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Howdy punkè rocke fans, welcome to FORCED COMMUNAL EXISTENCE - the wonderful and frightening world of ALIEN NOSEJOB’s EP’s & singles. Anti Fade and Agitated Records are teaming together to bring you a paint stripping, mind altering, rare collection of EP and compilation tracks recorded in various Australian bedrooms and garages between 2017 and 2022. The sound of goofy obnoxiousness will soon be permeating your bedroom airwaves and perforating your eardrums. Kicking off this long player is an EP that was recorded by Billy from Anti Fade in his childhood bedroom in July 2017. The songs came to fruition while AUSMUTEANTS were on tour in Japan 2016.

There was a lot of ‘WALLABY BEAT’ / ‘MURDER PUNK’ being played in the background while seeing the sites of Mount Fuji and ‘Bar Fuck Yeah’. In between shows Jake was organising the release of DANNY GRAHAM and PLASTIC AND THE EP’S records on the label he co-ran XEROX MUSIC. Both artists played parts in the sound and ethos of the PANEL BEAT EP. The goal was to make the songs sound unapologetically Australian without pretending to be something they’re not. There’s no fake accents or songs about VB and mullets. Instead, there’s songs about every day struggles, like dealing with fickle fashion followers, having too many fucking records, playing PlayStation, resentment and manipulation.

500 copies were pressed and self released, with a photo slipped inside each copy at random. Next is THE DEATH OF THE VINYL BOOM which was self recorded in a shed in November 2017. This is the only Alien Nosejob release (besides this comp, smartarse) to feature a cover - Flyblown by Adelaidean arty weirdo band JACKSON ZUMDISH. The idea behind this EP was to incorporate the simplicity and scrappiness of the late 70’s DIY Australian sound, but give them the complicated structures of prog songs. Scum stats - 500 copies, self released. Several copies were smeared with Jake’s blood and had smashed pieces of vinyl glued to the front cover.

Now we have a cover of the DEAD KENNEDYS. The conspiracy theorist wet dream Government Flu. Recorded September 2020 during lockdown in one-man-band with a tape recorder fashion for a 20 minute unedited ‘live set’ video where all instruments were played one by one, sung and mixed in the space of a couple of hours. The HC45 7” was recorded at the same time as a disco 12” maxi, which I hear were originally meant to come out on the same day. Shit happens I guess? This EP came out in Feb 2020 and sounds somewhere between early GANG GREEN, DIE KREUZEN and the BEASTIE BOYS old bullshit. Self recorded on a 4 track with a broken pinch roller. Lyrically this thing is cynical and choc-a-bloc full of satire and hate. A year later a sequel was recorded the same way, on the same machine.

No fucking disco this time though. Cold Bare Facts is the most recent recording on this comp. Self recorded in Jake‘s bedroom 2022 It has the same mid paced tempo as DYS or SSD when they’re at their slowest (pre-Boston Curse, of course!). Both songs take a stinky shit on the Australian state police. 300 copies. Finishing the record is a cover by THE AINTS. Originally written by ED KUEPPER for THE SAINTS Eternally Yours album, but it sounded too similar to Lost and Found. Originally released on ‘ALTA’ cassette compilation during the lockdown. FORCED COMMUNAL EXISTENCE binds this mouthful of releases into one neat package from June 6th, 2025. Catch the ALIEN NOSEJOB band on tour in Europe & UK from June 13 - July 2nd, 2025.

Arriving as a standout group in the current American shoegaze renaissance, Phoenix four-piece Glixen transcend all expectations of what the genre should currently look and sound like. The band creates a profoundly heavy sonic experience with their music, paying respects to their predecessors but resulting in something completely modern. An amalgamation of influences like Björk, My Bloody Valentine, Godflesh, t.A.T.u, and Hum, their sound crawls with intensity and introspection to contrast lead singer Aislinn Ritchie's lulling vocals. Ritchie, began the project in 2020 enlisting guitarist Esteban Santana, drummer Keire Johnson, and bassist Sonia Garcia. Their approach to music has landed them on expansive tours and shows with rock music titans and contemporaries alike, supporting acts like Interpol, DIIV, Narrow Head and Nothing. Glixen has released a steady stream of music since their inception, with one EP and a handful of singles under their belt. She Only Said, was first released last summer with taste making Philly label Julia's War Records, bringing them to the attention of the national DIY scene. Working with producers like Jack Endino (Nirvana) and Sonny DiPerri (My Bloody Valentine, DIIV) for recent releases, this year has seen them take their sound to the next level, previewing a continuous sonic evolution.

