Search:noise up

In the spring of 2019, a new rock band consisting of four otherwise ordinary Okies would arise out of seemingly nowhere, swiftly turning heads with a grotesque new take on noise rock fuelled by the existential anguish that has defined the 21st Century. Taking its name from the towering mounds of toxic waste that stand as monuments to capitalism’s cruel hubris across its home state, Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile made an immediate impression, soon culminating in the release of its landmark 2022 debut album, God’s Country and 2024’s expansive follow up Cool World
While the massive success of God’s Country would propel the quartet from the status of underground favorites to an international sensation, Chat Pile’s mission to take rock music to new zeniths of intensity was part of the plan from the very start. In fact, during its first handful of months as an active project, Chat Pile began writing and recording some of the heaviest, hellish, and harrowing music of its entire catalogue, laying the foundation of the themes and traits that would eventually manifest in the band’s debut LP. The result of these sessions would be a pair of EPs, This Dungeon Earth and Remove Your Skin Please, released in the summer and winter of 2019, respectively.
Initially put out by Reptilian Records in 2020, The Flenser is proud to present a special reissue of Chat Pile’s pivotal first two EPs, each compiled onto a single disc. This dual EP compilation chronicles the earliest moments of the Oklahoma City quartet’s discography, a snapshot of the band’s pre-Flenser days and of the eight tracks of noxious, nihilistic noise rock that would propel the Midwest band to a globe-spanning, underground heavyweights.

In the spring of 2019, a new rock band consisting of four otherwise ordinary Okies would arise out of seemingly nowhere, swiftly turning heads with a grotesque new take on noise rock fuelled by the existential anguish that has defined the 21st Century. Taking its name from the towering mounds of toxic waste that stand as monuments to capitalism’s cruel hubris across its home state, Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile made an immediate impression, soon culminating in the release of its landmark 2022 debut album, God’s Country and 2024’s expansive follow up Cool World
While the massive success of God’s Country would propel the quartet from the status of underground favorites to an international sensation, Chat Pile’s mission to take rock music to new zeniths of intensity was part of the plan from the very start. In fact, during its first handful of months as an active project, Chat Pile began writing and recording some of the heaviest, hellish, and harrowing music of its entire catalogue, laying the foundation of the themes and traits that would eventually manifest in the band’s debut LP. The result of these sessions would be a pair of EPs, This Dungeon Earth and Remove Your Skin Please, released in the summer and winter of 2019, respectively.
Initially put out by Reptilian Records in 2020, The Flenser is proud to present a special reissue of Chat Pile’s pivotal first two EPs, each compiled onto a single disc. This dual EP compilation chronicles the earliest moments of the Oklahoma City quartet’s discography, a snapshot of the band’s pre-Flenser days and of the eight tracks of noxious, nihilistic noise rock that would propel the Midwest band to a globe-spanning, underground heavyweights.

In the spring of 2019, a new rock band consisting of four otherwise ordinary Okies would arise out of seemingly nowhere, swiftly turning heads with a grotesque new take on noise rock fuelled by the existential anguish that has defined the 21st Century. Taking its name from the towering mounds of toxic waste that stand as monuments to capitalism’s cruel hubris across its home state, Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile made an immediate impression, soon culminating in the release of its landmark 2022 debut album, God’s Country and 2024’s expansive follow up Cool World
While the massive success of God’s Country would propel the quartet from the status of underground favorites to an international sensation, Chat Pile’s mission to take rock music to new zeniths of intensity was part of the plan from the very start. In fact, during its first handful of months as an active project, Chat Pile began writing and recording some of the heaviest, hellish, and harrowing music of its entire catalogue, laying the foundation of the themes and traits that would eventually manifest in the band’s debut LP. The result of these sessions would be a pair of EPs, This Dungeon Earth and Remove Your Skin Please, released in the summer and winter of 2019, respectively.
Initially put out by Reptilian Records in 2020, The Flenser is proud to present a special reissue of Chat Pile’s pivotal first two EPs, each compiled onto a single disc. This dual EP compilation chronicles the earliest moments of the Oklahoma City quartet’s discography, a snapshot of the band’s pre-Flenser days and of the eight tracks of noxious, nihilistic noise rock that would propel the Midwest band to a globe-spanning, underground heavyweights.

New R&B discoveries continue to emerge and entertain the many followers of the New Breed musical cult; nobody finds more than the Kent connoisseurs.
Berna Dean’s two previously unheard recordings are by far her best. They were laid down at Cosimo Matassa’s New Orleans’ studios by GNP Crescendo but eschewed in favour of two relatively average sides. The great 50s R&B songwriter Jesse Stone provides a rocker for the much-admired Jimmy Breedlove and a super-catchy ‘This Morning’ for an unknown mixed vocal group that has a joyous gospel feel. Jesse also penned ‘Private Eye’, a classic early 60s story-song, for Buddy Wilkins which was issued on Al Sears’ Tri-Ess imprint.
The title track is used twice, on two very different Fraternity recordings. Kenny Smith’s version was issued in 1964 and has many followers, but the equally meritorious Coasters-inspired composition by the Citations is newly discovered. Win Menifee’s ‘I’m Runnin’ Around’ from the same Cincinnati label comes complete with a fascinating back-story.
There are three cover versions. Vermettya Royster’s ‘All Around The World’ is backed by James Brown’s 1961 band, while Roosevelt Lee's 1970 update of the 1947-originated ‘Hey Little Girl’ funks the tune up a la Godfather of Soul. The cover that will make the biggest noise is undoubtedly west coast band the Afterglows’ version of Barbara Lynn’s evergreen dancer ‘I’m A Good Woman’ – this is a future monster.
Golden Crest provides two fabulous male vocal group sides – the swinging ‘What’s On Your Mind’ by Eddie Daye’s Four Bars and the delightful harmonies of the appropriately-named, but unknown Delights ‘Mary Don’t You Weep’.
Blues still thrived into the 70s as Albert Washington’s mean and moody ‘Case Of The Blues’ proves. Smokey Wilson took the music into the late 70s with the storming ‘Goin’ Away Baby (Round Like An Apple)’, which benefits here from a 45-style edit. His Pioneer Club on 88th Street in South Central L A provides the atmospheric photo for this collection.
More early 60s movers come from Wilbur “Hi-Fi” White with ‘Don’t Look Now’, future hit songwriter Johnny Madara’s raucous ‘You Make Me Mad’ and Big Boy Groves ‘Bucket O’ Blood’ which brilliantly describes the kind of club these tracks would fit right into.
The LP version loses a few tracks, but so many collectors have strong preferences we’ve thrown the vinyl junkies a lifeline.

Named after a (US) West Coast grocery store chain, The Whitefronts started out in 1982 as a quartet of art and theater students attending UCSB. The band quickly mutated into a sextet. In 1984, they moved north to establish themselves as part of the SF DIY culture. Live shows usually consisted of open jams drawing from what the band was obsessing about at the time—free jazz, The Velvet Underground, Caribbean music, improv noise—as well as their own unheralded genres that popped in and out of existence like subatomic particles. Shows with local bands like Slovenly, Camper Van Beethoven, Caroliner Rainbow, Vomit Launch, Barnacle Choir and Barbara Manning provide some context as to their eccentric position within the indie scene of the era.

