Cerca:no smoke

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

In einer Welt, die von zwei Monden umkreist wird, tanzen die Mondphasen im Gleichklang und beeinflussen die Gezeiten. Unter diesen Lichtamuletten liegt die Landschaft, in der SAINTSENECAs neues Album ,Highwallow & Supermoon Songs" entstanden ist. Zac Little wirkt an der Oberfläche subtil, aber die Kunstfertigkeit in jeder seiner Phrasen ist fast überwältigend. HIGHWALLLOW & SUPERMOON SONGS findet seine Stimme in ihrer elastischsten Form, reitet auf den Hügeln seiner Heimat, schwirrt vorbei wie eine Libelle und legt sich dann ruhig wie ein alter Hofhund.

A collaboration forged in the heart of the American Midwest, In The Earth Again unites Oklahoma City"s noise rock institution Chat Pile with Texas/Oklahoma"s visionary guitarist and composer Hayden Pedigo. What began as a casual split release idea spiraled into thirty-six-minute album that threads their contrasting sensibilities into something entirely new. Pedigo"s panoramic, primitive guitar, meets Chat Pile"s industrial decay, creating a record that explores unknown emotional registers and atmospheric depth for both, In The Earth Again sounds like a post-apocalyptic transmission from rural nowhere. Instead of making concessions, the five artists work as a single unit, and each decision is made in support of the greater vision. The result is both intimate and expansive, a tribute to the modern wasteland. Cover art by Malcom Byers.

A collaboration forged in the heart of the American Midwest, In The Earth Again unites Oklahoma City"s noise rock institution Chat Pile with Texas/Oklahoma"s visionary guitarist and composer Hayden Pedigo. What began as a casual split release idea spiraled into a thirty-six-minute album that threads their contrasting sensibilities into something entirely new. Pedigo"s panoramic, primitive guitar, meets Chat Pile"s industrial decay, creating a record that explores unknown emotional registers and atmospheric depth for both, In The Earth Again sounds like a post-apocalyptic transmission from rural nowhere. Instead of making concessions, the five artists work as a single unit, and each decision is made in support of the greater vision. The result is both intimate and expansive, a tribute to the modern wasteland. Cover art by Malcom Byers.

Deep black, with ghostly glimmers of an old car melting into the tarmac: the cover of Never En-ding Rodeo sets the tone. This isn't just a late-night drive, but a controlled skid across the borders of Post-Rock, Noise and Psych. The engine roars, the ground shakes, the white lines blur. Six years after the release of Ain't That Mayhem, the Lyon-based band returns with a dense, smoke-veiled record. Never Ending Rodeo: a deceptively playful, almost cartoonish title for such an intense album. As if, after circling endlessly around dust, bucking, and stampedes, Zëro had carved out its own orbit. Unstable, inevitably. But magnetic. Éric Aldéa (guitar, vocals), Franck Laurino (drums), Ivan Chiossone (Persephone, synths), and now Varou Jan (guitar, bass) - (Le Peuple de l'Herbe, Condense) - have lost none of their bite. Better still: this new album marks a turning point in production quality, thanks in particular to the mixing work of Niko Matagrin. The sound is broader, more inhabited. Every snare crack, every synth layer sits precisely in a meticulously sculpted space. "As if Tom Waits had collided with Nine Inch Nails. Before a frightening modernity hurled this so-nic convoy into a headlong rush." ~ Indiepoprock "You don't simply pass through Never Ending Rodeo: you step inside, you lock yourself in, drawn irresistibly by its magnetism." ~ Solénopole

We're thrilled to announce the release of "The Mackenzie - Classics EP 2", the long-awaited follow-up to the popular EP 1 everyone was excited about. This limited edition pressing comes on stunning smoked black-colored vinyl, with only 500 copies available worldwide. Housed in a deluxe threefold sleeve, this release is a true collector's item.

