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Scorpion Child wields a sound that hearkens back to when guitar rock ruled the airwaves and going to concerts was the ultimate main event. The Austin, TX quintet released its self-titled debut in 2013 via Nuclear Blast Records. The album landed at #26 on the Billboard Heatseekers Chart and #99 on the Billboard Hard Music Albums chart. Following its premiere by Eddie Trunk, iTunes named "Polygon Of Eyes" its "Single of the Week," and Scorpion Child earned a nomination for "Best New Band" at the Classic Rock Magazine presented "Classic Rock Awards." The group's second album, 2016's 'Acid Roulette' was recorded with GRAMMYr Award-nominated producer Chris "Frenchie" Smith Meat Puppets, _And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead and featured the fan-favourite tracks "Reaper's Danse", and "My Woman in Black". The band's new album, 'I Saw The End as it Passed Right Through Me', is set for release on February 14 '25. Austin, Texas band, Scorpion Child, plays dark rock and roll that blends haunting themes and atmospheric melodies; the group's unique fusion of post-punk, hard rock, and brooding aesthetic has garnered it a dedicated fanbase. On the heels of a multi-year reinvigoration, the unit returns in 2024, galvanized with a fortified lineup and renewed dedication. The first taste of what the strengthened Scorpion Child delivers lies in wait with the new single, "Outliers", a powerful punch of a song, filled with introspective lyrics, that perfectly encapsulates the band's distinct style. "Outliers" was recorded at Austin's Point West Recording with Charles Godfrey (Black Angels, The Mountain Goats) and represents the first official new music from Scorpion Child since the 2016 release of its full-length LP, 'Acid Roulette' (Nuclear Blast Records). "Outliers" will appear on Scorpion Child's impending new album, 'I Saw The End as it Passed Right Through Me', slated for an early 2025 release date via Noize In The Attic. With the drop of "Outliers" comes the track's accompanying music video; stream Scorpion Child's "Outliers" now at this location. "Outliers" deep dives into the organizational use of fear tactics and the related, unknown forces that we are supposed to run from, or conform to," offers Scorpion Child vocalist Aryn Jonathan Black. "The song is a look into the thought that "they" are always watching us and that we should play the same game from our POV in the shadows." The vinyl LP is milky clear.

Spacey Jane are an Australian indie rock band formed in Fremantle in 2016. Following a year-long hiatus from live performances, Spacey Jane announced in January 2025 that their third studio album, If That Makes Sense, would be released in May. It was announced alongside the release of lead single "All the Noise". If That Makes Sense explores the difficulty and uncertainty that arises when articulating any feeling across the full spectrum of human emotion. Having total knowledge that nobody is able to truly comprehend the complexities that life has presented to you, but still trying to get the words out anyway. If That Makes Sense is an emotional flip book through time, a set of flashbacks and vignettes, an attempt to rearrange the disorder into something ordered. Where you are today is the result of all these fragments and experiences. -Caleb Harper

Neon Pink Vinyl. For their tenth LP in a career spanning more than two decades, Tulsa's Unwed Sailor deliver their heaviest riffs, loudest squalls, and most deeply textured arrangements yet. Cruel Entertainment is a catalogue of contrasts - dissonance and harmony, hardcore crunch and post-rock grandeur, complexity and catchiness - that adds a vibrant new dimension to the second phase of their discography, spanning thus far from 2019's landmark Heavy Age up to the "vivid, starry-eyed psychedelia" (AllMusic) of 2024's Underwater Over There. Opener and lead single, "Rock Candy", roars in with a gale of feedback, pounding drums, and nimble bass, until a latticework of howling guitars ushers us into a more goth-tinged space. It's a characteristically intricate, energetic composition that flows with remarkable ease between its parts, and wastes not a moment of its three minutes. "Monster Collecting" brings a rare combination of melancholic and driving energy, reminiscent of avowed heroes New Order, but ups the ante with a tight, fastpaced rhythm section and litany of guitar lines, until opening up into a cascade of reverberating textures and tenuous sweetness. According to Ford, the title Cruel Entertainment refers to "the hardships of being an artist and musician in the crowded, imbalanced world of social media and streaming," where the completion of a new work demands that the creator also be a promoter, content strategist, and agent, among many other intensifying challenges. Pointedly drawing inspiration from noisier, rowdier bands - including Fugazi, Quicksand, and Cherubs - here they seek a much-needed catharsis in the ongoing fight to keep the creative soul intact. Second side standout, "Monty Donahue", typifies this form of release, as massive, mid-tempo percussion leads a fluid low end theme - inspired by the dual bass assault of Dianogah - and Swatzell's chords burst into shimmering nebulas across a labyrinthine arrangement that's equally loud and beautiful. Title track, "Cruel Entertainment", is a mosaic of sound for which Ford's bass provides the mortar: taut drums list between the channels, washes of guitar stretch to the horizon, and metallic heaviness punctuates the drift. There is a confident immensity here, proving that, although Unwed Sailor have witnessed a wild amount of changes in the music industry, their knack for creating complex, vital, and masterfully produced work remains untouched.