In 1985, the band released their sole LP, Roast Belief, on their own Bogden label. This was an ambitious attempt to document the various ideas that were happening live. Though practically unknown today, it’s an extraordinary record—a mid-80s classic serving up eclectic derangement on a par with contemporaries like the Butthole Surfers, Meat Puppets, Sun City Girls, Tuxedomoon and Eugene Chadbourne.
The Mamo Waves LP was compiled from recordings made between 1982-1987. As with Roast Belief LP, it’s a mind-melting jumble of the genres explored by Whitefronts throughout their existence. It was originally supposed to be released by Camper Van’s Pitch-A-Tent imprint, as a couple of WF members were touring with CBV in 1987, but the release fell through the cracks when CBV was airlifted to Virgin Records in 1988. Today, it’s clear that Mamo Waves belongs to the same 1980s Californian sub-underground aesthetic that nurtured mythical 80s bands like Departmentstore Santas and Prominent Disturbance. It’s a real WTF m.o. that still sounds like the future.

d A4 I Before E Except After C; Voice [Extra Chit-chat] – Eric's Mum; Written-By – Clarke*

[f] A6 In My Room; Noises, Producer [Additional Production] – Daniel Miller; Voice [Extra Chit-chat] – D. Davis (2); Written-By – Clarke*




[d] A4 I Before E Except After C; Voice [Extra Chit-chat] – Eric's Mum; Written-By – Clarke*

[f] A6 In My Room; Noises, Producer [Additional Production] – Daniel Miller; Voice [Extra Chit-chat] – D. Davis (2); Written-By – Clarke*

Dummy is a rock band from Los Angeles comprised of Alex Ewell, Emma Maatman, Nathan O'Dell, and Joe Trainor. Their debut full-length "Mandatory Enjoyment" (Trouble in Mind) arrived in late 2021, becoming one of the year 's sleeper hits and garnering praise from Pitchfork, Stereogum, and more. Coming out of lockdown, the band spent two years touring in support of the record, and it is this transformational experience that pulses through "Free Energy ", the exhilarating follow-up to "Mandatory Enjoyment". A creatively restless band, Dummy (Ewell: drums, synths, bass; Maatman: vocals, synths, organ; O'Dell: vocals, guitar, organ; Trainor: guitar, bass, synths) wanted to get harder, dancier, more psychedelic for their next record. This meant applying explorative potentials of electronic textures to the elemental qualities of rock i.e. more vocal loops, sampling, more crazy rhythms, and playful synths - but make those samples of Trainor 's guitar, let Maatman sing bolder, experiment with using cold mechanical elements in warm and sparkly ways, and lean harder into traditional-yet-still-awesome forms of rock guitar experimentation like feedbackThe result is a record that celebrates music's ability to move the body, whether that be through a teeth-rattling wall of MBV-esque noise, a sticky pop chorus, or a joyous drum machine_or, if you're Dummy, maybe all of them in the same song. Pop music has always been a big part of Dummy's sound and it manifests in different ways all over Free Energy: the bubbly synth sequence made with a Korg EM1 popping all over "Nullspace," the revved-up drone-pop inspired by second and third wave Dunedin Sound bands like Look Blue Go Purple and Dadamah, and the motorik beat powering "Nine Clean Nails," perhaps the most confidently pop song Dummy has ever recorded and one that exemplifies "Free Energy "'s balancing of live performance intensity with electronic augmentations, the dancier rhythmic elements created out of a drum loop recorded by Ewell while the bridge recalls the Feelies with call-and-response guitars from O'Dell and expressive vocals from Maatman. "Free Energy " also features guest appearances from Oakland-based saxophonist and electroacoustic artist Cole Pulice (Moon Glyph) contributes saxophone and wind synths and Jen Powers of Powers / Rolin Duo (Astral Editions, Feeding Tube Records).

Limited edition white vinyl (800 copies) The self-styled ritualistic electro-mechanical ensemble OSMIUM is a veritable supergroup. Made up of Oscar-winning composer and instrumentalist Hildur Gudnadóttir, veteran engineer and producer James Ginzburg, Senyawa's idiosyncratic vocalist Rully Shabara and Grammy-winning sound designer / producer Sam Slater, while each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Alloying burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with dense, metallic drones, barbed rhythms and buckled, bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM's eagerly awaited debut album doesn't try to cast a rigid future. Rather, it tempers a viscous flow of unorthodox speculations that smolders through the distant past, blazing a trail all the way to the frontier of fate. Absorbed by questions about the relationship between humans and technology, tradition and progression, the individual and the group, OSMIUM channel their experience and expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations that skewer established cultural preconceptions. And although genre is acknowledged - the album draws from folk, doom metal, 20th century minimalism, industrial music and extreme noise - there's never a sense that it's riveted firmly in place. Widely known for her soundtrack work (including `Joker' and `Chernobyl') Gudnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Ulfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops. Taking his cues from this process, Slater (who has worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ben Frost and others) generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he designed with KOMA Elektronik and Subtext boss and Emptyset member Ginzburg responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single- stringed resonator. OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and Shabara's alien tones supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. Never weighed down by needless sound design or modish ornamentation, it's music that feels authentically experimental; OSMIUM have figured out an awkward symmetry between their discrete approaches, concentrating their gaze on the outcome rather than the process. The result is a work of science fiction that's driven by interaction, conversation and sensation.

At ATP, the band previewed instrumental and early versions of songs from the then soon-to-be recorded NYC Ghosts & Flowers album, and this exclusive performance was the premiere of “J’Accuse Ted Hughes.” The B-side is a soundtrack-style piece recorded at the band’s Murray Street Studio in 2003 for a never-realized collaboration with French clothing designer Agnes B. The 18-minute-long song was recorded by a five-piece version of the band—the four members of Sonic Youth plus Jim O’Rourke, who also mixed “Agnes B Musique.” This LP will be soon followed by a CD-only release of the band’s Another Side of Sonic Youth Roskilde Festival performance, where the five-piece Sonic Youth line-up was joined by saxophonist/reed player Mats Gustaffson and electronic noise legend Merzbow for an hour of improvised music.

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

Carrying on from recent archival releases from masters of Indian classical tradition such as Kamalesh Maitra and the Dagar Brothers, Black Truffle is pleased to present a previously unheard recording of a concert by Pakistani vocalist Salamat Ali Khan. Born to a musician family in Hoshiarpur in the northwestern state of Punjab, Khan moved with his family to Lahore in Pakistan after the 1947 partition of India, becoming a child musical prodigy. Khan was a master of the kyhal form of Hindustani classical vocal music, a style integrating influences from Middle Eastern musical traditions that gives the singer a great deal of improvisational freedom. Travelling widely across the globe from the 1960s until his death in 2001, Khan approached ragas performed in the kyhal style as expressive forums for risk-taking improvisation, enlivened by ceaseless ornamental invention.

This remarkable recording was captured by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) in concert at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974 (which also featured Nico, Tangerine Dream, and Roberto Laneri’s Prima Materia, among many others). Khan, who is also heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither), is joined by Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. The lack of a familiar underlying tanpura drone gives this performance a weightless, floating quality, with all three of the musicians playing masterfully with the interaction between silence and the pulse propelling each section of the raag.