The Mackenzie name is legendary in the Belgian trance scene, and this EP brings together some of their most sought-after classics and overlooked masterpieces. Each track has been carefully remastered for 2025, breathing new life into these timeless anthems. This EP 2 is spanning over more than 2 decades of hit releases, amongst of them are "Falling In Love", "Walk Away", "All I Need" and "You Got To Get Up".

Expect rich melodies, mesmerizing builds, enchanting vocals, and that unmistakable 90s spirit that made "The Mackenzie" iconic in trance. This is not just the successor of EP 1 – it's the final chapter in a tribute to the golden era of Belgian quality trance music.

LIMITED 500 ONLY (WORLDWIDE) FIRST PRESS ON CRYSTAL CLEAR VINYL WITH GREEN SMOKE SWIRLS. HOUSED IN GLOSS FINISHED FULL COLOUR SLEEVE WITH POLYLINED INNER BAG. NON-RETURNABLE.
Japanese psych rockers Hibushibire return with album number four ‘Flashback Stonehenge’ and a UK/European tour to coincide.
‘Flashback Stonehenge’ is the bands first studio album as a four piece, with live guest Kohei Katsuma now joining as a full time member on percussion/congas (an absolute must see live) alongside Changchang (Guitar/Vocal), Tetsuji Toyoda (Bass/Vocal) and Aoi Hama (Drums/Vocals).
Like the band's previous three albums, this one continues with the three shorter songs on side one, and one epic long song filling out side two mantra that has served them so well thus far.
Opening track ‘Snow Sniffing Matador’ is already a firm live favourite, with it’s heavy riffage and 70’s rock swagger. Things then cool down with a more laid back ‘In Heaven’, featuring Aoi Hama’s dreamlike vocal whispers, and a fuzzed out take on traditional English folk song ‘The Cuckoo’ with Changchang & Aoi trading verses.
Flip it over, and you have the epic title track, which sees the band take a slightly different approach recalling the likes of Steve Reich, Terry Riley, Faust, CAN, Eno etc over its extraordinary 22 minutes.
The band return for their fourth UK tour in October, and also play their first mainland European dates to coincide.

EMPIRE, the nation’s leading independent record label, recently teamed up with the NBA 2K video game to provide the soundtrack for Season 2 of its series in October 2024. The soundtrack was a natural pairing of the two iconic Bay Area based companies to push culture forward through music, sports, and gaming. The 2 LP Box set, which includes music from the likes of Larry June, Key Glock, Money Man, LUCKI, Asake & Central Cee, and more is housed in a premium box with glossy, hardwood floor print on the outside, and a basketball textured inner box will also include a mini-satin championship banner, a custom basketball keychain, and virtual currency for in-game purchases.


Custom outer box with high gloss print
Custom inner box with basketball texture and debossed print
1 Red Smoke Vinyl in jacket
1 Blue Smoke Vinyl in jacket
16.5” x 10.5” custom satin championship banner
Custom basketball keychain
35,000 Virtual Currency for in-game purchases
Featuring music from Larry June, Key Glock, Money Man, LUCKI, Asake & Central Cee, and more

Detroit heat meets deep vibes. Rick Wade, Gari Romalis, Vakula & Jacksonville bring 4 exclusives raw cuts for smokey basements and sunrise dancefloors. No hype—just timeless groove.

Having worked together on his 2024 album Colours & Light, Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne joins forces once again with Wendy Martinez, French singer and composer, and also part of renowned psych-girl group Gloria on a new collaborative EP. Landing on Mr Bongo, ‘Time Stands Still / Le temps s'arrête’ is a sonic exploration that shows a shared love of the progressive music emanating out of France in the ‘60s and ‘70s and the celebrated film soundtrack composers of the time. A more melodic and romantic excursion than Paul’s previous recordings, this EP marries his richly textured, cinematic psych rock with Martinez’s captivating vocal presence.

A body of work born during the period Paul was finishing up his last LP Colours & Light, he penned an album’s worth of instrumental library-style music and had the idea of having Wendy add vocals and lyrics to a selection of them. The instrumental record got scrapped, but thankfully ‘Time Stands Still’ grew out of it.