Ltd. Fruit Punch Vinyl. Arriving as a standout group in the current American shoegaze renaissance, Phoenix four-piece Glixen transcend all expectations of what the genre should currently look and sound like. The band creates a profoundly heavy sonic experience with their music, paying respects to their predecessors but resulting in something completely modern. An amalgamation of influences like Björk, My Bloody Valentine, Godflesh, t.A.T.u, and Hum, their sound crawls with intensity and introspection to contrast lead singer Aislinn Ritchie's lulling vocals. Ritchie, began the project in 2020 enlisting guitarist Esteban Santana, drummer Keire Johnson, and bassist Sonia Garcia. Their approach to music has landed them on expansive tours and shows with rock music titans and contemporaries alike, supporting acts like Interpol, DIIV, Narrow Head and Nothing. Glixen has released a steady stream of music since their inception, with one EP and a handful of singles under their belt. She Only Said, was first released last summer with taste making Philly label Julia's War Records, bringing them to the attention of the national DIY scene. Working with producers like Jack Endino (Nirvana) and Sonny DiPerri (My Bloody Valentine, DIIV) for recent releases, this year has seen them take their sound to the next level, previewing a continuous sonic evolution.

Arriving as a standout group in the current American shoegaze renaissance, Phoenix four-piece Glixen transcend all expectations of what the genre should currently look and sound like. The band creates a profoundly heavy sonic experience with their music, paying respects to their predecessors but resulting in something completely modern. An amalgamation of influences like Björk, My Bloody Valentine, Godflesh, t.A.T.u, and Hum, their sound crawls with intensity and introspection to contrast lead singer Aislinn Ritchie's lulling vocals. Ritchie, began the project in 2020 enlisting guitarist Esteban Santana, drummer Keire Johnson, and bassist Sonia Garcia. Their approach to music has landed them on expansive tours and shows with rock music titans and contemporaries alike, supporting acts like Interpol, DIIV, Narrow Head and Nothing. Glixen has released a steady stream of music since their inception, with one EP and a handful of singles under their belt. She Only Said, was first released last summer with taste making Philly label Julia's War Records, bringing them to the attention of the national DIY scene. Working with producers like Jack Endino (Nirvana) and Sonny DiPerri (My Bloody Valentine, DIIV) for recent releases, this year has seen them take their sound to the next level, previewing a continuous sonic evolution.

Very few bands manage to last decades, and for the ones that do, it's often easy to settle down and get a little too comfortable. But there's nothing comfortable about Devourer, the explosive new album from Cursive. The iconic Omaha group is known for their intensity, ambition, and execution, and has spent 30 years creating a bold discography that's defined as much by its cathartic sound as its weighty, challenging lyrical themes. And Devourer is as daring as ever. Full of intense and incisive songs, the album proves exactly why Cursive have been so influential and enduring-and why they remain so vital today.In the years since their 1995 formation, Cursive developed into one of the most important groups to emerge from the late-'90s/early `00s moment when the lines between indie rock and post-hardcore began blurring into something altogether new. Albums like Domestica (2000) and The Ugly Organ (2003) became essential touchstones whose echoes can still be heard in new bands today. Devourer, as an expansive new double-album, examines humanity's bottomless capacity for consumption through a series of songs that act like vignettes, driven by frontman Tim Kasher's never-ending appetite for both taking in and creating art."I am obsessive about consuming the arts," he explains. "Music, film, literature. I've come to recognize that I devour all of these art forms then, in turn, create my own versions of these things and spew them out onto the world. It's positive; you're part of an ecosystem. But I quickly recognized that the term, `Devourer,' may also embody something gnarly, sinister." Fans have come to expect such heady topics from Cursive, but Devourer sets a new standard.While Cursive's music hasn't gotten any more comfortable, perhaps its being released into a world that's at least a little more shaped in their image. Devourer sounds urgent and fresh, the work of a band still experimenting, still hungering to find new creative heights. On album highlight "Consumers," the protagonist bemoans, "I saw our future and I want to go back." But Cursive are only moving forward.

Auf Blood On the Silver Screen verbindet die Universalgelehrte ihre am Konservatorium für klassische Musik erworbenen Fähigkeiten als Musikerin, Produzentin und Komponistin mit ihrer unerschrockenen und bombastischen Bühnenpersönlichkeit, um ihre bisher realistischste Musik zu schaffen: das absolute SASAMI-Pop-Album.

