Buscar:lizard snake

Lizard & Snake, the new collaborative project from Elia Nafzger and Axel Pineau, lands on Respect The Craft Enterprises with a classy collection of deep, rolling hypnotic house cuts. Tight grooves, crisp percussion and understated funk make for timeless dancefloor tools with plenty of character. A strong debut from the duo and another quality addition to the Respect The Craft Enterprises catalogue.

Love On Vinyl is headed up by K.C. aka K Civ, an American with deep roots in the scene and a legendary Boston selector who has now assembled the first instalment in a new Soul Tickler Essentials compilation series. It's drenched in love and soul and features a ton of timeless artists, starting with Ralf GUM's sunny, Omar-featuring 'Love Core.' Elsewhere, the musicality flows through subtle jazzy keys and Afro drums on Don Kamares's 'Batie' then Moodymann drops one of his deep and dusty soul grinders with a remix of Ralf GUM's 'With Her Hand'. Further gems from Trinidadian Deep and Aaron K Gray & Conway Kasey make this one a faultless selection of grown-up grooves.

Einstürzende Neubauten producer Boris Wilsdorf, Karl O’Connor aka Regis and MY DISCO's Liam Andrews assemble as EROS, bottling no-wave/industrial lightning with a tight set of pulverized, widescreen torched-songs that rasp, grate and throb somewhere between This Heat, The Cure, Cabaret Voltaire, Alva Noto x Pan Sonic.

An industrial fantasy of flesh and steel, ‘A Southern Code’ is the stunning continuation of the trio’s work at Wilsdorf’s pivotal Anderesbaustelle studio on Regis’ watershed album, ‘Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss’. Rejoined by another key muse, Anni Hogan, and Einstürzende Neubauten’s Jochen Arbeit, they effectively galvanised a new band, EROS, during long days and nights in the studio across 2020 and into 2021. The sound they make is fiercely lean, shaped by Wilsdorf’s manacled mixing and anchored in the frankly sexy as f#ck swerve of Regis vocals and his snake-hipped rhythm section.

The first songs issued from those sessions form a lustrous new high point of contemporary industrial and dance music, one porous to Kurdish dabke as much as archetypal goth, pulsing with a metallic bloodlust and spatialized by Wilsdorf’s genre-forming tekkerz in a way that seriously rewards with proper amplification. Judged on its immediate merits, it’s the sort of record that could have feasibly come out at any point between the ‘80s and now, but closer inspection reveals a discreet framework of sculpted subbass and sleekly rolling traction that betrays the modernity of minimalist D&B physics and up-to-the-second sound design that places ‘A Southern Code’ in a timeless echelon.

Registering the venomous drums and over-the-shoulder whispers of its title track, plus the incendiary middle eastern horns of ‘The Crawling Man’ - a real parallel dimension take on The Cure’s ‘The Top’ - to the post-apocalyptic lounge lizard styles of ‘In This Place’, and the unheimlich creep to ‘Nature Unborn (From Sun to Sun)’, the band’s first album plants a vital stake in the ground for industrial musick at the crest of a new decade.

THE MARCH VIOLETS came out of Leeds in the early 80"s, label-mates of Sisters of Mercy. Releasing six singles, they were a constant presence in the UK indie charts, hitting the top two spots with Snakedance, Deep and Walk Into The Sun. They never got around to recording an album - their only "80"s long-players, Natural History in the UK and Electric Shades in the USA, were compilations. Eventually they signed to a major label and were groomed for a USA breakthrough, performing in the 1987 Some Kind of Wonderful movie. However they were asked to make too many compromises and split up. Their early eighties career was thankfully well-documented by the BBC, who broadcast six sessions between 1982-86 - three for John Peel, and one each with Kid Jensen, Janice Long and Richard Skinner. Chronicling their development with lead singers Simon Denbigh, Rosie Garland and Cleo Murray and backed by bassist Lawrence Elliot and guitarist Tom Ashton, these sessions include nine unreleased songs and alternative versions of their indie hits. Here is the unheard history of The March Violets.