Paul was a fan of Wendy’s work as both a solo artist and in the band Gloria, and her inclusion on the Project Gemini tracks ‘Entre chien et loup’ & ‘Extra Nuit’ showed a clear synergy to their musical approaches and sounds. For ‘Time Stands Still’ he sent over instrumental tracks one by one, with Wendy taking time to find melodies and French poetry she was happy with and returning her ideas from her home just outside of Lyon.

Drawing inspiration from French soundtrack composers such as François de Roubaix, Frances Lai and Michel Colombier, as well as French female artists including Léonie and Laurence Vanay, these productions are a contemporary love letter to this sound, not a homage. Mixing psych, folk, chanson, and French new wave, it’s music that pulls you in deeper, with groove, grit and passion at its core.

'Je n'ai plus peur' kicks things off with a sultry energy. It’s a psych-funk production drenched in attitude, swagger, and edge, which nods to the left-field side of Serge Gainsbourg’s music. Elsewhere, 'Âme contre âme' feels like the opener from a forgotten new-wave film, managing to be at both beautiful yet sinister and longing. 'The Crawler' could be incidental music from the same film, with Wendy using her voice as an instrument layering the backing track as Paul's bass takes centre stage. The ghostly spoken word of 'Ce qui est intact' echoes a funky version of what the Théâtre du Chêne Noir d'Avignon may have recorded.

A transportive journey ‘Time Stands Still’ is nostalgic yet new in the same smoke-filled breath. Fuzzed-up guitars and driving basslines meld with folk-leaning organs and mellotron vibrations to give that eerie, otherworldly edge. All of which are seasoned by the sensuous, layered vocal tones of Wendy Martinez, alongside crisp drums from Tony Coote and considered percussive touches by Paul Elliot.

In syrupy slow pursuit of a strong 2023 debut, Yungwebster's somnolent sequel is bolstered by pitch-perfect production from Space Afrika and Nathan Melja, who vaporise the rapper's auto-tuned post-Future drawl with euphoric orchestral drones, brittle micro-trap beats and weightless pads.

Over a decade ago at this point, Future released 'Codeine Crazy', the decelerated finale of 'Monster', one of his best-loved mixtapes. The track neatly summarised themes the Atlanta rapper had been circling for years at that point, layering his slurred, lean-dizzy rhymes over producer TM88's rubbery, melancholy synths. "Take all my problems and drink out the bottle," he moaned robotically, using the track's minor key bounce to represent the crushing delirium that followed fame and its tasting menu of intoxicants. It's still Future's high water mark creatively, and its traces can be observed in a full spectrum of contemporary sounds, from 6LACK's downtrodden, self-aware R&B to Lil Uzi Vert's feverish trap. But it's Yungwebster who's taken the haze to its logical conclusion, reimagining the Magic City-sculpted bumps as hypnagogic Actavis- 'n Xanax-hued ambient music. You could argue it was bound to happen - the more you sip, the slower it gets - and plays as a cracked mirror to cloud rap's long-smoked hybrid of Southern psychedelia and post-OutKast eccentricity.

Webster's opiated POV is clearer than ever before on 'II'. Just peep the cracks in his voice on the Space Afrika-produced opener 'Skyfall' as he coughs and splutters over watery samples, booming subs and SA's patented collage of soundtrack-ready strings and sirens. Presented at regular speed and in chipmunked form, it sets the pace for an album that, like its predecessor, constantly fucks with the timeline, pitching the whole master into doubletime or slowing it down to a crawl to present a curved, inebriated narrative rather than a straight line. Even without the tempo switches, Webster singles out beats that accent his warbled rhymes that sound as if they'll fall apart at any moment. French DJ and producer Nathan Melja backs 'Disheveled' with Black Ark-styled oscillations and airlock'd echoes, filtering the bassline until it almost disappears entirely; with room to breathe, Webster's able to take the lead - you might not be able to pick out the words, not entirely at least, but you get the message.

