But what about his music, compositions, ideas. You can find him with Polyphème playing and co-composing popular-contemporary music with Gamelan Puspawarna, or next to the french bagpiper Erwan Keravec, with the Bey.Ler.Bey trio (w/ Laurent Clouet & Florian Demonsant) working on an improvised-balkan-already-improvised-music, with per- formers and drawers Benjamin Efrati and Diego Verastegui, with Gregory Dargent and Anil Eraslan in H, creating a new pedal generating »Random taksim«, composing his own »Poème Symphonique pour 100 youyou« or composing pieces for ensembles.

2024 Repress

Mannequin Records is proud to present a full length by the Philly minimal-synth princess Void Vision.
Void Vision is a Philadelphia-based electronic project helmed by Shari Vari. It began around 2009 at a time when a wave of synth-revivalists were materializing, but the quality of the songwriting and intense vocals set the band apart from the pack. In a rare instance, Void Vision has managed to combine vintage dance elements with melodic structures, haunting melancholy, and lyrics that have a palpable soul. The songs themselves are dynamic, referencing a cross-section of the last 30 years of electronic music, while simultaneously retaining a uniqueness all their own.

The infamous Wierd Records weekly club night in New York, which showcased a variety of talented electronic and coldwave artists, served as an incubator for Void Vision in it's early stages. After a standout debut performance at the club, they immediately caught the attention of Blind Prophet Records, who consequently released their first 7" single, 'In 20 Years', which received excellent reviews.

Vari has continued performing and recording steadily over the last few years, releasing songs on compilations for various labels, including Rough Trade, and in 2012 the song 'Everything is Fine' was selected for Artforum magazine's 'Best of 2012' issue. In 2013, Void Vision toured the West Coast and later that year released a split 12" with Portland-based band, Vice Device. The first official full-length album, entitled 'Sub Rosa' is set to debut on Berlin-based Mannequin Records, followed by a European tour in 2015.

Shari Vari formed Void Vision in 2009 originally as a duo, during the explosion of the new minimal synth and cold wave scene in United States. Sharing the same scene of the Wierd Records associates like Led Er Est, Martial Canterel, Xeno & Oaklander, Automelodi, in 2010 VV released 'In Twenty Years' on Blind Prophet (Sean Ragon's Cult Of Youth record label), receiving also the attention of the Rough Trade dudes, who asked to put out a track for one of their synth wave compilations.
After other split vinyls, tapes and compilations, Mannequin approached Shari with the intention to continue what Wierd Records started, giving a proper shape to her beautiful and youthful dark electronic sound. The result is 10 hypnotic cold analog tracks dominated by the warm and fragile Shari's voice, some more 'pop orientated' some others belonging to the original 'cold wave' atmosphere.

"Sub Rosa" is an edition of 400 copies on 160 gram black vinyl and 100 copies on 160 gram white vinyl.

"All our dreamers lose to the light" - from "Angels Go Home" When the pandemic began, and the world shut down, so did the process of creating for Iron & Wine's Sam Beam. In its place was a domesticity that the singer hadn't felt in a long time, and although it was filled with many rewards, making music was not one of them. Reflecting on that time, Beam notes: "I feel blessed and grateful that I and most of my friends and family made it through the pandemic relatively unscathed compared to so many others, but it completely paralyzed the songwriter in me. The last thing I wanted to write about was COVID, and yet every moment I sat with my pen, it lingered around the edges and wouldn't leave. This lasted for over two years." The journey back began with a recording session in Memphis to record a handful of Lori McKenna tracks for the EP Lori with friend and producer Matt Ross-Spang. The cathartic experience reconnected Beam with his love for making music, and soon enough the paralysis had passed, and he was finishing lyrics and booking studio time for what would become Light Verse. Light Verse was recorded with engineer and mixer Dave Way at his studio Waystation high up in Laurel Canyon (with an additional session at Silent Zoo Studio with a 24-piece orchestra), with a host of talented musicians joining Beam: Tyler Chester, Sebastian Steinberg, David Garza, Griffin Goldsmith, Beth Goodfellow, Kyle Crane, and Paul Cartwright. And, Fiona Apple joined Beam on vocals for the duet "All In Good Time." Beam lyrically once again takes focus on a series of both fictional and personal insights, filled with desperate characters and wide-eyed optimists, offering promise and a dose of heartache, tears and laughter, life and love. Taking stock in the album's title, he jokes, "Light verse is a form of poetry about playful themes that often uses nonsense and wordplay, and it's my first official Iron & Wine comedy album!_. Just kidding_." While true this may be Iron & Wine's most playful record, Beam says the title mostly reflects the way the songs were born with joy after the heaviness and anxiety of the pandemic. Where recent records like Beast Epic or Weed Garden gave air to the disquiet of middle-aged frailty and brokenness, these songs trade that for the focus acceptance can bring. Moment by moment, they delight in being pointed or silly (or both) and attempt beauty over prettiness. Light Verse arrives April 26th, and it's Iron & Wine's seventh full-length overall and fifth for Sub Pop Records. Fashioned as an album that should be taken as a whole, it sounds lovingly handmade and self-assured as a secret handshake. Track by track, its equal parts elegy, kaleidoscope, truth, and dare.