Emerging from the Minneapolis underground and heading straight towards the sky, IE arrive on Quindi with a full-length album of sparkling, sophisticated wonder. Touching on kosmische grandeur, Riley-esque cyclical patterns, lounge pop and dubbed out psychedelia, the five-piece allow their songs to unfurl with a natural, hypnotic elegance which can take many different forms.
There's a loose, live quality to the recordings IE's members commit to record, which reflects their steady presence gigging in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Since putting out their first release in 2016, they've glided from drone and synth-led jam band ambience (2018's Pome) to strung out, stoner-tinted slowcore (on 2023's outstanding Junk Body). For Reverse Earth they strike a smoky note that wraps itself around your skull across extended run times that evolve with a meditative poise.
From the deceptively driving 4/4 thrum of the opening title track through 'Divination Bag's snaking tryptamine mantras on to 'Simplify's slow and smouldering indie-soul, IE's sound is bathed in a sumptuous warm glow that rounds out the lows and the mids, creating a nocturnal shroud in which their nebulous song structures can feel deliciously endless.
Meredith Gill's drums provide rolling and tumbling undercurrents for the slowly shifting phases of the instrumental players, as Michael Gallope and Travis Workman trade keyboard parts and Workman and Sam Molstad chop and pick at their six-strings. Atop the thrum of her bass, Mariel Oliviera's vocal adapts to the scenery, from a distant, dreamlike siren song on 'Reverse Earth' to a spoken word meditation on 'Babel'.
There's space in each track for every instrument to cut through and have its moment, from a spiralling key vamp to a chicken-scratch guitar flex. The gently twisting, head-feeding groove exercises of the first four tracks give way to a slow and powerful march on 'Dark Rome', closing the record on a noirish anti-ballad fit to peal out in the closing slot at Twin Peaks' Roadhouse (circa season three).
As much as the tracks teem with composition, musicianship, and production to savor, a sound like IE's has a soporific quality that soaks in unconsciously. It's an evocative portal where the band feel as if they could just play on each piece ad infinitum - where the time itself seems to dislodge from its moorings.

Growing up is painful, brutal, and sometimes beautiful _ something Brooklyn-based indie-rock band Bedridden knows all too well. The band's name is even a nod to that ineffable period between childhood and the jagged edges of the real world. "When I was 21, I kind of lost my home," says frontman/guitarist Jack Riley. "I was couch-surfing. I was having a hard time.The next iteration in the band's maturation, then, is their debut, LP Moths Strapped To Eachother's Backs, 10 fuzzed-out (and sometimes gnarly) ruminations on dating, drugs, and survival out April 11 on Julia's War. The title came from a mysterious missive Riley received on astrology app Co-Star. "Last year I was way too reliant on other people _ my partner at the time, my friends," he says. "I was strapped to them in a weird way _ and flying in circles. This album is about that time."The current incarnation of Bedridden encompasses a patchwork of styles, influences, and friends Riley accumulated over the years. A Chicago native who first started making music at age five on a thrift-store guitar emblazoned with Kurt Cobain's name, Riley moved to New Orleans for college where he dabbled in punk before falling in love with shoegaze. There, he launched the first version of Bedridden. Sebastian Duzian (bass) _ a jazz musician and Pasadena native _ linked up with Riley in NOLA along with his bandmate, drummer Nick Pedroza. Pedroza, from Claremont, grew up on rock, metal, and jazz, honing his style after joining the band. Wesley Wolffe _ a guitarist fed on a steady diet of New Wave and `90s alt _ rounded out the crew just a few months back. Bedridden's previous lineup released their first EP, Amateur Heartthrob, in 2023 _ a noise-washed blend of shoegaze, DIY, and indie that Riley says is a "coming-of-age EP _ these formative stories about not having a bed, dating, being kind of a jackass. I was making fun of myself a lot." That release caught the attention of Douglas Dulgarian from Philly Label Julia's War (and TAGABOW), who signed them for Moths."Some of these songs have been around for years," says Riley, adding that they were recorded last February at Studio G Brooklyn; the album was produced by Aron Kobayashi Ritch (Momma). "As opposed to Amateur Heartthrob, we attempted to blend more clean guitars into a driving sound to capture more clarity _ one that also sounds live_ and raw," Riley says. That rawness thrums through the record, which kicks off with the thrashed "Gummy," about an incident when Riley had to gently fend off a co-worker's unwanted advances while both drunk and high on an MDMA gummy. And then there's mournful rager "Etch," which sees Riley daydreaming about beating up a meddler in his personal life _ in the minor key.The annihilating "Chainsaw" revs in next, a lightning-fast Lemonheads-inspired track that recalls Riley moving in with new roommates who were unnaturally obsessed with purchasing a lamp. "For some reason that pissed me off," he laughs; that rage is evident in the album cover, which shows said power tool demolishing a lampshade. Heavy-shredding "Heaven's Leg" showcases the band's affinity for `90s mainstays like Smashing Pumpkins while telling the tale of a gig at a local church. "The lyrics are about a pastor I had met that had lost his leg," Riley says. "The church had signs about not cussing and I had a feeling that neither of us had anything to talk about without potentially offending the other."The band's not afraid to get confrontational, though, on the anger-fueled, drum-heavy "Philadelphia, Get Me Through," which deals with a dead-end relationship and the mistaken assumption that getting drunk in the titular city would be a balm against the pain. And the nasty, brutist, and short hardcore-adjacent "MainStage"? "It's about being disrespected at a show on New Year's and how I lashed out," Riley says. "I then began to take it out on other people, which was a quality that I despise."Things get contemplative and mournful from here on out _ the emo-edged "Snare" is about bringing flowers to a hospital room where you're not welcome, while the Smiths-inspired "Uno" wrestles with self-loathing. "I guess the big finale of that song was my response to dealing with this recurring experience of feeling like I wasn't good enough by getting really into whippets," Riley says. Nu-metal bop "Bonehead," then, recalls an embarrassing dinner that turned into an argument _ the name applies both to that incident and the delicious simplicity of the guitar parts.After all that turmoil and pain, the band caps everything off with their eyes to the future on the jangle-pop "Ring Size." "All my friends are getting married _ do I follow in their footsteps? Or is it all a waste of time?" Riley says of the song. "At the end, through it all, I guess that's what I've been trying to figure out _ how to grow up, how to move on. I'm trying to navigate things as an adult and I'm not very good at it. But this is just the first record. This is just the beginning."And, hey, at least now he has a bed.