In fact it's Webster's voice that's the revelation on 'II' - with a coherent mix from producer tnotsobad, the nuances and fluttering tonalities emerge more vividly than they have before. It makes the flip between the regular speed and fast on 'Txts Red on iMessage' a textural decision, the different pace shifting the warbled cadences so Webster's voice becomes far more important than the additional elements. And on the album's Space Afrika-produced eight-minute centerpiece 'Crochet / I Swear', Webster's mumbled bio-mechanical whines create a much-needed foil for the decelerated boom-clack and suspended save room ambience. We get to encounter a personality here, not just an aesthetic, so as the album moves into its twilit fourth side, the beatless, voice-led somniferousness of 'YA SA' and ululating 'Phone' come off like a descent into tranquillised sedation. Rap has rarely sounded so chimeric.

World of Echo unites with the confounding genius of TRii for a highly limited first time vinyl run of 2020's Music For Desert Reboot tape, first released as TRj on the TRjj Musik label and then again as a second cassette by Mascarpone earlier this year.

As with all the sounds produced within the TRjj/TRii /TRj/TRi universe, strange illusion is part of the process, and this is certainly music that befits such smoke and mirror nomenclature, a kind of gamelan Werkbund re-programmed via the isolationist sounds of DIY home electronics conceived for a film that might or might not actually exist. Consider this time-dilation rug-pulling that's well in touch with its own mythology, so much so that it's hard to think of any obvious contemporaries, but if you've ever enjoyed the minimalist murk of Civlistijavel, the private quarters confessionals of Thomas Bush's first LP or any one of Guy Gormley's projects, you'll not got too far wrong here. Is further clarification required? That perhaps misses the point, though there is a track that features around two-thirds in entitled 'First Time Realizing the Clock Was Absent' that might function as a form of instruction to the listener. Namely, where does the time go? Music For Desert Reboot might not provide the answer, but it certainly knows how to ask the question.

Nach vier erfolgreichen EPs veröffentlichen LOKI ihr Debut-Album Cyan. Mit facettenreichen Inspirationen von Phoebe Bridgers oder Big Thief über Bon Iver und James Blake bis hin zu 80er Ikonen wie Tears for Fears, lässt LOKI keine Langeweile aufkommen. Cyan ist ein Album, das die Reise selbst feiert. Es geht nicht um Ankommen, sondern um die kleinen Umwege: Die Musik entstand teilweise in den eigenen vier Wänden, mal zu Besuch bei Freunden oder beim Urlaub auf dem Land. Die Band erhielt Unterstützung vom Saxophonisten Malte Ahlborn, während Constantin "Coco" Kopp als Produzent mitgewirkt hat. Das Mastering wurde von Lars Kruse und Robin Schmidt übernommen. Cyan ist eine Ode an die musikalische Vielseitigkeit der achtköpfigen Band und das bisher größte Kapitel einer Reise, die noch lange nicht zu Ende ist.