A focal point for the unique punk-funk that was coming together in Bristol as the bridge from the 70s to the 80s arrived, Maximum Joy was formed by Glaxo Babies multi-instrumentalist Tony Wrafter and 18 year old vocalist Janine Rainforth. Soon they drafted in additional Glaxo Babies in the form of drummer Charlie Llewellin and bassist Dan Catsis, along with guitarist John Waddington, fresh from The Pop Group. The group set about making a one-of-a-kind mix of funk, punk, pop, jazz, dub, soul, afrobeat and reggae; creating a brilliant burst of danceable tunes wrapped around elastic basslines and complex percussion, punctuated by melodic horns and stabs of guitar, all of it highlighting Rainforth’s naturally enthusiastic vocal style. They immediately took their place on the rosters of influential labels like Y and 99 with iconic debut single Stretch, as the band had clearly captured something special.

Entering 1982, Kevin Evans had replaced Catsis as Maximum Joy set out to make what would be their only full length LP. Recording at Berry Street and The Lodge with producers Adrian Sherwood (On-U-Sound legend), Dave Hunt (Flying Lizards, Pigbag, This Heat) and Pete Wooliscroft (Kate Bush, Talk Talk, Peter Gabriel, OMD, This Heat) the band would mix practiced grooves with imaginative improvisation. The results were absolutely jaw-dropping.

Station M.X.J.Y. kicks things off with Dancing On My Boomerangand promptly sets forth the blueprint for bands like !!! and The Rapture to capitalize on nearly twenty years later. In fact, those bands can only dream of the mix of driving percussion and spectral shards of guitar that Maximum Joy has clearly already mastered. Do It Todayannounces itself immediately with Rainforth delivering a looping and infectious vocal melody that the others dance around playfully, as handclaps keep the stomping groove intact, leaving a dancehall hit for outer space circling your turntable.

If you ever wondered what it would sound like if ESG and The Slits combined forces, Let It Take You There has the answer for you. Llewellin periodically delivers a cascade of marching band percussion while Waddington’s classic R&B riffs are transformed into a slithering snake trying to keep pace with Evans locked in groove as Rainforth’s singsong vocals are reduced to whispered echoes. They close out side one with the delicious slab of pop that is Searching For A Feeling. Clearly pronouncing the band’s intention to find the positives in a dire time for England, they look to rally those around them to focus on making real change in the face of opposing voices via one of Rainforth’s most delightful deliveries.

Side two sees Wrafter stretching out on Where’s Deke?, showcasing what had already been obvious, as he is the band’s secret weapon, often coloring each tune with his horns, sometimes in several styles just seconds apart. He underlines that feeling with the raucous and bouncy Temple Bomb Twist, before they hit a straight groove in Mouse An’ Me, like a dub infected Train In Vain. Well, if The Clash had ever allowed themselves to properly lose their minds on the dancefloor.

A funky afrobeat flute and guitar battle breaks out (way cooler than it sounds) before Rainforth rallies the troops to not only fill up the disco, but also the surrounding streets in political resistance to Thatcherism via All Wrapped Up. It is entirely genuine and their activism has none of the menace of the others in their scene, but rather a feeling of sharp optimism amongst this danceable masterpiece. It is that optimism that always set Maximum Joy apart, and makes their grooves all the more irresistible today.

Sadly, the upward trajectory of the band was cut short as Rainforth left the group, and soon afterwards seemed to stop making music altogether. The reasoning seemed destined to remain a mystery, until earlier this year when she gave a brave interview to The Guardian where she revealed that an assault by someone in the industry caused her to retreat entirely from music for nearly three decades. Luckily, Janine has embraced music once again, and she refuses to let the magic that was Station M.X.J.Y. be lost as well.