Nachdem sich SASAMI mit der ausbalancierten Melancholie ihres selbstbetitelten Debütalbums von 2019 etabliert hatte, setzte sie auf Squeeze (2022) auf Lautstärke und Kontrolle - und tourte mit einer Metal-Band -, doch ihr Ziel für Blood On the Silver Screen war es, ihre Wahrheit mit Überzeugung durch Gesang auszudrücken. In Zusammenarbeit mit den Co-Produzenten Jenn Decilveo und Rostam und mit SASAMI als alleiniger Songwriterin, fängt jeder Track von Blood On the Silver Screen ein anderes Thema von Liebe, Sex, Macht und Verkörperung ein. "Popmusik ist wie Treibstoff", sagt Sasami. "Sie ist einfach belebend." Sasami wendet sich vom aktuellen Pop-Zeitgeist ab und dem Pop der späten Achtziger und der 2010er Jahre zu, wie Britney Spears' Femme Fatale und Lady Gagas Born This Way, aber auch Kelly Clarkson, Katy Perry und Sia. Beeinflusst wurde sie vom modernen Country-Storytelling, das Verletzlichkeit mit Humor mischt, aber auch Prince, japanischer City-Pop und die stadiongroße, in Jeans gekleidete Ikonographie von Bruce Springsteen standen auf dem Moodboard








h B2 For The Weekend

Limitiertes 140G rotes Vinyl im Gatefold Sleeve mit bedruckter Innenhülle, Poster (12x24) und Downloadkarte

Auf Blood On the Silver Screen verbindet die Universalgelehrte ihre am Konservatorium für klassische Musik erworbenen Fähigkeiten als Musikerin, Produzentin und Komponistin mit ihrer unerschrockenen und bombastischen Bühnenpersönlichkeit, um ihre bisher realistischste Musik zu schaffen: das absolute SASAMI-Pop-Album.

Nachdem sich SASAMI mit der ausbalancierten Melancholie ihres selbstbetitelten Debütalbums von 2019 etabliert hatte, setzte sie auf Squeeze (2022) auf Lautstärke und Kontrolle - und tourte mit einer Metal-Band -, doch ihr Ziel für Blood On the Silver Screen war es, ihre Wahrheit mit Überzeugung durch Gesang auszudrücken. In Zusammenarbeit mit den Co-Produzenten Jenn Decilveo und Rostam und mit SASAMI als alleiniger Songwriterin, fängt jeder Track von Blood On the Silver Screen ein anderes Thema von Liebe, Sex, Macht und Verkörperung ein. "Popmusik ist wie Treibstoff", sagt Sasami. "Sie ist einfach belebend." Sasami wendet sich vom aktuellen Pop-Zeitgeist ab und dem Pop der späten Achtziger und der 2010er Jahre zu, wie Britney Spears' Femme Fatale und Lady Gagas Born This Way, aber auch Kelly Clarkson, Katy Perry und Sia. Beeinflusst wurde sie vom modernen Country-Storytelling, das Verletzlichkeit mit Humor mischt, aber auch Prince, japanischer City-Pop und die stadiongroße, in Jeans gekleidete Ikonographie von Bruce Springsteen standen auf dem Moodboard








h B2 For The Weekend

(Limited edition to 500 copies, remastered audio, pressed and printed in Indonesia) The 13 tracks contained in this compilation “Begadang: Soneta Group Best Songs, 1975-1980” are some the most innovative music that came out of Indonesia’s music scene in the 1970s, tunes that has cemented Rhoma Irama’s status as the king of the genre.



Dangdut is the biggest musical genre in Indonesia. Dangdut, onomatopoetic name from the sound of hand drums used in this type of music, is what reggae to Jamaicans, country to Americans or skiffle to mid 20th century British people. And in this genre of dang dut, the name Rhoma Irama looms large. He is until today the undisputable king of dangdut and his role as pioneer of the music is already in the history book. In fact, there's one book documenting the outsized role of Rhoma in establishing dangdut as the father of this music. The book is aptly titled Dangdut Story, written by Pittsburgh University music professor Andrew N. Weintraub.



Among Indonesian fans of dangdut, there’s this one misconceptions that dangdut music is that it is an indigenous art form from Indonesia and that it constitutes an amalgamation of local, traditional music of this Southeast Asian nation, with Malay music being the most prominent feature in the mix.



Dangdut pioneer Rhoma Irama is among the first to reject this assertion. “Dangdut music may have originated in Deli (in North Sumatra) but then got the influences from the West and India”, he said.



Indeed, most of Rhoma’s well-known compositions may have been influenced by Indian tunes but some of his best quality works owed much to the West.