FABRICLIVE’s new incarnation as an artist-focussed label continues, with a stunning two-track 12” by the Hong Kong-born, Netherlands-based rising star Kiana Li, aka gyrofield.

Rooted in drum & bass but distinctly the sound of now, this single sparkles with freshness, and stands-out with an exquisite verve for detail and craft. Balmy and comforting, atmospheric and melodic, the cloudsurfing breakbeats and celestial propulsion of ‘Akin’ is pure friendly pressure, whilst on ‘Mother’ big vocals, low-end precision and techno swathes soar even higher.

“'Akin' and 'Mother' remind me of my earliest days writing dance music. These are two free-spirited, transportive pieces that feel like spreading my wings and letting the air take me. Brought skyward in the hand of fate, nurturing yet weathered by my very own ideals. We all wish for better days. And toil to heal.” gyrofield

gyrofield has released music on prominent labels including Critical, Overview and Noisia's Vision. Last year she released the album A Faint Glow of Bravery on Metalheadz, and the EP These Heavens for XL’s prestigious house bag series, which has previously showcased music by Blawan, Joy Orbison and Overmono.

gyrofield is a regular on NTS and an in-demand DJ, whilst radio/club support has come from Mary Anne Hobbs, Objekt, Special Request and DJ Flight. Press fans include Rolling Stone, Crack, The Quietus, The Fader, DJ Mag and Resident Advisor.

“Scintillating - a sonic portrait of heaven that takes drum & bass and imbues it with the divine” Resident Advisor

“An artist whose journey and sound are quite unlike those of anyone else” The FADER

“Her vivid productions are a breath of fresh air in the scene” DJ Mag

“Merging the atmospheric and experimental with the melodic and emotional” Crack

“Packed with shapeshifting sounds that examine the universe and beauty of nature. Fusing atmospheric and spaced-out sounds with danceable sonics” Dummy

"She will never sit comfortably in any one genre or play to expectations or rely on any standard production formulae” UKF

Back with a bang for 2025, FABRICLIVE re-enters the fabric Records fold, which also incorporates Houndstooth and fabric Originals.

The Scream, Siouxsie & the Banshees' first album, was released late enough in the punk era to bear some claim as the first post-punk album, with only a minor traces of 'punk' (one lingering early song, "Carcass" comes to mind) and enough hints of what had come even earlier, Andy MacKay-like saxophone flourishes - to feel utterly new. Not to mention the effort producer Steve Lillywhite must have put into the album, his first fully-credited major label production. Siouxsie was clearly the focus of the band, with her unique vocal style and lyrics, but the real star, we've always known, was John McKay, who wrote most of the album's music (as well as singles like "Hong Kong Garden"), creating a wholly new guitar sound - harsh and brittle, yet melodically intoxicating . . . best articulated by a somewhat confounded Steve Albini years later ". . . only now people are trying to copy it, and even now nobody understands how that guitar player got all that pointless noise to stick together as songs". McKay's influence lives on; many of the most influential guitarists of the past four decades credit him as a major influence - Geordie from Killing Joke, Jim Reid of The Jesus And Mary Chain, U2's The Edge, Thurston Moore, Johnny Marr and even the two guitarists - The Cure's Robert Smith and Magazine's John McGeoch - who followed him in The Banshees. McKay's burgeoning status as the anti-guitar hero was halted when he and Banshees drummer Kenny Morris - at odds with Siouxsie and bassist Steve Severin - fled the band just after the start of a tour supporting the group's second album, Join Hands. It was a weekly music paper scandal, later the subject of a BBC documentary, and Siouxsie's vitriol working its way into the lyrics of a later Banshees b-side, "Drop Dead / Celebration". Aside from a solitary single on Marc Riley's In Tape label nearly a decade later, no music was heard from McKay again. So it comes as a major surprise to learn of a pile of excellent recordings made in the years just after he left The Banshees, unheard by all but a very few, some of which feature drummer Kenny Morris, plus Mick Allen from Rema Rema, Matthew Seligman of the Soft Boys and longer-term collaborator Graham Dowdall and John's wife Linda . . . the latter three of whom now all sadly deceased. Sixes And Sevens is an historic lost album. Brazenly genius and bearing fair claim as the lost treasure of the post-punk era, the album collects eleven studio tracks, carefully mastered from original tapes. It's a masterpiece which best speaks for itself.