As Khan explains in his opening remarks, this performance of the rainy season Raag Megh is divided into three parts, each with its own tempo and rhythmic scheme (tala). The opening vilambit, in a twelve-beat tala, stretches out for over twenty minutes, lingering for a long time in a space of meditative calm, Khan lightly strumming the zither while exploring the lower end of his range in languorously extended notes. Virtuoso tabla interjections at first barely state the tempo, and the interplay between musicians is so spacious that we hear scraps of audience noise and the squeak of the harmonium’s mechanism in between the notes. Gradually picking up rhythmic definition and melodic complexity, after around fifteen minutes the music builds dramatically, with Khan letting out emotive yelps and swooping scalar shapes ranging across his full vocal range. This flows seamlessly into the following jhaptal, at a faster tempo in ten beats, which then makes way for the concluding teental, very fast in sixteen beats, which becomes a frantic improvisational exchange of daring rhythmic disruptions from the tabla, flowing harmonium melodies, and a stunning variety of vocal approaches from Khan, ranging from rapid-fire staccato consonants to guttural growls.

Accompanied by stunning black and white concert photographs, the LP also contains a moving and entertaining recollection from acclaimed German musicologist Peter Pannke, looking back on his experience assisting Khan and his musicians in Berlin at the Metamusik festival (including a mouth-watering description of a feast cooked by the maestro himself). As Pannke describes in his account of attending the concert, the beauty and spiritual intensity of this music leaves the listener speechless.

I must admit to being a sucker for two-guitar bands. Ok, Hendrix pulled off a trio. But I don’t care what anybody says: The Yardbirds were a better band than anything that came out of them (Ok, maybe not Zep. But Cream?).

Maybe the reason I go back so far in my references is that, within the two-guitar band format, original new roles are difficult and rare. There’s the classic (socially problematic and often boring) “rhythm/lead” solution. There’s the JB’s or Nile Rodgers’ chicken pickin’ vs comping solution (which avoids chordal clashes by relegating one of the guitars to the role of single-note percussion instrument). There’s Ornette’s Prime Time division between Bern Nix’s rolled-off “jazz” tone and Charles Ellerbee’s trebly wah. Almost everything else is a variation on one of these.


In Ches Smith’s record Clone Row, each piece is built around a different concept for guitar interaction. The delightful and gifted weirdness of Mary Halvorson’s playing is counterpointed, contrasted, unisoned with, played off, juxtaposed (that is to say, enters every relationship possible) with Liberty Ellman’s equally amazing sound palette, chops, and imagination. This definitely ain’t your father’s guitar band.
The overall vibe of the record—despite Halvorson’s occasional noise outbursts or Ellman’s distorted guitar lines (see Mixed Fridge) is neither punk/funk, nor Zorn-ish metal—and certainly not the looser parameters of Ornette’s improvised harmolodics. Smith’s vibraphone playing, Halvorson’s guitar tone (whammy pedal squiggles aside), the brilliant electronics, and (most of all) the compositions themselves are somehow strangely West Coast cool. It’s as if I’m hearing a Jim Hall concert in which one of us did a lot of mushrooms, or (dare I write this?) some post-punk post-Dave Brubeck post-trip-hop experiment with classical form.

This recording is, most of all, about Ches as composer. He’s picked up a lot on his long, strange trip of the last few decades. The Haitian funkiness of his work with We All Break is audible—but deeply buried, encoded in the polyrhythms (check out Heart Breakthrough). His long-running side musician collaborations with John Zorn and Tim Berne are also evident but sublimated here into something new.

Not that improvising is absent. Check out the compelling collective statements in Sustained Nightmare and Ready Beat. Check out the brilliant interplay and bass soloing on Abrade With Me (a Weather Report for the age of extreme weather?) Nick Dunston is my favorite bassist of the new generation, and he plays brilliantly throughout. And Ches’ drumming here has all the groove, energy, and incredible range that have kept him in demand from Saturday night Vodou services to jazz and new music recording sessions (…the thinking man’s rock barbarian?).
The sus chords in Abrade With Me do build, for a moment, towards a fusion type of climax...but just at the moment I was gritting my teeth in anticipated defense against some horrible synth solo, the drums drop out, and we’re transported to the ambient lounge at the rave, and we suddenly understand we’re in the hands of a composer with the power to transport us just about anywhere.
So, this is a composer’s record most of all; a composer’s record performed by musicians who happen to be great improvisers. Ches Smith builds here on his reputation as a gifted new voice with an important vision, while showcasing some of the most creative musicians of our time.

A timeless rock & roll band for the modern world, The Prescriptions sharpen their sound with Time Apart. Produced by Ben Tanner (Alabama Shakes) and Brendan Benson (The Raconteurs), the album funnels a half-century of American and British influences including taut power pop, explorative indie rock, jangling heartland hooks, and New Wave nuances into something sharp and singular. The result is a warm, widescreen follow-up to The Prescriptions' 2019 debut, Hollywood Gold, its songs balanced halfway between classic craftsmanship and progressive exploration. Fiery and forward-looking, Time Apart explores both sides of the pop/rock divide. It's a 21st century album rooted in everything that made the classic stuff so compelling sharp songwriting, ringing refrains, percussive stomp, and guitars that chime one minute and churn the next. Time Apart is an album for the heart, head, and hips. The Prescriptions have been never been shy about nodding to the hook-driven rockers who came before them, but here, they carry those influences into uncharted territory, uncovering something that's truly theirs along the way. It was time together that created Time Apart, and The Prescriptions have never defined their ambition or abilities so clearly before. Tracklist: 1 April Blossoms 2 Long Past Tonight 3 Love is Red 4 I Get Lost 5 Compartmentalize 6 Fire Moon 7 On Satellite 8 Not The Issue 9 I Might Try 10 Baby Be Nice 11 Camp Hill

The Understated Debut That Launched a Peerless Career: Bob Dylan Is the Clearest Connection to the Singer-Songwriter's Folk Roots
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl for Reference Playback: Mobile Fidelity 33RPM SuperVinyl Mono LP Features the Direct Sound Dylan Intended

1/4" / 15 IPS analogue mono master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Bob Dylan's self-titled 1962 debut is as understated of an entrance as any significant musician as ever made. Well-versed in American roots music, Dylan simultaneously pays homage to tradition and extends it by putting his own stamp on classic material that metaphorically functions as the soil of contemporary songs and styles. Free of ego, and performed with masterful conviction, Bob Dylan ranks with the initial efforts of giants like Elvis Presley and the Rolling Stones.

Nodding to Woody Guthrie and re-imagining Blind Lemon Jefferson's "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean," Dylan straddles the past and future. He authoritatively displays the ability to handle weighty topics such as death, sorrow, and lamentation with the vaudeville flair, bluesy mannerisms, and poignant command of an artist three times his then-20-year-old age.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM mono SuperVinyl LP brings the contents of this seminal release as close as they've ever come to live-in-the-studio quality. Transparent to the source, Dylan's voice, acoustic guitar, and harmonica come across with exceptional realism — the "husk and bark" to which Robert Shelton referred in his legendary New York Times review of a Dylan appearance at Gerde's Folk City — courtesy of the format’s nearly non-existent noise floor, groove definition, and quiet surfaces.

Heard in the original mono configuration, Dylan’s vocals are in the heart of the musical action and as one with the accompaniment. This reissue paints an incredibly accurate portrait of the concrete mass of sound that features no artificial panning and offers a straight-ahead immersion into the music producer John Hammond recorded in just two days in November 1961.