Honour's debut album is a ligament stretching from Lagos to London and to New York, curling across the diaspora and brushing the darker hues of blues, hip-hop, free jazz, ambient, gospel with Christian mythology and Yoruba folklore. As cinematic as it is painterly, Alàáfíà is a meditation on themes of life, death and love that pulls inspiration from the unexpected poetic profundity of casual conversations, field recordings, literature, ephemera, or personal archives. The result is an impressionistic vision in Black and Blur that both exhausts and implicates language_substantiating a mythos proposed by Fred Moten that sublimates boundaries between everywhere and nowhere; history and the present; the individual and the universal. Alàáfíà delineates a gothic landscape cut by overdriven beats, swooping orchestral blasts, choral bursts and ear- splitting fuzz, where the fleshly and spiritual realms commune. Dedicated to Honour's late grandmother, the title track began to take form after their last embrace and remains steeped in her influence and spirit_a tape-saturated composition that starts in Lagos and ends in London's smoke-stained cityscape, the song's dream-like quality developed out of the artist's grief and PTSD coping with this loss. Beneath the stretched guitar drones and stuttering loops, their grandmother's shared faith bubbles to the surface. "When Angels Speak of Love," borrows its title from two works by Sun Ra and bell hooks, respectively. Sculpting echoes of praise music into disorienting spirals perforated with syrupy DJ Screw-inspired breaks and sharp splinters of melancholic guitar, "When Angels Speak of Love" engages a conceptual dialogue with the spirits of both late thinkers, folding them into Honour's pantheon of ancestral guides. The album's ninth track, "Giz Aard ($uckets)," is a dirge of regimented drums which anchor this somber melody as it whirls into a blizzard of heartache, uncertain if its consequence will be death or eternal joy. The album's sole lyrical offering, "Pistol Poem (Lead Belly)," begins with a darkly humorous bar, "He went thru hell and back/ came back/ 2 get the strap," that swells into a haunting allegory based on the life of Philip "Hot Sauce" Champion. A modern take on the Blues, Honour's lyrics reify the artist's status as a student of both literature and popular culture, crossbreeding the artist's clever wordplay with additional references to Richard Pryor, Robert Johnson, Kelly Rowland & Bryon Gysin. Setting core principles of hip-hop, R&B, jazz and gospel music to atemporal soundscapes and compositions, Honour crafts a record that marinates in its own knotty contradictions. The ghosts that sit on the artist's shoulders have never been more tangible than with this emotive debut.

Can you believe it? Devendra Banhart's Cripple Crow - originally released by XL in 2005 - is turning 20 years old. This was the 5th album from the Venezuelan American artist who is considered the pioneer of the "Freak Folk" and "New Weird America" movements. To celebrate - Devendra has compiled a reissue of the out of print release that features a 3rd Bonus LP (on Clear Green Smoke Vinyl) featuring 9 bonus tracks, including 1 B-Side, 5 previously unreleased demos, 2 previously unreleased live tracks, and 1 unearthed smash hit from the recording sessions. This release is the first on his newly created Heavy Flowers label. The album received a "Best New Music" 8.4 review from Pitchfork upon its release. The release date will fall 1 day prior to the actual 20th Anniversary, which will be the first time Devendra is early for anything. Now THAT is something to celebrate! Limited to 2000 units on 3xLP with Bonus LP on Clear Green Smoke Vinyl. 36 tracks of music and 1 track of .... well... you decide! "Cripple Crow is undoubtedly impressive, vastly singular but entirely accessible, and an inspired listening experience where Banhart again proves himself as one of the more talented and charismatic forces in modern music." - Pitchfork

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

Selector Dub Narcotic hat uns beim letzten Mal gewarnt: "The Party Is Just Getting Started". Das ist OK, wir wollten nie, dass sie endet. 9 Jahre später beehrt Selector Dub Narcotic uns wieder einmal mit ihrer Präsenz und präsentiert "When Boys Cry" KLP309, eine vier Songs umfassende EP von unvergleichlicher Pracht. "When Boys Cry" ist eine echte Schnulze, die vier Taschentücher eingebracht hat - eins für die Beats, eins für die Reime, eins für die dunkle Schokoladenfrisur und eins für ich weiß nicht was, aber es bringt alle zum Tanzen. Wieder einmal arbeitet Selector Dub Narcotic mit dem Northwest Hip-Hop Produzenten Smoke M2D6 zusammen. Der Titelsong "When Boys Cry" schwebt in einem melancholischen Dunst; "Love Don't Come Around" sinniert über die Muse und alle unbeabsichtigten Konsequenzen; "Excuse Moi" ist eine freche kleine Nummer; "California Trippin'" erinnert uns daran, dass in jedem unserer Unternehmungen Freude steckt. "When Boys Cry" wird von drei digitalen Vorab-Singles begleitet, bevor es als 45rpm 12" EP in den Plattenläden des Planeten erscheint. Perfekt für die nächste gesellige Veranstaltung oder das antisoziale Grübelfest.