'Trá Pháidín are an Irish nine piece collective from Conamara, Galway, a wild coastal region of West Ireland where Gaeilge remains the first language. The group are currently lighting up Ireland's underground with their joyful noise, a unique and unpredictable blend of traditional Irish folk, post-rock, jazz, and Dadaist absurdity. The glorious album An 424 takes us on a psychogeographical journey along the 424 bus route which follows this remote stretch of coastline, introducing us to the landscapes and the characters who depend on the buses. Expect wild improvisational flights filled with brass, woodwinds, harp and fiddles alongside relentless grooves.

Here's what the band themselves have to say about the album:

Psychogeography is a funny aul term......the effect geography and landscape of a certain area has on the psychology, identity and nature of the local people...........I suppose

Notoriously, Conamara is famous place for psychogeoraphy due to the work of the great Tom Robinson. He walked every coastline in every area contemplating the geography, culture, history, Gaelic language, English language and folklore of the area while he was drawing it's best map with great depth and detail.

Right, so I've given context, a few buzzwords and some interesting names, now it's time for the absurd stuff....

"Bóthar Chois Fharraige" (the R336 and whatever anglicized name they call it) is well known by everyone in the South Conamara Gaeltacht (Gaeltacht is an area where Irish/Gaeilge is the dominant language, there aren't many because we were colonized by the British and our government doesn't care about its own language). The people of Conamara travel this road almost every day by car, by bike, on Peadar Óg's buses or of course, through the medium of the 424 (the bus service provided by Bus Éireann, Ireland's public-private bus company). From Bearna to Carna (maybe sometimes a detour in Casla going as far back as an Cheathrú Rua and/or Leitir Mealláin)

Every passenger is well versed of gorgeous views of the landscape that is on offer on this journey. Included are Cuan na Gaillimhe/Galway Bay, An Bhoirinn/the Burren, na hOileáin Árann/the Arann Islands,Aillte an Mhothair/the Cliffs of Moher, Portach Mhaigh Cuilinn/the bogs of Maigh Cuilinn, Bóthar Loch an Iolra/Eagle lake road, Cuan Casla/Casla Harbour, Cuan an Fhir Mhóir/Greatman's Bay, Cnoc Mordáin/Mordáin hill, Sléibhte Mhám Toirc/the Maamturk Mountains and Na Beanna Beola/the twelve pins. Passengers would also be well used the unique character of the bus. Depending on the day, you will get a unique perspective of the "complicated identity" of the Gaels as the bus travels from the Gaeltacht into anglophone Ireland, or maybe going the other way.

This is a topic you could write a PhD about (and maybe someone already has). But, if you are someone who grew up or lives in this region, you have a particular understanding at this stage of how complicated Gaelic psyche is and the kind of spectrum of identity along bóthar Choise Fharraige. With the landscape in mind, this bus journey is a great meditation of the various topics of life.

‘Bhfuil tionchar ag an mbus ar nádúr na ndaoine?
Nó an bhfuil tionchar ag na daoine ar nádúr an bhus?'

'Does the bus effect the nature of the people?
Or do the people affect the nature of the bus?'

Le gach dea-ghuí,
TP.

(translated from Gaeilge by Peadar-Tom Mercier)'