Though much has been made of the commercial indifference that greeted the album upon its low-key release, focusing on sales figures and the reaction of a public not yet hip to Dylan's name miss the forest for the trees. Distinguished from the era's other folk efforts by way of the singer-songwriter’s determination, brazenness, and lived-through-this worldliness, Bob Dylan lays the groundwork for the path he'd soon trailblaze and everyone else would follow.

As Dylan scholar and pop-culture critic Greil Marcus observed in 2010: "Everybody knew Joan Baez and the Kingston Trio; if you knew Bob Dylan, you knew something other people didn't, something that soon enough everybody had to know. Within a year, an album could put an adjective in front of the singer's name as if it were already common coin."

Mono is how almost everyone first heard Dylan’s opening salvo. A career like none other starts here.

MoFi SuperVinyl:

Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are virtually indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.

Federsen’s Alt Dub continues with its third release this May, the ‘Artist Series’ focused VA features cuts from cv313, Taction, Hidden Sequence and Fletcher.

Based out of San Francisco, Federsen and his Alt Dub imprint are known as purveyors of all things raw and intricate in the world of Dub Techno, holding the beacon and championing the sound, introducing new artists and featuring highly respected figures from the scene also. This new various artist package promotes exactly that.

Taking the lead is the widely revered cv313, the Detroit based dub powerhouse delivers his signature sound with ‘Spectral Vector’ via hazy field recordings, textural noise, modulating percussion and spiralling dub echoes all subtly nuanced throughout its nine minute duration. Sydney’s Taction then offers up ‘Caesious’, employing trickling water sounds, ethereal, expansive pads, pulsating subs and reduced percussion.

Opening the B-Side is Hidden Sequence’s ‘Azteca’, picking up the energy levels courtesy of swinging organic percussion, bubbling echoes, reverberated stab sequencing and oscillating resonant synth flutters. Fletcher’s ‘A Distant Place’ then rounds out the release, an eight and a half minute excursion through soft, dream like chimes, twitchy synth tones, a heavily swung rhythm section and subtly nuanced structure.

Mia Zapata was the greatest rock singer of her time. She may have likely been the greatest blues singer in punk rock history, the woman who married the 78 and the '78. Tragedy did not make this true. Mia Zapata made this true, and the ferocious, spring-loaded shrapnel frame that was built around her by Andy Kessler (guitar: metronomic and furious), Matt Dresdner (bass: fluid, punching, beat-addicted and melodic), and Steve Moriarty (drums: martial and explosive) - who, with Mia, combined to form The Gits - made it true. The Gits were formed at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio in mid-1986, grabbing and swapping pieces of art, thrash, noise, punk rock, classic rock, and all the sorts of magical silly and bookish jingle bells that an old-school liberal arts education handed you; for the next few years they worked on turning it all into something tough, sensitive, both brutal and kind. Andy, Matt, Mia, and Steve moved to Seattle in middish 1989, landing in a house on Capitol Hill where they (and fellow travelers) wood-shedded and rehearsed for the next few years. The Gits put out three EPs in 1990 and '91 before signing with C/Z Records and releasing their first full-length album, Frenching the Bully. Seattle quickly claimed the quartet as their own and embraced the Gits blend of ferocious fangs and soft heart, the slug/slap of the guitars, and the gorgeous, soft underbelly of the poetic emotions. These qualities not only fit in with the doe-eyed/sharp-clawed grunge ethos but earned the Gits the respect of their peers, including Nirvana, who tapped them to open a major local show in 1990. Then other stuff happened, and their frantic, confessional barbed-heart snowball began rolling up hill very, very fast; the Gits "quickly" (hah! After half a decade learning to implode and explode hearts and stomping their boots on manifold beer-softened, Marlboro-weeded wood stages!) inspired rapture, awe, and the levitation that happened when peak emotion meets peak grindage in front of amps spitting out something that sounded like the mad marriage of Bolan swagger and Dischord tension_ all fronted by a genuinely incomparable woman who held her heart in her mouth and shared it, in all its celebration and fear, without hesitation. The Gits were an angry, inflamed slinky fully in tune with and tuned by the Bessie Patti Smith of her time, truly the only singer who could summon Joplin, Poly Styrene, Sam Cooke, Iggy Pop and Ian MacKaye all in the same goddamn song. In 1993, less than four weeks after accepting an offer from Atlantic Records, Mia died. I leave it at that, because this is not about death; it's about an extraordinary life. I do not say, "You should have been there," I say, "We are lucky so many of us were, and I am so glad we have this extraordinary evidence of the power and gifts of Mia and the Gits that you now can hold in your hands." And I note that Frenching the Bully, this extraordinary testament to the soul, shock, fury and feeling of the Gits, has been long out of print on vinyl and CD, and this new edition - remastered by legendary Seattle engineer Jack Endino - joyfully rectifies that. -Tim Sommer

SAISEI founder Junki Inoue continues his vital archival work uncovering the riches of Japan’s distinctive electronic music scene and bringing them to new audiences around the world.

HERO U.D.A. aka Hiroyoshi Udaka is not someone you can easily google, but he’s sure lived a life worth retelling. His story starts back in the late 80s when, inspired by the acid house emanating from the UK — during what was fondly christened the Second Summer of Love — he picked up DJing and made the move from Japan to London. Throughout the 90s he DJed at underground techno institutions like London’s The End, CLUB UK and Silver Fish, as well as at the infamous Tribal Gathering raves, periodically returning to Japan to support techno greats like Colin Dale, Mad Mike, Suburban Knight and D. Wynn on tour.

The tracks on this EP, previously unreleased except for one, were all recorded after Udaka moved back from London to Tokyo, between 2002 and 2005. Yet they sound strikingly modern, drawing on a rich range of sounds that have come back round again two decades later: broken beat, acid jazz, dub and breaks. Deceptively simple grooves are given depth by layers of textures and micro samples, for example the surface noise on ‘On The Way’ that glues together an otherwise sparse skeleton of dubby pads and body popping drums. ‘Mature Missile’, ‘So Good’ and ‘Night Driver’ employ raw broken beat templates with acid accents, whimsical melodies and vocal interjections for a playful mood. ‘Sin City’ takes a darker turn, off-key piano hits and plunging bass adding to the wonkiness. The EP closes with a wiggly vignette, ‘222AM’, reminiscent of early 00s contemporaries like Mouse On Mars. Now these hidden treasures from Udaka’s archive gain a new life on SAISEI.

———

SAISEI is a Japanese word which translates to ‘reproduction’ and ‘to play’ (as in playing records). Japanese culture is widely known for its traditional nature just as much as it is for being forward into the future and this label’s concept does justice to exactly that. Having started digging for records as early as 16 years old, Junki Inoue delved into productions from 1990s Japan to uncover these native gems. SAISEI’s core concept is to recapture and reintroduce unique pieces of Japanese electronic music onto vinyl, to an audience it never reached before as most of this music was only released in Japan.


b A2. So Good Acid Funk

Welcome to the second edition of Era Specific Noise! This release sees the debut of three talented new artists to the label - there's nothing better than a good VA. With an audible sonic influence and shared appreciation for the originality and love poured into old-school techno, ESPN002 has something for every drum machine lover out there.