Rhoma had long found home in Western pop music. In the early 1960s, after honing his guitar playing skill, Rhoma set up his first band Gayhand to play the tunes of The Beatles, Paul Anka and Tom Jones. In 1972, Rhoma won best singer title in a Southeast Asia singing competition in Singapore playing Tom Jones “I Who Have Nothing.”



Yet, nothing changed Rhoma’s fortune in the music industry, to a point where he decided to leave pop and switched to playing Orkes Melayu (Malay Orchestra) music, first with Orkes Melayu Purnama and later with Soneta Group.



His career soon took off with Soneta, especially after he introduced what ethnomusicologist William H. Frederick considered as “theatre”, through which Rhoma borrows many elements from stage performances of British and American rock bands. These elements, kitsch and pomp, he liberally adopted and became an inseparable part of dangdut itself; tight pants, long hair, platform shoes, glitter and glamour which would not be out of place in Elton John and David Bowie stage show.



And this is actually the contradiction of Rhoma’s brand of Malay music. “One might legitimately ask how imaginative, not to say bizarre, costuming and dancing with abandon could be related to some of the objectives of Rhoma has set for himself and soneta group”, Frederick wrote on his seminal work on the singer, Rhoma Irama and the Dangdut Style: Aspects of Contemporary Indonesian Popular Culture, published in 1982.



From technical point of view, Rhoma not only replaced the acoustic elements from Melayu Music with electric instruments but also created new synthetic sounds that has never been attempted before in Indonesia’s music industry.



Detractors like to point out how much he was indebted to Deep Purple, but a closer inspection reveals how he in fact had mined his influences even deeper.



Notice how Rhoma reproduced funk, which is all the rage in early 1970s, in the song “Santai” (Relax), this album’s closer or “Credit Title (Instrumentalia)” which opens this Darah Muda (Young Blood) soundtrack. The rubbery bass lines that open both songs can easily find home in any Sly and the Family Stone’s or Isaac Hayes’ tunes from that era. Other highlights of the song is the funky guitar licks and the droning Hammond a la George Clinton that stabs deep in the record groove. In the guitar solo, you can also hear the bark of George Harrison’s licks from “Taxman”.



The 13 tracks contained in this compilation “Begadang: Soneta Group Best Songs, 1975-1980” are some the most innovative music that came out of Indonesia’s music scene in the 1970s, tunes that has cemented Rhoma Irama’s status as the king of the genre. Only 500 copies were pressed for this compilation.

Over the last few years upstate NY has been breeding some stone-cold killers in the rap game, and the mysterious natural-born storyteller GREA8GAWD is one of the standout names, turning people’s heads with his cold-blooded rhymes and catching the attention of many legends in the game getting co-signs from the likes of Roc Marciano and Benny The Butcher among many others. Gritty tales of street life viciously delivered over productions by Merc Betz, who curated the entire album with GREA8GAWD himself, as well as Whip Beats, Thanos Beats, Inkwelltwowords, Sypooda, Alcatracks, Agallah, Nomass, Big Skoon, and guest appearances by Hell Rell, Joey Majors and Rellion.

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Quinnisa Kinsella-Mulkerin recorded her first song at five years old with her parents, who comprise the adventurous Maine band, Big Blood. Ever since the age of five, she was writing songs, banging on chimes, strumming guitars, and clanging together whatever else she could find. Improvisation was natural, and she stuck to the approach. Quinn brings this innate sense of songwriting to The Wickies, a duo she formed with Aiden Arel a year ago at age 16, whose chill approach and fluid delivery belie true inventiveness in the underneath mechanics. Inspired by seventies folk icons like Stevie Nicks, Krautrock bands like Can, and modern indie-rockers like Alex G, The Wickies feel like an amalgamation of these decade-spanning sounds, but uniquely their own. Quinn’s voice croons like a seventies folk star, but it possesses a great and controlled tone. Her vocals feel like another instrument within the mix, building and growing each song to its fullest sound, leaving no detail within the mix unheard. Their use of echoing guitar lines recalls sixties psych, a springboard for their unique take. Quinn’s lush, free-flowing lyrics, created on the spot, complement Aiden's fleshed out backing instrumentation and over-dubbing. Quickly, the pair created more material than they ever needed, allowing them to mold their recordings into a self-titled debut album. Like a painter crafting the perfect exhibition of their finest work, Aiden and Quinn condensed their improvisations to all the best parts. Tracks like “Campfire Song” and “Skipping Pond,” exemplify the ethereal and lackadaisical atmosphere of their sound. “I keep finding these weird, obscure bands from the seventies that have one album and nothing else, which is awesome,” Quinn said, “I want my music to sound like somebody found it in a record store that no one has ever heard of and uploaded it to YouTube. I want it to sound a little strange.”