The Scream, Siouxsie & the Banshees' first album, was released late enough in the punk era to bear some claim as the first post-punk album, with only a minor traces of 'punk' (one lingering early song, "Carcass" comes to mind) and enough hints of what had come even earlier, Andy MacKay-like saxophone flourishes - to feel utterly new. Not to mention the effort producer Steve Lillywhite must have put into the album, his first fully-credited major label production.
Siouxsie was clearly the focus of the band, with her unique vocal style and lyrics, but the real star, we've always known, was John McKay, who wrote most of the album's music (as well as singles like "Hong Kong Garden"), creating a wholly new guitar sound - harsh and brittle, yet melodically intoxicating . . . best articulated by a somewhat confounded Steve Albini years later ". . . only now people are trying to copy it, and even now nobody understands how that guitar player got all that pointless noise to stick together as songs". McKay's influence lives on; many of the most influential guitarists of the past four decades credit him as a major influence - Geordie from Killing Joke, Jim Reid of The Jesus And Mary Chain, U2's The Edge, Thurston Moore, Johnny Marr and even the two guitarists - The Cure's Robert Smith and Magazine's John McGeoch - who followed him in The Banshees.
McKay's burgeoning status as the anti-guitar hero was halted when he and Banshees drummer Kenny Morris - at odds with Siouxsie and bassist Steve Severin - fled the band just after the start of a tour supporting the group's second album, Join Hands. It was a weekly music paper scandal, later the subject of a BBC documentary, and Siouxsie's vitriol working its way into the lyrics of a later Banshees b-side, "Drop Dead / Celebration". Aside from a solitary single on Marc Riley's In Tape label nearly a decade later, no music was heard from McKay again. So it comes as a major surprise to learn of a pile of excellent recordings made in the years just after he left The Banshees, unheard by all but a very few, some of which feature drummer Kenny Morris, plus Mick Allen from Rema Rema, Matthew Seligman of the Soft Boys and longer-term collaborator Graham Dowdall and John's wife Linda . . . the latter three of whom now all sadly deceased.
Sixes And Sevens is an historic lost album. Brazenly genius and bearing fair claim as the lost treasure of the post-punk era, the album collects eleven studio tracks, carefully mastered from original tapes. It's a masterpiece which best speaks for itself. John McKay will be made available for a limited number of interviews . . . and yes, there are surprises in store.

On ‘Animal’, Ash Fure appeals to “animal intelligence” by using sounds that are inherently physical and driven by perception, athleticism and interaction. Placing polycarbonate sheeting over an inverted subwoofer she built alongside her partner Xavi Aguirre and brother Adam, Fure isolates the physical impact of sound by focusing on psychoacoustic sub-bass pulses, semi-perceptible micro-rhythms and discomfiting white noise bursts, linking the process to her experiences in Berlin and Detroit’s techno dungeons where the sound has to adapt to the space it’s performed in. When she performed ‘Animal’ for the first time, Fure fabricated a “listening gym”, allowing the audience to interact in real-time by circuit training in response to the sound. The sweat is almost audible across the record, a run-on selection of rhythms, resonances and abstractions that sound like interlocking heartbeats on a series of treadmills. Her fascination with techno’s cavernous cathedrals is clear from the beginning, but Fure doesn’t worship at the altar: we’re hit with the feeling, not the aesthetic. The beats themselves, made from unstable vibrations and waterlogged, reverberating clicks, echo the brain’s unconscious reaction to repetition in a vast concrete box, the feeling you get when each percussive snag ricochets from every surface in the building. Coddling these whirring, criss-crossing polyrhythms with harsh, distorted low-end retches, Fure accurately recreates the energy and fatigue of the endless weekend sesh. We never once encounter techno in its expected shell, just its residue - the outline of humans figuring out their relationship with technology, architecture and each other. Fure’s use of dynamics is also deviously smart, marking out an overall rhythm that’s not tied to the strength of the sounds themselves, but just volume and physical impact. Often her most brutal sounds - ear-splitting squeals and overdriven mechanical whirrs - are reduced to an almost inaudible level, a bit like the bandy legged trip to the bathroom, or the escape to some dimly lit nook, the part of the night where you can still detect the sound on your skin without being battered by it. When the undulating rhythm returns in earnest, Fure masks acidic sequences in jet engine expulsions, still refusing to objectify anything that an AI model might be able to pick up on.

"So the bad news is, in a fit of pique, I asked Chat GPT (nicely) to compose a one-sheet for the new Shit and Shine double album, Mannheim HBF. The even worse news (yes, even worse than resorting to such tactics) is that the resulting biography is halfway passable and on some levels, superior to the sort of thing being published by what’s left of our weekly coupon-shoppers. But for fuck’s sake my friends, Craig Clouse did not get to where he is today today by settling for halfway passable and neither should you. That Shit and Shine’s discography is vast and dizzying is already well established; what’s not nearly as established are these recordings being specifically dizzying. I don’t know if there’s anyone else in modern music as skilled in waltzing around the periphery of so many disparate idioms ('noise', being one of the least prominent this time around) and somehow, against all odds, tying ‘em together in the most intricate of knots. And who doesn’t love knots? We all have our favorite ways to experience music that’s all-engulfing, but whether your preferred method is thru a stadium sized sound system or ear buds affixed as you’ve leapt off the tallest building in Bastrop, TX (the Jerry Fay Wilhelm Center for the Performing Arts, since you asked), not for the first time, Shit and Shine is entirely appropriate in either instance, possibly every instance. There are moments where I think this is a club record. The Friars Club, however. Far be it from me to provide guidelines for how and when you take in Mannheim HBF. 'No interruptions', 'no distractions' are merely suggestions on the label’s part, though we cannot be held responsible for what happens if you ignore ‘em. Thank you."

Opening DNO Records’ 2025, Clearlight returns to the label alongside new signee Sentient, bringing four creepy cuts of insectoid minimalism that reanimate the drum & bass exoskeleton.

On the A-side, ‘Mandibles’ aims to stun. Hurtling forth with hulking drums, this tunnelling rhythm is beset by swarms of glitchy percussion and synth zaps that’ll frazzle minds with their sheer chaotic energy.
‘Suboptimal’ reveals what’s lurking in the deep, as heavyweight bass and incessant kicks burrow through a murky soundscape of croaks and rattles, only to be sprayed by a chirping acid line that cuts through the mix with deadly precision.