We kick things off with Toecruncher's track "Turnstyle", the first of two driving pieces of dancefloor-friendly techno that make up the A side. A classic 16th note bassline, strong percussion, and just the right amount of ear candy and ephemeral pads - this work practically mixes itself into your DJ set. The next output by label head Richardson "Situational Awareness" builds off this style and adds a growling, modulated synthline, a uniqueness which ensures its memorability and slot in your bag.

The clarity in production of B1 "Occhio per occhio" by Alfa Cornae is hard to put into words. There's a mountain of percussion in this hardgroove-inspired piece and yet, everything seems to have its own place - and those squelchy breakdowns don't hurt either. Rounding off the release is "Kintsugi" - a slamming, industrial yet ethereal piece by Andrea Crestani. We personally enjoy a release that tells a story, and this track has all the hallmarks and melancholy of an EP closer.

We hope you enjoy your stay with Era Specific Noise - New school old school.

Amuleto Apotropaico has a way to fend off demons by channeling a secular spiritualism rooted in a rigorous but playful connexion to the infinite possibilities of noise. The propulsion of their continuous music ebbs into and flows out of this primordial flux through their unique brand of brutalist liturgy.

Amuleto Apotropaico is a Portuguese duo consisting of António Feiteira (drums & electronics) and Francisco Pedro Oliveira (guitar, flute & electronics) formed in 2021. Having grown up together, saturated in the lore of their hometown of Santa Maria da Feira, the duo now resides in Porto and continues to moor their rhythmic rituals in the traditions of Northern Iberia.

None of this is a nostalgic look back to a time-that-never-was. Amuleto Apotropaico's cycles are ouroboric: every step forward invokes a simultaneous step backward such that their observance of sonic ceremony (seeming to invoke a now-forgotten tradition) becomes a constructivist gesture that shapes its own legacy. If time-travel exists, this duo has found out how.

For their self-titled first release (also the first release of the Perf label), António Feiteira has culled, recomposed and processed recordings from the band's last two years of concerts in order to create a exciting 4-tracker. Apotropia I & II, which open sides A and B on the vinyl release, are both textural meditations on subtle density. Feiteira's sensitive percussion flourishes are married to Oliveira's modular-enhanced flute and guitar patterns. Albedo e Rito showcases the duo's sense of melodic contour while crescendoing to a peak of lightness. Bruxa do Calhau Branco, lifts the whole journey into an astral dimension where multi-layered drums, synths and digital clicks breathe out, announcing that their moment of worship has settled back into the ubiquitous hubbub of room hum.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. "We were trying to find our own space," says Cinder of the formative period Camouflage Heart emerged from, amidst a move from Edinburgh to London and Cinder's evolving exploration of gender identity, well before culture at large was equipped to understand. With contemporary discourse we see that the project manifested her transgender ideas as visceral music. The guttural, feral sound marked a notably darker turn from The Freeze's sixyear run on the fringes of punk. Changing the project's name became vital, not just because they kept hearing the former was already taken, but the desire to embody the spiritual and sonic shift, "to uncover new pathways_to feminize it," she says. Cinder, with bandmates David Clancy and John Byrne, arrived at Cindytalk, a winking nod to Sindy, the British fashion doll rival to Barbie known then for its pull-string talking mechanism. "The goal was to have a more interesting narrative, more interesting dialogue. Music was ultimately my only way of talking to people. That was my conversation with the world, an abstracted conversation_an attempt to make some kind of tiny, tiny mark, if possible, you hope somebody will notice." Over the years, Cinder has heard from fans who did pick up on the signals and find refuge in Camouflage Heart. Camouflage Heart plays with tension and pace, from creeping to feverish to claustrophobic. The percussion moves between restless marches and barely-there pulses; for some parts, they scratched and hit a tin bath, among other objects. Guitar lines vibrate and stab as Cinder contorts her voice freely. She pulls poetry from a cerebral abyss, like "make the snake in your eye, pierce the camouflage heart" on the slow-droning centerpiece "The Spirit Behind the Circus Dream." In that register is raw power, both vulnerable and menacing, an ability to locate something deep and emotionally charged within. "I still remember that person who was way too intense for their own good," Cinder reflects. "I couldn't make a record like that now, certainly not vocally, while that anger hasn't dissipated; there's still a kind of warrior." For all the destruction and disintegration of Camouflage Heart, Cinder maintains the objective was never full-on fatalistic; these songs seek not to destroy but to poke and provoke, to transform and heal, to find cracks of light in a crumbling world. She points to the last lines of the opening track, "It's Luxury": "Don't look down," the lyric pines through static and rhythm. Cinder extrapolates, "I'm essentially saying, just keep fucking going. As time went on, for me, that falling became flying. Camouflage Heart is the beginning of believing in flight."

Claire Chicha aka Spill Tab is feeling more free than ever before. The LA-based, French-Korean songwriter and producer,has spent the past five years as spill tab honing a sound that is as raw-edged as it is refined, channelling low-slung guitar-strumming confessionals as well as the earworming melodic hooks of anthemic pop to produce a heady and distinctive mix.

Following the 2019 release of her intimate and infectious debut single “Decompose”, Spill Tab has evolved her spill tab project through three EPs: 2020’s synth-pop influenced Oatmilk, 2021’s playful, uptempo Bonnie, featuring Gus Dapperton and Tommy Genesis, and 2023’s co-produced, sonically-intricate Klepto, which gleefully meanders from the Hiatus Kaiyote-influenced jazz freakouts of “CRÈME BRÛLÉE!” to the guitar-chugging thump of “Splinter”. Live, meanwhile, Spill Tab has been tapped for her explosively energetic presence to open the North American leg of popstar Sabrina Carpenter’s tour, as well as touring through Australia with alt-rock trio Wallows.
With “PINK LEMONADE”, opening single from her forthcoming debut album “ANGIE” , spill tab’s freewheeling sound finds its fullest expression, harnessing this onstage experience and recorded experimentation with her bass-weight and pitched-up vocals. Here we find Chicha only ever chasing that “weird thing”, fizzing with an infectious enthusiasm and intricate musicianship. “The best songs come from writing the main idea in a day, as it’s so instinctual,” she says, such as “PINK LEMONADE” recorded “from a clip taken out of a 40-minute jam that we then chopped and spliced”.
Born to her French Algerian composer father and Korean pianist mother, Claire Chicha spent her early childhood in the mixing room of her parents’ LA post-production studio, bringing coffees to artists as they tracked scores for exciting new projects. “I hung out in that studio all the time until I was around 10 years old, absorbing jazz music my dad was into and classical music that my mom loved,” Chicha says. “My mom had a big hand in making me an adventurous kid, always trying new things from piano to harp and violin, forever soaking up new sounds.”

At 12, Chicha’s life was uprooted as she relocated to Thailand to live with her mother’s family following the collapse of her parents’ business after the 2008 recession. What followed was an unstable and formative few years of early teenagedom, navigating new cultures and life changes. In Thailand, Chicha began learning guitar to cover the Paramore and Green Day tracks she had grown to love while also becoming immersed in Thai traditional music. After a year, she moved once more to live with her aunt in Paris and there she was introduced to the classic sound of Serge Gainsbourg and Édith Piaf before ultimately returning to LA following the untimely death of her father.