"A group of tried-and-true musicians got together and found the sort of camaraderie and kinship you typically only find once in a lifetime. They didn’t overthink it. They didn’t waste a second. They simply left their blood, sweat, and tears on tape—like they’ve always done. For as much as Better Lovers represents the union of former Every Time I Die members Jordan Buckley guitar,Steve Micciche [bass], and Clayton “Goose” Holyoak [drums] with The Dillinger Escape Plan and Killer Be Killed frontman Greg Puciato [vocals],and musician (Fit For An Autopsy/END) and GRAMMY® Award-winning producer, Will Putney [guitar], it really cements the bond of five friends around a shared vision. That vision is as uncompromising, unapologetic, and undeniable as anything they’ve individually done, yet it’s refined by experience and a commitment to a future together. They’re in it for the long haul... “To me, this band is refreshing,” exclaims Jordan. “Looking back, I’m so happy everything got me to where I am. The pandemic and the last few years made me hungrier and more grateful. This isn’t a hobby. This isn’t temporary. This is the next evolution for each of us. Greg and Will rejuvenated me and made me even more confident.



Now, everybody needs to know we’re a wild animal that just broke out of the zoo—there’s no trying to put it back in the cage.” “Better Lovers definitely feels like its own thing,” states Greg. “I’m in so many lanes right now, so it was important that one lane didn’t step on another. However, nothing I’m doing is this vicious. This is full-on scathing. It’s been really fun. I forgot how much I liked that.” As the story goes, Jordan ended up back in Buffalo, NY, jamming in a basement rehearsal spot with Steve and Goose during the winter of 2022. After working with Will on the last two Every Time I Die records, they shared a handful of early demos with him to produce. As the year progressed, Jordan caught Greg on the road with Jerry Cantrell in Las Vegas, mentioning the new music. Once ideas solidified, he shared them with the vocalist who replied at 3am one night in December. “The text said, ‘Let’s give these motherfuckers what they want’,”chuckles Jordan. “I went to bed smiling and laughing. There is no one like Greg on stage, off stage, or over text. Once I told Will, he was like, ‘Can I play?’ We said, ‘Of course!’ That’s how it was born.” “Once I pick up the scent, I’ll go for the kill,” smiles Greg. “We’ve all hung out, gotten to know each other, and it’s all fire now. Everyone has already been through shit. You know yourself better. Your ego isn’t as big as it used to be. You can share your opinions. It’s a cool dynamic.” Fittingly, they introduce this era with the single “30 Under 13.” A seasick guitar groove bleeds into an incisive riff punctuated by Greg’s vitriolic and venomous screams, “Hold onto me, try to let go of me, let go of what you’ll never be. ”This barrage unpredictably subsides on a haunting clean vocal, only to ramp back up into a pit-splitting thrash crescendo and rapid-fire solo played at warp speed. “We always try to up our game,” notes Jordan. “This is the next step for all of us. There’s just constant forward motion, and we don’t want to compromise that. We want to keep going. We’re doing a lot of shit we haven’t done before in Better Lovers. I’m not going to spoil it for you, but get ready.” “For some reason, this song got me,” recalls Greg. “Once that happens, you have the toe of the dinosaur skeleton in the dirt. You start brushing it away, and soon you have a fucking T-Rex.” The name might give you a hint of what’s coming—or it might not. So, what does the future hold for Better Lovers? Well, it’s entirely in their control. Expect a lot of touring. Expect more music. Expect these five guys to leave a trail of destruction in their wake—really would you want anything less? “We feel like we’re going to explode if we sit around any longer,” Jordan leaves off. “This is my life’s work. I learned all of my lessons, passed all of the tests, and took all of the right turns and the wrong turns. It turns out what I thought were wrong turns got me here, and that’s all that matters. I have no regrets. I know this is what I’m supposed to be doing.” “I just want you to view this on its own merits,” Greg concludes. “I hope it reaches some new people. For me, the enjoyment is making the music and putting it out. The second it’s released, I don’t look back. You drop the bomb and keep flying the plane. You don’t circle back to see how much destruction you cause. You keep moving, which is what we’re going to do.” "

As the 21st century was born, so Kreator underwent what was nothing less than a seismic creative rebirth. By this time, the iconic German band had released nine studio albums in the 1980s and '90s, which had established them as one of the most important metal names of these decades.In the first period, they had helped to shape and pioneer the thrash scene through such releases as 'Pleasure To Kill' (1986), 'Terrible Certainty' ('87) and 'Extreme Aggression' ('89). During the following decade, the band had opened up exciting horizons of experimentation on albums like 'Coma Of Souls' (1990), 'Renewal' ('92) and 'Endorama' ('99).
Now, though, it was time to move into a fresh era, as vocalist/guitarist Mille Petrozza explains.
“During the 1990s, we were definitely experimenting with what the band were doing. But (drummer) Ventor and I decided that for this album – our first of the new millennium – we wanted to go back to the sort of sound that we had at the start of Kreator. In other words, to get back to the reason why we began the band in the first place.”