Gastr del Sol"s second album returns at last to the vinyl format - its first physical manifestation in well over a decade. Once again, a drop of the needle may ignite any number of queries, summed simply in one: What IS this music? Such is the potent energy of Crookt, Crackt, or Fly, retaining its otherworldly qualities some 32 years and countless musical movements since. Crookt, Crackt, or Fly expands upon The Serpentine Similar"s minimalist stance in unexpected ways, imposing further austerity in the soundscape but for an unpredictable expansive quantity periodically overflowing, waves of blood sluicing through the elevator doors. This is partially due to a change within the group dynamic: the departure of bassist Ken "Bundy" Brown and the arrival of a new partner for guitarist and singer David Grubbs - guitarist and sound fuckerer Jim O"Rourke. O"Rourke"s initial work with Gastr involved editing and recomposing recordings of the Grubbs-Brown-&-sometimes-John-McEntire lineup, producing an utterly outré collage of cut-ups and other types of tape processing. This became the "20 Songs Less" single, after which he was invited to play with the group. It was a time of flux; Brown recalls playing a Gastr show at the Metro around this time featuring himself, John McEntire, Grubbs and O"Rourke - and one of the pieces played was a Tortoise song! Throughout these shifts, Gastr del Sol"s music was never less than fully considered and composed, even in moments redolent with the suggestion of the random and the non-sequitur. Grubbs and O"Rourke made no attempt to replicate Serpentine"s arrangement of thick, scaly drones and hypnotic song-visions in their own partnership, finding Crookt, Crackt,"s sound instead in spiny, gamelan-like interactions between their (mostly acoustic) guitars, played precisely in and out of formation with bright, fleet-fingered abandon. O"Rourke"s fondness for field recordings and his capacity for tape manipulation intersected with Grubbs" sensibilities, edifying his evolving song style: written with increased sharpness and sly surreal humor, sung closer to silence. Halfway into "Work from Smoke", the sudden collapse of the sound-walls around us signals Crookt, Crackt"s major departure. From the thicket of guitars, a swell of drones and free-jazz squeals, made up of bass clarinet, vibraphone and organ, pulls the listener into an entirely other acoustic space. "Every Five Miles" derails in similarly tactile fashion: a guitar duet boils up thunderously, then fragments and spirals apart. As a free electric guitar part crops up, improbably holding the center, the acoustic space around it continues to disintegrate in ambient stereo. A wedding of folk music idioms to classical, improvised and modern compositional modes (including Gastr"s own formative post-punk mode), Crookt, Crackt, or Fly is a song-based reality steadily giving way to its alternative alchemies playing out within.

Ian Moore, Johnny Moeller, and Jesse Dayton-three of Texas' fiercest fretmen-join forces at last as Texas Headhunters, a band born from deep roots, old friendships, and a shared reverence for the raw, swaggering spirit of Texas blues. Their self-titled debut isn't a nostalgia trip. It's a declaration.

Cut over five days at Willie Nelson's Pedernales Studio, 'Texas Headhunters' deals 12 tracks of grit, groove, and gut-level truth. No smoke, no mirrors-just seasoned musicians in a room, plugged in and turned up. The chemistry is real. The result is mind blowing. Clifford Antone looms large in the story of Texas Headhunters-the spiritual godfather of the project, and the man who first recognized the fire in each of its members. All three-Johnny, Jesse, and Ian-were among the last generation of young guns taken under his wing.

Texas Headhunters isn't just a summit of three badasses with guitars. It's a reclamation. A statement. A reminder that Texas blues, in all its grit and glory, still matters. It's not retro-it's revival. And it's not a tribute-it's a shot across the bow.

Format: Standard Jacket with printed sleeve with lyrics. Pressed on Opaque Red Vinyl.