“I had to become a real people person to fit in everywhere I was moving, and it immersed me into so many different styles of music,” she says. “I went from listening to the nasal singing of Thai traditional music at muay thai fights in Bangkok, to emotive classic French songs. It definitely informed the need to experiment with my sound as I became more interested in making music.”

At high school in LA, Chicha joined one of the country’s foremost show choirs and realised a natural aptitude for stagecraft and performance as she sang medleys in competitions throughout the US. Going on to study Music Business at NYU, Chicha found a love for the alternative soul and singer-songwriting of the likes of Moses Sumney and Bon Iver, as well as developing her own sound while spending summers interning as an A&R at Atlantic Records and being exposed to the gamut of New York’s live music scene.

“I was going to so many shows as an A&R intern and seeing just how much a lot of music sounded alike,” she says. “It made me realise I wanted my music to feel different, to cut through the noise but still make something that felt honest to me.”

Beginning to independently release tracks, Soill Tab gradually built a loyal fanbase with the release of wistful early numbers “Calvaire” and “Cotton Candy” and soon found herself signed to a major label. Yet, as her career progressed through the COVID pandemic the demands of a corporate major began to conflict with her own searching style. “My last two EPs were under contract and it felt like I was always chasing the carrot,” she says, “I felt a certain pressure to put out tracks quickly and find that ‘hit’. It wasn’t the right environment to truly make what I wanted.”

Ultimately parting ways with her label, Chicha began work on a new album, exploring new sounds and ideas with her LA-based community of collaborators like producer David Marinelli, Solomonophonic, Wyatt and Austin and John DeBold, without expectation. “It became this beautiful experience of only following ideas that I really believed in and exploring all the musical avenues I hadn’t before,” she says. “I’ve never been more excited about songs and I’ve never felt like a project is more mine.”

Writing and recording while touring with Sabrina Carpenter and Wallows, Chicha road-tested her new tracks to see what might land best with an audience who had likely never heard her music before. “You have to win people’s hearts as an opener and you can see what resonates and what doesn’t,” she says. “I would watch people fall in love or not and it’s usually always the song you’re having the most fun with that does the best. That’s what I put on the record.”

« Angie », Spill’s Tab debut album is relased on because Music and expected for May 16th release.

REPRESS of the highly acclaimed album. Black Metal is one hell of an album. It's a downbeat, dark folk album, that manages to capture the vibe of the band's earlier work quite well. Pelander has managed to make a "doom album" without actually making one in the traditional sense. Black Metal manages to capture the world weary, woeful, attitude and vibe of doom better than a ton of albums that crank up the Sabbath worship to ridiculous levels. It's a work of darkness and despair and therefore it is another captivating chapter of this band's discography. (New Noise Magazine)

Gold nugget vinyl, limited to 200 copies. Black Metal is one hell of an album. It's a downbeat, dark folk album, that manages to capture the vibe of the band's earlier work quite well. Pelander has managed to make a "doom album" without actually making one in the traditional sense. Black Metal manages to capture the world weary, woeful, attitude and vibe of doom better than a ton of albums that crank up the Sabbath worship to ridiculous levels. It's a work of darkness and despair and therefore it is another captivating chapter of this band's discography. (New Noise Magazine)

For RSD 2025 the influential band will be releasing a new double LP edition of their Nine Sevens box set of 7" records first released in 2018. Combining the run of early singles with more obscure later period tracks underlines the strength in depth that Wire had. This is pop art as art/pop and an exploration of the blank canvas of pop culture and how far that canvas can be stretched going from three minute constructs to ambient washes. The 7" single was always the ultimate artefact and statement with the A side being the band momentarily paused in time and distilled and freeze-framed into the forever with less than three minutes of electric sound. These "sevens" released from 1977 to the end of that decade, signpost the band's remarkable development from their brilliantly monochromatic early phase to the textured complexity of the almost psychedelic unzipping of their sound and vision. In some ways the compilation of Nine Sevens onto a double album makes for quite a weird documentation of the band in this period. The first disc, to some extent, follows the script of a singles / greatest hits collection but the second one goes wildly off-piste and ends up somewhere quite far from where the collection started. A conventional Greatest Hits collection, besides being conceptually a bit naff would, if strictly based on charting singles, consist of only one song! A Best Of is subjective and somewhat pointless in the age of the Spotify playlist that anyone can make. The only thing really that these tracks have in common (besides being by Wire) is that they were released or destined to be released on 7" by Wire in the period 1977-1980. - Nine Sevens is both title & elevator pitch!' Wire always understood the language of pop and also the artfulness of playing with it, deconstructing it and reassembling it into new and thrilling shapes. Decades later, these adventures into sound are like slices of delicious, perfect pop/noise and hits from a parallel universe. Track list:Side A1 Mannequin 2 Feeling Called Love 3 12XU 4 I Am the Fly5 Ex-Lion Tamer 6 Dot Dash *7 Options R * Side B 8 Outdoor Miner (single version) * 9 Practice Makes Perfect 10 A Question Of Degree * 11 Former Airline *12 Map Ref. 41ºN 93ºW Side C 1 Go Ahead * 2 Our Swimmer * 3 Midnight Bahnhof Café * 4 Second Length (Our Swimmer) **5 Catapult 30 ** Side D (154 EP) 6 Song 1 * 7 Get Down 1 + 2 * 8 Let's Panic Later *9 Small Electric Piece * * previously unreleased on vinyl album ** recorded in 1980 but not released until 2014

Make Some Noise" ist nicht nur Musik: Es ist eine Grundsatzerklärung. In einer Szene, die sich manchmal repetitiv und inzüchtig anfühlt, beschließt MDB, die Regeln zu brechen und mit Klängen und Genres zu experimentieren, die normalerweise nicht nebeneinander existieren. Von der Kraft des Flamencos und der Intensität des Metals bis hin zur Seele des Blues, der Sinnlichkeit des Souls, der Aufmüpfigkeit des Punks, der Kraft des primitiven Rockabilly und der Frische des Surf ist jeder Song ein Schrei. Dieses Album fängt den Geist und die Energie der Berliner Subkultur ein, Unterschiede werden umarmt und die Kreativität kennt keine Grenzen, die Inspiration, Stile zu mischen und Grenzen zu überschreiten. "Make Some Noise" ist eine Einladung, aus der Komfortzone herauszutreten, zu feiern und zu entdecken, dass in den Unterschieden die wahre Kraft der Musik liegt.

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.

'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)'

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.

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.

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.

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.”

The debut album from CEM, 'FORMA' was developed as a soundtrack to Mauro Ventura’s series of "action painting performances" and uses various bell sounds (cowbells, doorbells, Shinto bells, singing bowls) to pick out anxious giallo sequences and heaving Dadaist formations.

CEM's best known for pneumatic DJ sets that have propped up Berlin's queer underground for a decade at this point, but don't expect to find any vaped darkroom tek on 'FORMA'. Each of the six compositions were commissioned for Ventura’s performative installation at Volksbühne in 2022, and CEM opted to represent the piece's themes of labor and repetition by sampling an arsenal of bells and metal objects that anchor his varying widescreen vignettes. 'The Calling' is a relatively subtle introduction, establishing the space with double bass drones and ratcheting digitally altered chimes - it's 'Bells Corrupt' that cements CEM's concept more righteously, harking back to Goblin's iconic 'Suspiria' score without pastiching any of its Italo-prog themes. Cycling ritualistic bell loops with squashed, industrial-strength thuds and granulised laptop belches, CEM silhouettes the tension and the vivid color of Argento's film, chrome plating the result.