Flip over and the Belgian-British pairing delivers two extended jams. The seven-minute ‘Psychodrifter’ is packed with an overdriven low-end that crackles and heaves like it's trying to talk with a mouthful of bees, while globular whoops and twinkling pads squirm and beckon like bioluminescent lures.
‘Kukulu’ is longer still, building and building and building in intensity. Waves of warning bells and skittering background noise, bongo flourishes and spurts of grinding bass come together with hive-mind-like cooperation to form an enrapturing epic.

Another example of visionary world-building from the DNO camp, the ‘Mandibles’ EP will wriggle down your earhole and have you itching for a dark basement full of bass bins.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

Function Records has been blessed by the bassline talents of IP, John and Fiona Cunningham, showcasing their impressive skills. I had the pleasure of meeting IP at an education and bass feedback session at Planet Wax.
Choosing the first four tracks for their debut EP was challenging because they have so many bangers!
1) Nowadays, many track names suggest a connection to Jungle or reggae/dub sound systems, but they often deliver squeaky noises when the track drops. That's not the case with "Foundation Ting"; it hits you with all the elements you'd expect from Jungle music and continues to evolve impressively throughout the arrangement.
2) "Look Around" has garnered significant attention because it's one of those warm tracks that always gets a rewind. The bassline tells a story, and the breakdown and second drop are genuinely next-level.
3) "One Step" is the first track I received from IP. It's a heavy, dubbed-out jungle tune that builds into a midsection reminiscent of Spirit.
4 "Can't' Know That" is 8 minutes 37 of dirt. What a journey!

Bacao Rhythm & Steel Band, das mysteriöse Steel-Pan-Outfit aus Hamburg, machte 2024 von sich reden, als der französische Film „Anatomy of a Fall“ einen Oscar für das beste Originaldrehbuch gewann. Bacaos Cover von 50 Cents „PIMP“ war prominent in dem Film vertreten und spielte eine so große Rolle in der Handlung, dass es zum Synonym für den Erfolg des Films wurde. Später sorgten sie dafür, dass bei der Oscar-Verleihung zum ersten Mal Steel Pans im Orchestergraben auftauchten, um die Melodie zu spielen, als die Regisseurin Justine Triet die Bühne betrat, um den Preis entgegenzunehmen. All dies brachte Bacao eine Menge neuer Fans und ließ die Streaming-Zahlen von „PIMP“ auf weit über 40 Millionen steigen. Der Song erschien erstmals 2008 auf dem eigenen Mocambo-Imprint von Bandleader Bjorn Wagner und wird oft mit dem Original-Sample verwechselt, aus dem 50 Cent seinen Hit gemacht hat. Abgesehen von den Auszeichnungen und internationalem Ruhm ist „PIMP“ buchstäblich nur die Spitze des Eisbergs von Bacao. Mit vier Alben und einem großen Stapel 7"-Singles, die zu Grundnahrungsmitteln für DJs auf der ganzen Welt geworden sind, sind sie, seit sie bei Big Crown unter Vertrag stehen, sehr produktiv gewesen. Trotz der ständigen Veröffentlichungen und des umfangreichen Katalogs hat jede Aufnahmesession mehr Früchte getragen, als auf ein Album passen, so dass mehr als nur eine Handvoll Songs im Tresor lagert. „Big Crown Vaults Vol. 4“ gibt den meisten dieser Stücke eine angemessene Pressung und Veröffentlichung. Das Album beginnt mit ihrer Coverversion des Bob James Klassikers „Nautilus“, ein „Must Have“ für alle Hip-Hop- und Breakbeat-Fans. Sie bleiben auf dem Gaspedal und geben dem Khruangbin-Klassiker „Maria También“ die BRSB-Behandlung mit ihren charakteristischen basslastigen Drums, die die Energie des Stücks in eine völlig neue Dimension bringen. Berühmt dafür, bei der Neuinterpretation von Material tief in den Kisten zu wühlen, nehmen sie sich als nächstes den von J Dilla produzierten Royce Da 5'9"' Track ‚Let's Grow‘ vor. Dann gibt es „PIMP (Version)“, ursprünglich die B-Seite der Erstpressung von „PIMP“, auf der sie ihrer Originalaufnahme eine ordentliche Dub-Behandlung mit Melodica und Bandecho verpassen. Sie erhöhen das Tempo und den Funk mit „Great To Be Here“ von den Jackson 5 und tauchen mit dem Billy-Jones-Tanzflächenbrenner „Lookout Baby (Here I Come)“ wieder tief in die Dunkelheit ein. Während ein Teil des Reizes eines neuen Bacao Rhythm & Steel Band-Albums darin besteht, herauszufinden, welche Coversongs sie aufnehmen werden, ist es ebenso faszinierend zu sehen, welche originellen Melodien sie ausgearbeitet haben. „BCR Vaults Vol. 4“ enthält zwar nur ein einziges Original, „Kaiso Noir“, aber es ist ein Up-Tempo-Kracher, der wie eine Mischung aus einem B-Boy-Break und einem James-Bond-Score klingt. Diese Sammlung von Songs umfasst den Zeitraum von 2008 bis 2023 und lässt eine Vielzahl von Genres von Hip-Hop über Jazz bis hin zu Soul und Pop durch die Bacao-Linse laufen. Die Band arbeitet bereits an ihrem 5. Studioalbum, und diese Zusammenstellung dürfte die perfekte Überbrückung für die Fans sein, bis es erscheint.