You get older, you have a family, and you start to slow down-that's how things are supposed to go, right? Not for Montreal band Corridor, who have returned on their fourth album, Mimi, with a sound and style that's more widescreen and expansive than anything that's preceded it. The follow-up to 2019's Junior is a huge step forward for the band, as the members themselves have undergone the type of personal changes that accompany the passage of time; even as these eight songs reflect a newfound and contemplative maturity, however, Corridor are branching out more than ever with richly detailed music, resulting in a record that feels like a fresh break for a band that's already established themselves as forward-thinkers. Mimi immediately recalls the best of the best when it comes to indie rock-Deerhunter's silvery atmospherics immediately come to mind, as well as the spiky effervescence of classic post-punk-but despite these easy comparisons, Corridor remain impossible to pin down from song to song, which makes Mimi all the more thrilling as a listen. "The goal was to work differently, which is the goal we have every time we work on a new album-to build something in a new way," Robert explains. "This time, we took our time." And so in the summer of 2020, Corridor's members-Robert, vocalist/bassist Dominic Berthiaume, drummer Julien Bakvis, and multi-instrumentalist Samuel Gougoux-holed away in a cottage to engage in the sort of creative experimentation that would lead to Mimi's ultimate creation. Corridor tinkered with the songs' raw parts digitally and remotely over the next few years, with co-producer Joojoo Ashworth (Dummy, Automatic) lending their own specific talents in the theoretical booth. The process was a byproduct of not having access to their rehearsal space due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but also a result of the four-piece leaning harder into incorporating electronic textures than on previous records. "For a long time, we identified as a guitar-oriented band, and the goal of making this whole record was trying to get away from that," Berthiaume states. Berthiaume also describes Mimi as a record about "getting older" and "figuring out new parts of life"-but despite any claims of transitional growing pains from the band, Mimi is a record bursting with new energy and life, a vibrance that's owed in no small part to Gougoux joining the band full-time after pitching in on live performances in the past. "I come more from a background of electronic music, so it was nice to involve that with the band more," he explains, and Mimi contains a distinct rhythmic pulse reminiscent of classic era-post-punk's own melding of dance and rock textures. Over bright, chiming guitars and ascending synths, Robert addresses his looming mortality on "Mourir Demain": "I wrote it when my girlfriend and I were shopping for life insurance," he laughs. With our little daughter growing up, we also considered making our will. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, from now on I'm slowly starting to plan my death." Don't mistake this as music about dead ends, though, as Mimi embraces and champions unfettered creativity while paving a way for Corridor's own bright future. "We just focused on making a record that sounded the way we wanted," Gougoux exclaims while discussing the band's aims. "There were no limitations when it came to what was possible."