'An Industrial Satire' is even more convincing; this one takes its cues from legendary German sound artist Limpe Fuchs, and the first part integrates scraped, alien resonances with CEM's loping industrial rhythms and squelchy EBM bassline. The real shift occurs in the second part, when CEM's choppy electroacoustic minimalism falls away to unlock his rolling hand drum performance, that he matches with a ghaita sample lifted from the Master Musicians of Joujouka's 1971 album with Brian Jones. With the future-facing deconstructions a memory, 'Statue Garden' beds reedy organ drones in eerie gallery ambiance, and closer 'The New Sincerity Test' finds Lithuanian performance artist Gertrūda Gilytė skewering the wellness industrial complex over nauseous subsonic oscillations and scratchy noise.

Looking behind the obvious, forming an orchestra out of everyday surroundings.

Finding the essence in the trivial, clarity in the complex, poetry in simplicity. All of this is part of the goal, meaning and character of Oh No Noh, the project of Leipzig-based guitarist, robot programmer, magnetic tape crumpler and composer Markus Rom. All of this floats and shines through "As Late As Possible", the third Oh No Noh album, which will be released on April 4th, 2025.

The focus of this album, as the title "As Late As Possible" suggests, was patience. A creative lingering, the selfimposed principle of letting ideas mature, consciously leaving them lying and looking at them again in order to discover and refine new things. Always looking for new ways of producing musical sounds, Markus Rom has been blurring the boundaries between LoFi, Indietronica, Postrock, Kraut and Pop with his solo project for several years. His main instruments for this are electric guitar, MIDI robots, tapes and samples. For “As Late As Possible”, Rom expands his setup with a new sound sources (acoustic guitar, banjo, organ) and musical guests: Damian Dalla Torre (Squama) on bass clarinet and Andi Haberl (the Notwist, Sun) on drums.

“As Late As Possible” continues the signature of past releases and adds new facets. Rom's distinctive looping in and over each other is particularly evident in the tracks “Missing the Point”, “Orb” and “Almost Everywhere”. With "Loot", a straightforward and folk-pop piece finds its way onto the album and coexists with math-trained tracks like "Dog Years" or "Dot", which conjure up associations with Weilheim bands like COUCH. The tracks "Bliss of Disconnect" and "Fawn" were created in collaboration with the featured guests Liz Kosack and KMRU. The confidently unplanned is one of the principles around which Oh No Noh itself is also continuously evolving. Part of this development: the radio series "Oh No Noh Radioh", which has so far consisted of over 40 parts, for which Rom invites a guest in each episode to research music together along roughly defined concepts, ideas and inspirations. Together with technology composer Hainbach, free jazz artist Limpe Fuchs and sound artist Elsa M’Bala, for example, encounters were created whose patient search and find and whose controlled coincidences also characterize “As Late As Possible” – but here concentrated, concise, and with all the love of sound and experimentation always committed to the song. With this will to create a song-like narrative, to move, to develop, “As Late As Possible” remains suspended and searching. Its concentration seems light-footed, its happy accidents well-placed, the melancholic beauty of outdated technologies, forgotten musical toys and broken noise sources always forward-looking. Music like the one that comes about when someone programs an entire robot band, which then becomes just a friendly part of the whole.

The artwork for “As Late As Possible” was created by Leipzig comic artist Anna Haifisch. The album was mixed by Adam Lenox and mastered by Frida Claeson Johannsson.

Repress!

Layer upon layer of noise and distortion, like ashes of nuclear apocalypse raining down. The final LP Disclose released, in 2004, captured the band at a high point. When other d-beat raw punk bands were running low on ideas, Kawakami reinvented the sound, incorporating more metallic influences like Broken Bones while still sticking assiduously close to the template. Originally released for Disclose’s tour of the US west coast, ‘Yesterday’s Fairytale, Tomorrow’s Nightmare’ includes ten tracks and closes with a rampaging masterpiece, the 10-minute ‘Wardead,’ which exists on another astral plane from generic Discharge copyists. This authorized reissue reproduces the original artwork and includes a new insert with liner notes by Stuart Schrader.

Carrying on their longstanding dedication to the seminal output of Merzbow, Urashima returns with what is unquestionably their most ambitious release to date: “Collection 001-010”, a deluxe, 10 LP vinyl box set limited to 299 copies, gathering together the entirety of the project’s first ten releases, originally released in 1981. Encountering the band in its early incarnation of the duo of Masami Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani, raw, exposed and bristling with energy, foreshadowing numerous trajectories they would follow over the coming years, these astounding full lengths - the majority of which have never been released on vinyl - come housed in a beautifully produced, deluxe wooden box, with each LP in its own individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, and a LP-sized 32-page book containing reproductions of artworls and collages by Masami Akita, an interview conducted by Jim O'Rourke, and liner notes penned by Lasse Marhaug, Thurston Moore, and Akita himself, amounting to what is unquestionably one of the most historically significant releases we’re likely to encounter in 2025.

Deluxe Edition of 299 copies, remastered from the original analog tapes by Masami Akita, each LP comes in its individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, also includes a LP-sized 32-page book. ** Since its founding during the late 2000s, the Italian imprint, Urashima, has become a definitive voice in the landscape of noise. Bringing forth beautiful limited edition releases, they’ve sculpted a singular vision of one of the most vibrant and revolutionary bodies of experimental sound to have graced the globe. Among the many projects that they have supported over the decades, there has been an undeniable dedication to the output of the seminal Japanese noise outfit, Merzbow, making a significant amount of the project’s out of print back catalog available across a range of formats. Now they return with what is arguably their most stunning and ambitious release dedicated to the project to date: “Collection 001-010”, gathering the entirety of Merzbow’s first ten releases, largely privately released by the band on cassette across 1981, in a deluxe, 10 LP vinyl box set. Representing what is effectively ground zero in Japanese noise and collectively amounting to some of the most sought after releases ever produced within that movement, Urashima’s truly beautiful collection comes fully remastered by Masami Akita himself from the original tapes, presenting all but a small number in their first ever vinyl pressings, with each LP housed in its own individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, alongside a LP-sized 32-page book containing reproductions of artworks and collages by Masami Akita, an interview conducted by Jim O'Rourke, and liner notes penned by Lasse Marhaug, Thurston Moore and Akita himself. Towering with energy and groundbreaking creative vision, within the realms of noise and experimental music, releases don’t get more monumental or historically important than this!

Merzbow came roaring onto the Tokyo scene in 1979, and remains, to this day, one of the most prolific and aggressively forward-thinking projects in experimental music. Eventually becoming the solo vehicle for the efforts of Masami Akita, in its earliest incarnation the project was the duo of Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani, taking their name from German artist Kurt Schwitters' pre-war architectural assemblage, The Cathedral of Erotic Misery or Merzbau, and quickly set out to challenge entrenched notions of what music could be. Embracing technology and the machine, even in its earliest iterations, Merzbow pushed toward new territories of the extreme, arriving at a space of pure, unadulterated sonic onslaught that has continued, for over 40 years, to set the pace for the entire genre of noise, and has remained one of the movement’s most important, definitive voices, continuously laying the groundwork for countless artists who have followed in its wake.