There was also new guitarist introduced, as Sami Yli-Sirniö (who had made his reputation with Finnish band Waltari) took over from Tommy Vetterli. The latter (also known as Tommy T. Baron) had joined in 1996 and played on the 'Oucast' (1997) and 'Endorama' albums.

The producer for this album was Andy Sneap, who was now making a name for himself as one of the pre-eminent masters of this art in the modern metal world.“I had known and liked Andy since the days he had been the guitarist in Sabbat, as they were signed to Noise Records as Kreator were on that label. He was our first choice to work on this new project. I liked what he'd done for Testament on their album 'The Gathering' (released in 1999). He had given them a sound they'd never had before, and that really was what we were after. It was natural and organic, and also very modern. I remember phoning him at his Backstage Studios in England (Ripley in Derbyshire). And Warrel Dane, the vocalist in Nevermore, answered. Andy was producing their new album at the time ('Dead Heart In A Dead World', 2000). And when I heard this, again I was very impressed. So, I was delighted when he agreed to produce the new Kreator album.”

The album title came from something Petrozza had read. “In a book I came across a comment that John F. Kennedy said (in 1962). This was: "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable”. I thought 'Violent Revolution' would make a good title for an album. So, I kept it in my mind for this record. I think 'Violent Revolution' is a title that makes a real impact.”

One interesting aspect of the track listing was that the 52 second instrumental 'The Patriarch' actually came after the opening song 'Reconquering The Throne'. Fans might have been expected that it would have opened the album. But for Petrozza, there was a logical reason for this not to happen. “We really wanted to lead off with a thrashing track, to show everyone what we were now doing musically. After 'Endorama', it was important that everyone should recognise this was a new era for Kreator.”

'Violent Revolution' is without question an excellent album. While in some ways it does hark back to the glories of the band's earlier days, nonetheless it does not sound at all nostalgic. The performances and production values are very much part of the contemporary era, and the strength of the compositions themselves are of the highest values. Rising to the challenge offered by a new generation of ambitious metal bands, Kreator proved they were far from being a spent force. Unlike so many of their peers, here was a band who still had so much creativity to offer, and were also clearly excited themselves by what they were doing. And when you hear the band themselves enjoying the entire process, then you know this is a bona fide revitalisation.

Paraphilia is an American death metal band hailing from the pacific northwest (Portland, Oregon). This cellar dwelling duo debuted their nasty brand of guttural destruction in the form of 2021's EP Primordium of Sinister Butchery. A frenzied titanic sized sixteen minute beatdown.

So here we are now 2023, brings us their 'super' debut full length "The Memory of Death Given Form". This record is already creating some major ruckus in death metals underground circle.

Comprised solely of SP (vocals/guitars/bass/programming) and KRP (vocals/lyrics), Paraphilia's brand of brutal & technical death metal is of the thick and chunky variety. Foot stomping groove mixed with gut punching brutality. This unmerciful bastard child snorts, snarls, growls, and lurks about waiting to hammer your bones into dust. The song structures are complex enough to impress, but also memorable and downright unforgiving in the headbanging department.

With a touch of the old school, some intricate guitar dissonance, masterfully written songs, and teeth loosening heaviness, "The Memory of Death Given Form" will delight and destroy even the hardened of death metal elites.

It contains 7 massive tracks (with a Bloodbath cover) chock-full of sophisticated dense riffs and relentless drum pummelling that's nothing short of being an aural sledgehammer, the album kicks off with a crushing track that takes no prisoners.

Technically proficient but insanely groovy "Memory of Death Given Form" is a thick beast of jarring tempos and vomit inducing guitar savagery. Harsh, drawn out gutturals over rhythmic guitar mayhem is enough to make anyone feel like they could run straight through a brick wall. Unadulterated death metal ferocity.

To put it bluntly, this is DAMN fucking GOOD, and you would be hard-pressed to find any better death metal this year.

Sure for fans of: Bloodbath, Hate Eternal, Suffocation, Devourment & similar.

Available on a delicious black and yellow super marble 180gr. vinyl, and solid yellow vinyl, and both are limited at 100 copies each.