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

ORANGE VINYL

Daniel Boeckner understands the grit and gravel that accumulates in the heart and that it takes an unwavering courage to crack through that clutter and burrow to the other side. And in Boeckner's hands, that quest comes via post-apocalyptic synth and guitar heroism, a rallying cry for those always coming home through the scorched clouds. Throughout his work with Wolf Parade, Handsome Furs, Divine Fits, Operators, Atlas Strategic, and more, the iconic Canadian indie rocker recognizes that few feelings are more gratifying-more memorable, more generative, more abundant-than hope. But it takes getting the hell out of your own way. A culmination of that deep library of musical reference, Boeckner is set to release his first album under his own name: Boeckner! No matter where his genre exploration has taken him, there's something about growing up in punk and DIY spaces that puts collaboration in Boeckner's blood. Composed of a collection of intimately familiar elements, Boeckner! elicits the same thrill of young passion and discovery. It's a jet-powered chase through a tech-noir cityscape-fueled by a dream and that special someone in the passenger seat. That urgency and passion have always been a trademark of Boeckner's, and writing on his own pushes those feelings further into the center of the scope. But while Boeckner may be the clear driving force behind the album, he's not without collaborators for his solo debut. After meeting producer Randall Dunn while contributing to the soundtrack to the Nicolas Cage-starring psychedelic horror film Mandy, Boeckner knew he'd found the perfect counterpart for his solo debut. "I'd been a fan of his forever, especially the Sunn0))) records he produced," Boeckner says. "Working with Randall really unlocked some suppressed musical urges, things that I enjoy in my private life but don't normally weave into what I'm releasing-like occult synth, pseudo-metal, krautrock, and heavy psych influences." That base allows Boeckner to thoughtfully weave between emotional imagism and more grounded storytelling. Throughout the record, his imagery delves into science fiction, but it's charged first and foremost by experience. The trio of Boeckner, Dunn, and drummer Matt Chamberlain (Pearl Jam, David Bowie, Fiona Apple) formed a sort of dark engine for the album, and Chamberlain's ingenious approach of triggering a vintage Arp synthesizer simultaneously with each drum track helped Boeckner shape the record's atmosphere. That tense futurism was influenced by Boeckner's time staying in Dunn's Circular Ruin studio, a dusky, electronic aura burned into every track. By the end of the album, Boeckner! eases from sci-fi epic into something more akin to a torched VHS copy of a John Cassevetes film, the chemtrails and nuclear fallout fading long in the distance. Like all good sci-fi, the emotion and pain hits home for the author and listener alike, and the genre flourishes bolster the human experience. In revealing more than ever before, Boeckner! ratchets up the musical intensity to unforeseen levels and hopes to find some peace at the end of the journey.

Pissed Jeans has never been a band that goes halfway-they're known for their feral vocals, biting lyrics, buzzsaw guitars, and unhinged live shows, and their sixth album, Half-Divorced is no exception. These songs skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood, and when viewed through frontman Matt Korvette's scowl, everything takes on a level of violent absurdity. Pissed Jeans' notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer, from helicopter parents to stolen catalytic converters to being $62,000 in debt. On "Seatbelt Alarm Silencer," Korvette growls, "Call it a death drive but that ain't fair / Drive implies I'm headed somewhere." Korvette, Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) weren't in any rush to finish Half-Divorced, which was recorded by Don Godwin at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland. "We're not the kind of band that bangs out a new record every two years," Korvette said. "Pissed Jeans is truly like an art project for us, which is what makes it so fun." This lack of restraint rages within the songs that unexpectedly veer into classic hardcore punk territory-often coming in at under two minutes long and erupting like the "butane tank explosion" Korvette sings about in "Junktime." In the last song, "Moving On," Korvette sneers, "Cheesing into my camera phone / Pretending that I'm not alone / Life's the first thing that we all postpone." One gets the sense that Pissed Jeans refuses to "postpone" life in quite the same way-life, like art, is something that happens now, not later. - Chelsea Hodson

Pissed Jeans has never been a band that goes halfway-they're known for their feral vocals, biting lyrics, buzzsaw guitars, and unhinged live shows, and their sixth album, Half-Divorced is no exception. These songs skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood, and when viewed through frontman Matt Korvette's scowl, everything takes on a level of violent absurdity. Pissed Jeans' notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer, from helicopter parents to stolen catalytic converters to being $62,000 in debt. On "Seatbelt Alarm Silencer," Korvette growls, "Call it a death drive but that ain't fair / Drive implies I'm headed somewhere." Korvette, Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) weren't in any rush to finish Half-Divorced, which was recorded by Don Godwin at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland. "We're not the kind of band that bangs out a new record every two years," Korvette said. "Pissed Jeans is truly like an art project for us, which is what makes it so fun." This lack of restraint rages within the songs that unexpectedly veer into classic hardcore punk territory-often coming in at under two minutes long and erupting like the "butane tank explosion" Korvette sings about in "Junktime." In the last song, "Moving On," Korvette sneers, "Cheesing into my camera phone / Pretending that I'm not alone / Life's the first thing that we all postpone." One gets the sense that Pissed Jeans refuses to "postpone" life in quite the same way-life, like art, is something that happens now, not later. - Chelsea Hodson

RVDMNTL's first release, composed of energetic and functional cuts in which textures, the distortion of some elements and a sound synthesis coming from modulars and analog devices seek to push the tracks to the limit and provoke their disfigurement.