When dealing with historical gestures, there’s an invertible aura surrounding original line-ups and early statements, and rightfully so. It is often within a band’s debut that we catch the purest glimpse of the raw energy and creative ferment that made them what they are. This is certainly the case when regarding the coveted early releases of Merzbow, capturing the emergence of the project in its form as the duo of Masami Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani as they helped set the blue print from the then emerging movement of Japanese noise. Over the course of its nearly five decades of activity, Merzbow has always been noted for how prolific and ambitious the project is. This was no less the case in the very beginning. While they were active for roughly two years prior, in 1981 alone they issued ten self-released cassettes numerically titled “Collection 001-010”, albums which have both individually and collectively become holy grails in the realms of noise, with only two - “Collection 007” and “Collection 009” - ever receiving vinyl reissues prior to now.

As Lasse Marhaug deftly articulates in the newly commissioned liner notes for “Collection 001-010”, despite having been recorded in different location across a span of time, the sum total of Merzbow’s first ten releases might be best regarded as a single release to be listened to in the same, durational sitting, with the material standing well apart from what most came to expect from Merzbow, while foreshadowing numerous trajectories the project would take over the coming years. Not only do these recordings feature a vast array of instrumentation - tapes, acoustic and electric guitar, violin, drums, voice, recorder, organ, found sounds, clarinet, homemade and prepared instruments, a vast arsenal of effects and electronics, and piano, to only begin to scratch the surface - the majority of which would disappear from the project’s active sources of sound generation over the subsequent years, but there is a slow pacing and raw sense of openness and exposure that reveals strong connections to the avant-garde improvisations of groups like AMM, Musica Elettronica Viva, and Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, the psychedelia of groups like Taj Mahal Travellers and Flower Traveling band (both of whom Akita mentions having seen in youth within his interview with Jim O’Rourke), and rock in general - albeit in fully abstracted forms - unspooling as brittle, pointillistic, textural, raw and abrasive forms, that occasionally flirts with unexpected tonal sensibilities. As Marhaug describes it in his excellent liner notes: «Sonically, “Collection” sounds more sparse and stripped. It’s dry sounding, up-front, no reverb, and there’s less heavy low-end grime and thin on the signature frequency sweeps. Viewed in a 1981 context, musically, it’s more akin to what the LAFMS (Los Angeles Free Music Society) pool of artists were doing at that time than what was happening in industrial music... There’s a strong playfulness throughout, like the sound objects are being explored for the first time, without neither restraint nor hurry. Events are allowed to be fully examined before the music moves on, or simply cuts off. To a large degree, the music on “Collection” feels acoustic in nature, although a Electro-Harmonix ring-modulator features prominently throughout.»

Easily described as a rarely encountered revelation into the original and earlier documented studio sound of Merzbow, “Collection 001-010” collectively amounts to an engrossing sonic journey in its own right, while also allowing for important, often overlooked connections drawn from numerous other creative wellsprings, notably free jazz, underground rock, the output of European and Japanese avant-garde music, as well as Dada, Fluxus, and Mail Art, much of which, beyond the illumination made possible by the sounds, Jim O’Rourke’s fantastic interview with Akita, published in the booklet, further explores, offering great insights into the origins of Merzbow and the thinking behind the project, as well as aspects of the earliest days of Japanese noise.

Mint Green Vinyl. Graham Jonson is drawn to the comforts of melody and noise. How the two conspire in tension, tonally and atonally, stirring up memory and mood. This quality animates the technicolor world of quickly, quickly, the psych-pop project that emanates from Kenton Sound, his basement studio in Portland, Oregon. "Everywhere your eye lands, there's another curio to marvel over," noted Pitchfork's Philip Sherburne when he visited Jonson's recording space for a Rising feature just after the release of his "strikingly original" 2021 debut LP, The Long and Short of It. Since then, Jonson formed a live band, released his Easy Listening EP in 2023, and navigated the up-and-downs of a young musician, the sustainability of tours and relationships. While shaped by personal bouts and fallouts, his highly-anticipated full-length follow-up finds Jonson making music that's universal, open-ended, and rewarding, like great songwriters can do. He set out to make a folk album but couldn't help coloring it in with noise; a confluence of lush instrumentation and unexpected sounds. Ambitious yet intimate, hi-fi yet homespun, the idiosyncratic songs on I Heard That Noise curve around the contours of everyday life with warmth, wit, and dissonance.

To speak to Luca Daniel Schwarz aka LDS about his music is to be enthusiastically guided into a complex world of his own creation: clean and powerful techno which pulses with life from the textured patterns and drum sequences that have fills and accents that would make anyone who’s picked up a set of drumsticks envious. Yet this ecosystem of noise is deceptive; Schwarz’s process for making music is very different to how a live drummer would create the same subtlety of performance. Forever researching new technology, Luca got deeply interested in different programming languages, and created a series of probability-based music tools for manoeuvring sounds and sequencing.
Manipulating those probabilities takes a skilful alchemy, needing understanding of both musical structure and how the tools he devised work. To return to the drummer analogy, if the drummer is focussed and intentional in the moment of playing, then the method used in LDS tracks is almost diametrically opposed, with all of the intention coming in the assembly of the instruments, potential paths, and gateways; once play is pressed the music flows, following all the rules that were set in advance, not unlike a domino run or Rube Goldberg machine. And like a domino run, the results are fascinating and, ultimately, fun: staccato vocals pop in and out in ‘zipp prompt’; laser-like synths pulse; background noises sweep across the aural plane of the dub techno of ‘diff, blockmix’ and ‘pow’ adding texture that brings vitality all-too-easily missed out when complex mathematical
processes become entwined with music creation. The high sensitivity to texture and rhythmic detail in Stadion Progg is multiplied further on Jean Redondo's remix - whose track, Hypersonic, was the backbone of 2023’s ‘yet’ compilation on Tresor.
The balance between technology and a sense of fun might also come from the maker; it’s not easy to overstate Schwarz’s passion for what is now his favourite way to make music, “it never gets boring. There’s always a moment of anticipation to see what actually emerges.” And the true “power of 2” comes into play when the resulting music can be fed back through the system again and again, potentiating the music in exponential ways.

The latest drop on Art-E-Fax welcomes back deep cover braindance tinkerer Briain with a tape of warm and gritty electronica done the right way.

We last coaxed Barry O’Brien away from his day job as sound tech at beloved Berlin haunts Ohm and Tresor for a 12” back in 2019, and now he’s graced us with 11 slices of tweaked and freaked machine funk that should appeal to anyone who savours the maverick electro crossover between Rephlex and Drexciya.

The synth lines crunch and squirm and the beats stutter and rasp as Briain rolls out one wonkily perfect jam after another. In the intricate detail and movement that drives each track forwards you can sense the insular focus that comes with the best shut-in electronica. ‘Fist Fight Or Hug’ toys with sliced up breaks while ‘The Precipitous Descent Of Dignity’ deals in dystopian electro of the highest calibre. ‘Beal Bocht’; puts the drums to one side for a gloriously dislocated trip through FM synthesis and broken delay feedback and ‘Cognitive Dissonance’ revels in twitchy micro perc and delicate keys.

It’s a full-bodied album to sink your teeth into, and while it proudly carries the torch from certain legendary electronica forebears, it’s also delivered with all the charm and personality required to make for a future classic in the braindance canon.

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.