Nothing is lost on Cash Langdon. It’s something you can hear in the observational lyrics of his last record, 2022’s Sinister Feeling; but on its follow-up, Dogs, you can also hear it in the camaraderie he cultivates playing live with his band Meadow Dust, a sonic energy that gives off the heat of his native Birmingham. The trio’s fuzzy take on heavy country rock has a worn-in no-fussiness that recalls Neil Young & Crazy
Horse – nothing overthought, nothing understated. And like Young, Langdon’s voice is simultaneously earnest and world-weary – but there’s a sense of humor, too, and a resignation to keeping on (“Dogs,” “Magic Again”). Recorded at Portside Studios (the former location of the legendary Muscle Shoals Sound) in just two days, engineer Brad Timko (Dan Sartain, St. Paul and The Broken Bones) captured Langdon and Meadow Dust at their fiercest yet. The title track “Dogs” and side B heater “Dead Dogs” both take inspiration from the wild dogs Langdon encountered in his neighborhood at the time of writing the record, where he wondered about the sick twist of fate that renders one dog a pet and another a threat. Across songs, he examines how oppressive cycles overlap, intersecting the personal and the societal at all times. The heavy yet melodic “Lilac Whiskey Noise” is the heartbeat of the record, written following an active shooter event that Langdon witnessed at work in 2016. It’s an indictment – not of the perpetrator – but of the systems of power that enable such an act. It’s a microcosm for all of the themes on the album, too: the ongoing violence of simply being awake to the world around you, and the resolve to stay awake anyway.
On the crunchy album-closer “Nothing’s Good Anymore,” Langdon sings about overhearing someone say just that – and you can tell he’s tempted to agree. He’s going to find what kernel of beauty he can. Dogs is a sonic map for finding that beauty in just about anything.

Process of Elimination explores sickness as a teacher for anti-capitalist modes of being; a rewilding of the self. The product of an attempt to be indestructible, this sickness has an unknown diagnosis. The only route to determine the indeterminable is via a process of elimination. Eliminate the noise so it may quieten and make space for listening to what whispers underneath, allowing a return to the present moment. Slowness and queerness as technologies, questions as answers and mysticism as a path to healing when science alone does not suffice.

London-based multidisciplinary artist El Hardwick’s sophomore album follows their experience of becoming chronically ill after years of treating their body like a machine. El explains: “After failing to receive a diagnosis, which is only given via a lengthy process of elimination, I instead turned to autonomous modes of healing rooted in mysticism and herbalism; putting aside the need to be defined. My journey towards accepting my disability is told in parallel to my coming-out as trans. I also see my non-binary identity as a process of elimination: I am neither gender, both, in-between. It is through rewilding myself from capitalism and gender normativity that I learn how to connect to my body and the earth; no longer allowing either’s energy to be extracted from. The less I sought answers, language, metrics and analysis, the more peace I found.”

Orchid Mantis, by Michelle Helene Mackenzie and Stefan Maier, is a work that draws its inspiration from the history of the Sanzhi Pod City, in northern Taiwan. Sanzhi Pod City was built from 1978 onwards, made up of buildings constructed from assemblages of `pods' inspired by the futuro houses of Finnish architect Matti Suuronen. The project was abandoned in 1980, following a number of accidents during construction and persistent rumours that the site was haunted. However, this wasteland of a city has allowed insects to proliferate, in particular five species of orchid mantis. It is this strange environment, made up of utopian buildings, proliferating insects and vegetation reclaiming the site, that serves as the imaginary space for Michelle Helene Mackenzie and Stefan Maier's music, a music of carefully designed pace and progression, drawing, through resonance and stridulation, subtle sonic materials that guide and accompany us into multiple worlds with admirable ease and grace. Breach, by American composer Olivia Block, engages in a dialogue between field recordings and synthesised sounds, creating a vibrant plea for wild spaces that face an ever-growing threat to their survival from human activities. The work is based on recordings collected in the San Ignacio lagoon in the Mexican part of Southern California. This lagoon is known as a breeding ground for eastern Pacific grey whales. With the help of precise electronics, the music unfolds like a drift, depicting the subjective soundscape of whales caught up in the noise of the Anthropocene. The composer uses otoacoustic emissions in particular, representing the sound saturation caused by humans in the habitat of these large marine mammals. Going beyond a merely descriptive dimension, Olivia Block manages to transcend her subject to offer a fascinating musical form that engages the listener in a constantly renewed way.

»Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« is an introduction to the folk-pop world of Eddie Marcon. It follows in the footsteps of other collections of Japanese artists on Morr Music, such as yumbo, Andersens, and the »Minna Miteru« compilations. »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« draws together songs from Eddie Marcon’s twenty-two-year history, including fragile, yet rich in melody material, collected from a prodigious run of limited edition, self-released CD-Rs.

Eddie Marcon is the project of Eddie Corman and Jules Marcon, who met through their involvement in Japan’s underground music scene. Eddie was a member of noise-rock duo Coa, while both Eddie and Marcon were part of psych-rock collective LSD-March. Forming in 2001, Eddie Marcon’s sound is markedly different from these groups, though they do, at times, share a sense of psychedelic dislocation, through the gentle, limpid pace of their songs. But with Eddie Marcon, melody and gentleness is at the music’s core.

They’ve long marked out their own, unique territory within a worldwide community of psych-folk and folk-pop artists; sharing their music through a subterranean network of colleagues and friends, they count groups like The Pastels and The Notwist as their fans, and Eddie has collaborated with the likes of Shintaro Sakamoto, and Aki Tsuyuko (in Tondekebana, and with Marcon and Ippei Matsui in the quartet Wasurerogusa). Eddie Marcon have also recently worked with drummer Ikuro Takahashi, who’s played with groups such as Fushitsusha, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and Nagisa Ni Te.

Across the songs on »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, Eddie Marcon’s songs are performed by Eddie on guitar, organ and vocals, and Marcon on bass; they’re variously joined by Takahashi, Yojiro Tatekawa (drums), Tomoko Kageyama (vibraphone), Yasuhisa Mizutani (flute), Madoka Asakura (vocals), and Ztom Motoyama (pedal steel). The arrangements are pared back to best serve the core of each song, and the playing is gorgeous – fluent but not showy; capable of great intricacy, but aware that simplicity is key to direct communication.

Songs like »Mayonaka No Ongaku« stretch their limbs languidly, the music shivering with beauty as guitar and cymbal drift across Eddie’s poised vocal delivery. »Tora To Lion« began as an improvisation, but it’s become a firm favourite of the group’s fans: as Eddie says, »it has become a very important song for us, to the extent that it can be said to be our representative song.«

Perhaps the most moving thing about »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, though, is the way it captures the subtle yet significant moments of everydayness that ask for our attention. »Shoujo«, a song for a beloved cat who passed away, possesses rare emotional resonance. »At the end of the song,« Eddie remembers, »I wanted to have her throat rumbling endlessly.« When the song was cut, a television voice appeared behind the purring, saying ›thank you‹. »For us, it felt like words from Poco-chan, and tears came to our eyes.«

Their 1990 debut, the first time on vinyl since the 1992 Big Cat reissue. Remastered.

Limited edition in blue vinyl for RSD2025.

The New York noise band with two bassists who later signed to Interscope.
After their split in 1996, main man Tod A formed Firewater, who released seven albums.

Ziúr lines up with The Tapeworm for an exclusive cassette-only release featuring Kenichi Iwasa, exploring the electroacoustic realms.

Invited to perform solo at Tarek Atoui's performance series at Kunsthaus Bregenz in October 2024, Ziúr decided to write a new piece for the occasion. This composition, 'Turn Liquid Into Dust', was then performed within the framework of Tarek Atoui's 'Waters' Witness' exhibition as an 8-channel spacial audio piece, transmitting sounds through the installation's structure – metal bars, stones, compost piles… Composed in London in autumn 2024, its principal source of sonic material is recordings of Atoui's instruments which Ziúr had recorded in his studio in Paris during the summer of 2024. In addition, she invited the Japanese woodwind player and virtuoso Kenichi Iwasa to join on all pieces, his contribution providing a binding element, tying the pieces together.

Opener 'A Cold Drip' consists solely of Iwasa's spectral squalls. The tense noir drone of 'Long Call' features a string instrument built by Atoui. For the airy yet dense title track, Ziúr recorded an organ named The Reed Box, with Iwasa floating atop its smoggy soundbed. Closer 'Chips 'n' Crumbles' echos and reverberates with the rattles of household items Ziúr found around her home.

Driven by a relentless appetite for boundless experimentation, Ziúr has been subverting expectations since she was a teenager, corkscrewing through hardcore, metal and punk before veering towards electronic music's turbulent fringes. She produces just like she DJs, gathering a wide variety of ingredients and figuring out the most intriguing, unexpected ways to simmer them into a coherent narrative that helps listeners synchronize the conflicting messages that surround them. Genre isn't a fixed point for Ziúr, but a colour in a vast palette that stretches across history and borders, helping illustrate music that's powerfully subversive. Her The Tapeworm edition follows acclaimed recordings for Planet Mu, PAN, Objects Limited and Hakuna Kulala.

Kenichi Iwasa is a London-based improviser and multidisciplinary artist from Japan, also known for his legendary Krautrock Karaoke night as well as collaborations with visual artists and musicians such as Beatrice Dillon, Maxwell Sterling and Linder Sterling. He currently performs with Naima Karlsson under the name Exotic Sin.