Paraphilia is an American death metal band hailing from the pacific northwest (Portland, Oregon). This cellar dwelling duo debuted their nasty brand of guttural destruction in the form of 2021's EP Primordium of Sinister Butchery. A frenzied titanic sized sixteen minute beatdown.

So here we are now 2023, brings us their 'super' debut full length "The Memory of Death Given Form". This record is already creating some major ruckus in death metals underground circle.

Comprised solely of SP (vocals/guitars/bass/programming) and KRP (vocals/lyrics), Paraphilia's brand of brutal & technical death metal is of the thick and chunky variety. Foot stomping groove mixed with gut punching brutality. This unmerciful bastard child snorts, snarls, growls, and lurks about waiting to hammer your bones into dust. The song structures are complex enough to impress, but also memorable and downright unforgiving in the headbanging department.

With a touch of the old school, some intricate guitar dissonance, masterfully written songs, and teeth loosening heaviness, "The Memory of Death Given Form" will delight and destroy even the hardened of death metal elites.

It contains 7 massive tracks (with a Bloodbath cover) chock-full of sophisticated dense riffs and relentless drum pummelling that's nothing short of being an aural sledgehammer, the album kicks off with a crushing track that takes no prisoners.

Technically proficient but insanely groovy "Memory of Death Given Form" is a thick beast of jarring tempos and vomit inducing guitar savagery. Harsh, drawn out gutturals over rhythmic guitar mayhem is enough to make anyone feel like they could run straight through a brick wall. Unadulterated death metal ferocity.

To put it bluntly, this is DAMN fucking GOOD, and you would be hard-pressed to find any better death metal this year.

Sure for fans of: Bloodbath, Hate Eternal, Suffocation, Devourment & similar.

Available on a delicious black and yellow super marble 180gr. vinyl, and solid yellow vinyl, and both are limited at 100 copies each.

Das unerbittliche Debütalbum von EDGE OF SANITY, "Nothing But Death Remains", ist 33 Jahre nach seiner Entstehung wieder zu haben. Aus der Feder von Songwriter/Frontmann/Produzent Dan Swanö (Bloodbath, Dissection, Incantation) kriecht "Nothing But Death Remains" in drei Formen bedrohlich ans Licht: als remasterte Original-Albumversion (LP, CD, Digital), als spezieller 2024-Remix (CD Bonus und Digital) und als eine nie zuvor veröffentlichte Rough-Mix-Version von 1991 in alternativer Reihenfolge (CD Bonus). Das 1991 erstmals veröffentlichte Death-Thrash-Meisterwerk von EDGE OF SANITY enthält die brutalen Angriffe von "Human Aberration", "The Dead", "Immortal Souls" und das unnachahmliche "Tales...". Erhältlich als Limited Deluxe 2CD Jewelcase mit O-Card und in 180g Vinyl, finden langjährige Fans und neue Anhänger von EDGE OF SANITY "Nothing But Death Remains" in seinen ultimativen Konfigurationen.

HOMESHAKE ist das Projekt des kanadischen Home-Producers Peter Sagar, dessen Sound halluzinatorisch und herzzerreißend in seinen Schreien nach Verbindung ist, strukturiert, tiefgründig, auf einzigartige Weise seine vielfältigen Einflüsse würdigend. "Horsie", das siebte HOMESHAKE-Album und das zweite in 2024, vertieft Sagars Beziehung zu Einsamkeit und Angst und untersucht diese Themen im Kontext von Live-Auftritten. Die 12 Songs verwenden von Künstlern wie Four Tet und My Bloody Valentine beeinflusste Texturen, die rhythmischen Formen von D’Angelo und Sade sowie Ambient Americana-Momente im Stile Ry Cooders.
Following March's CD Wallet, HOMESHAKE presents his second album of 2024, Horsie. Written and recorded at his home studio in Toronto, it explores Sagar’s complicated feelings about returning to live performance. Deepening his relationship to loneliness and anxiety, the record examines those themes in the context of touring.

Horsie employs various textures influenced by artists like Four Tet and My Bloody Valentine, the rhythmic forms of D’Angelo and Sade, and moments of ambient Americana found in the works of Ry Cooder. The cornerstone pieces of gear used were an Ensoniq EPS and Roland Juno 60, though the album also employs a great deal of electric guitar, along with his beloved SP-404. He maintains a philosophy of “less is more,” finding the simplest route from one point to another.