Previously protected under other artistic names and owner of the INCENSE label, the artist definitively adopts this pseudonym after some years exhibiting his sets in booths and in charge of productions that seek to shape the genre through his own conception. Now, he will go into a more personal, complex and focused on the dancefloor. Non-conformism, independence, originality and forcefulness remain a common element in the artistic figure and label he runs."

Mastered at Koschitzky Studio
Artwork by Malsombra

The music of Atlanta trio Omni has always swung fast and hit hard. And Souvenir, their fourth album and second for Sub Pop, packs their biggest punch yet. Inactive during the majority of the pandemic-the longest downtime in their history-they approached this recording with lots of pent-up energy. Guitarist Frankie Broyles, singer/bassist Philip Frobos, and drummer Chris Yonker converted their creative fuel into sharp, driving songs that land immediately, sporting chopping riffs, staccato beats, and wiry melodies. Why does Souvenir sound so sharp? Because each track is a compact unit that stands on its own, reflecting the time and place in which it was created. That's why Omni called the album Souvenir: it's a collection of audio objects, a stash of musical miniatures. Think of it as a family photo album, a binder of rare playing cards, a shoebox holding precious gems. Take "Plastic Pyramid," the first song Omni wrote after coming out of lockdown. Filled with twists and turns, it's a journey unto itself, charged by clanging chords, spinning rhythm, and Frobos trading lines with Izzy Glaudini of Automatic, with whom Omni toured with last fall. (Glaudini sings on two other Souvenir tracks, the first guest vocalist the band has collaborated with). Or take opener "Exacto," a slicing web of intertwined guitar and bass. Its razor-fine notes and syncopated beats perfectly match pointillist Frobos lyrics such as "Exacto, de facto, concise, quite right"-a line that could well be an Omni mantra. The precision and clarity of Souvenir comes from some new Omni developments. For one, this is their first album with Yonker as their full-time drummer, and his forceful playing adds exclamation points to every pointed moment on Souvenir. In addition, the trio worked with Atlanta-based engineer Kristofer Sampson for the first time. Sampson pushed the band to a higher degree of power, with Frobos's vocals more upfront in his pulsing mix and the rest of the music leaping out of the speakers. You might notice that Frobos' singing is a bit more emotional and even nostalgic this time around. In crafting his vocals, he was inspired by the early college radio rock of formative favorites like REM, the Cure, and Big Audio Dynamite-the kind of bands whose melodies could have been top 40 hits in an alternative universe. The lyrics on Souvenir are also by turns funny, absurd, and even cryptic. A wry humor has always coursed through Omni's songs, and this time, it comes in shades of both dark and light. In "Granite Kiss," an "astronomical" love story concludes with the hope that "we can decay together," while in "PG," a romantic walk in the park includes a rose-colored mugging. Immediacy rushes throughout every moment of Souvenir, making it the band's most powerful album to date. Omni has truly crafted a musical keepsake-a set of songs that you'll want to keep close, an aural memento you'll cherish for the rest of time.

These recordings of Gongs Orchestras were made during Funeral Ceremonies in two Kung villages and one Jaraï village in Ratanakiri province, Cambodia by Laurent Jeanneau (Kink Gong) in 2003 and 2004, at a times when jungle had not been replaced by rubber plantations. Focusing on funeral's ceremonies, those hypnotics pieces are intense and haunting harmonics sonic experiments.

"Adventure brought me to south-east Asia, not academic research. I was based on and off in Banlung, capital of Ratanakiri province between 2003 and 2006. Finding gongs orchestras became my obsession, I've witnessed different contexts in which gongs were being performed, but the most brainwashing ceremonies were the funerals, because they would never end, I remember leaving the 3 days funeral ceremony of a prominent Jaraï dead man in Tang ji village at the border with Vietnam and still hearing the gongs the entire next day going back home through the jungle". - Laurent Jeanneau (Kink Gong)

"Many of the ethnic minority groups, the Jarai, Kac_, Tampuan, Kavet, Kreung, Brao, Bunong, Mnong, Edé, and others, are hill-rice farmers who live in the uplands of the Annamite mountain chain. Collectively these groups have been known by many names, including a number of disparaging terms in local dialects, such as moï, kha, phnong, and others. The term Montagnard was applied to them by the French during the colonial period, and was used by the US military and in popular discourse in English during the United States-Vietnam War. In scholarly and popular literature during the mid-twentieth century these upland farmers were also called hill tribes. I have opted for the word highlanders as a relatively neutral term that avoids the semantic burdens associated with these other namings." - Jonathan Padwe, The book Disturbed forests fragmented memories.