HOMESHAKE, the musical project of Peter Sagar, is an expression of adjustment and contortion within the world as he experiences it and the sounds he wants to hear in it. Hallucinatory and heartbreaking in its cries for connection, Sagar’s sound is often imitated but has proven to be entirely his own; textural and profound, uniquely honoring his diverse influences but adrift within its own transportive imagination.

Panoram makes soundtracks for daydreams gone sideways. Picture the scene: an afternoon nap with the television on, quietly, in the corner; snatches of conversation drift in through the open window. Wandering, half-formed thoughts take unexpected detours; before you know it, there’s a movie playing out against closed lids, the colors bright, the characters unfamiliar. Accidental rhythms, incidental melodies, imitations of life, messages in code.

Across 17 fragmentary, sketch-like tracks, Panoram carves a labyrinthine path in which nothing is what it seems: a fantasy world of breathy vox pads, faux guitar, detuned synths, bursts of flute and orchestral percussion, and even the occasional cheeky cartoon sample. It’s chillout music with a chilly edge, ambient with a darkly ironic undertone. (The briefest glance at your news outlet of choice should be enough to confirm that the title—Great Times—ought to be taken with a healthy dose of skepticism.)

Panoram has been making music under his principal alias for more than a decade now, releasing albums on labels like Firecracker, Running Back, and his own Wandering Eye. (He has also performed and recorded with Amen Dunes, and has co-production credits on Amen Dunes’ forthcoming Sub Pop album Death Jokes.) Panoram’s output has ranged widely, taking in abstract pop, classical composition, twisted takes on library music, and cyborg funk. One record of “bio-acoustic transmissions” came with a cannabis leaf pressed in clear wax; his 2021 album Pianosequenza Vol. 1 gathers his experiments on the Yamaha Disklavier. But Great Times offers the truest picture yet of a project that has never been easy to pin down.

Loath to overshare details about his personal life, Panoram instead lets the music do the talking, using his cryptic tracks to express the slipperiest sorts of ideas—the thoughts that take root where anxiety, distraction, and the most fleeting traces of grace commingle. Panoram’s approach flies in the face of contemporary ambient orthodoxy, with its emphasis on immersion and uplift. Great Times expresses something thornier, more difficult to translate, yet also more tantalizing to contend with. Its 17 tracks offer a chance to get lost—and an invitation to remain in the maze as long as you like.

Black vinyl back in for the first time in a while, note new price. Produced by Leon Michels. Toured with Chicano Batman. Planned touring with Lee Fields & The Expressions. What is Buck? Buck is a state of mind, a way of life, a demeanor that gets you through the good times and the bad. If you ask Brainstory, It is also the energy that permeates their debut album. Kevin, Tony, and Eric are a trio of brothers bounded by blood, fate, and a small town with nothing to do. Their story begins in the long lost lands of the San Bernardino Valley, in the twilight zone known as Rialto, California: An arid wasteland of boredom and empty lots. Through punk rock and skateboarding they found temporary liberation from the local monotony. However, it wouldn’t be long before a hunger for more led them to explore musical realms beyond that of the hardcore punk they admired. After stints at music school and steady disappointment trying to navigate their local jazz scene they moved to Los Angeles and Brainstory was born. Through a introduction from Chicano Batman’s bassist, Brainstory caught the ears of Big Crown head honchos Danny Akalepse and Leon Michels. Shortly thereafter they were on their way to Queens, to record at The Legendary Diamond Mine with Michels at the helm. An instant chemistry yielded 10 songs in 10 days and now Brainstory has gifted the world with one hell of an introduction to all things Buck. Highlights include the sublime slow burner, “Dead End” which was the A-side to their first 45 on Big Crown that sold out in a matter of days. With Kevin’s sublime falsetto floating atop Tony and Eric’s unflappable and unmistakable backbeat, this tune has become a favorite with the ballad heads, the low-riders, and the slowie collectors. “Breathe” showcases another side of their sound taking a page out of the Shuggie Otis playbook and flipping the script with some stoned out west coast swag. Kev and Tony’s father, Big Tone, an accomplished performer himself, steps in on “Peter Pan” to sing lead vocals over a chorus of friends and family. Bassist extraordinaire, Tony, takes over lead vocal duties on “Sorry”, a smoked out, G Funk groove that is just waiting to be sampled. These guys have come a long way from their self released EPs and opening tours with Chicano Batman. Their musical growth is undeniable, and taking their California sunshine vibes and mixing them with Michels’ NYC aesthetic has proven to be an amazing combination. It’s a debut record that pulls influences from so many genres seamlessly it’s hard to nail down. Call it Funk, call it Rock, call it Soul, but over here at Big Crown HQ, we’ve decided to call it BUCK.