Suche:opia

Up The Bracket arrived like a raging bull in a tired post-Britpop china shop and introduced the world to The Libertines, a new gang of London bohemians, whose ragged tunes, red military tunics, opiated poetry and "live now pay never" lifestyle came to define the millennial angst of the early noughties. At the heart of the band is the blood bond bromance between the ramshackle Music Hall Jagger/Richards, Peter Doherty and Carl Barat, ably assisted by the rock solid rhythm twins John Hassall and Gary Powell. Any bookie worth his salt would have given you short odds on this quartet surviving more than a month or two, given the teetering on the brink lifestyle they chose to lead, but here we are two decades later and our Byronic heroes, though older and wiser, are still fighting the good fight and making music every bit as vital as their debut. The belief, talent and fervour that Doherty spoke of in their earliest manifesto has stood them in good stead. Up The Bracket, justly considered one of the greatest albums of the noughties, was originally released on October 21st 2002 by Rough Trade Records. The album, a heady stew of indie rock, skiffle, blues, dub and English bucolic pop, was a huge shot in the arm to a largely redundant music scene and helped to inspire the rebirth of guitar music, going on to influence countless artists who followed in its wake. Up The Bracket, which was produced by Mick Jones of The Clash, takes you on a wondrously poetic journey into the band"s mythical world and their fevered dreams of Albion, a land of squalid glamour, liberty, equality, fraternity, gin palaces and chip shops. Quite simply Pete, Carl, Gary and John created a hugely compelling timeless British rock"n"roll classic debut as relevant now as it was upon its release.

repress

"The haunting ambience of Beat fit somewhat with the then-popular Massive Attack and Portishead, but the album's subsonic drone made it more of a minimal mood piece than a collection of songs." MAGNET

The second in a trio of albums released by the core duo of Lawrence Chandler and Martha Schwendener, Beat is without doubt their definitive artistic statement.

Coming 20 years to the day of its original release, this is the first time this album has been available on vinyl in almost two decades, and the first ever U.S. vinyl release. (Was released here on Beggars Banquet, original copies very hard to find..)

The second album from New York City's Bowery Electric was released in late 1996, less than 15 months after their self-titled debut, but it found them having traveled light years musically in the interim, the group having seemingly decided to see how far they could take the guitar/ bass/ drums/ vocal setup into the atmosphere.

Every aspect of their approach had been refined and focused: squalling, distorted guitars had been transformed into hazy, sensual sheets; the live drums transmuted to sampled rhythms more in debt to the blossoming downtempo sound of the day; bass lines reduced to their most basic diagrams; vocals submerged to become one with the narcotized fog of the instruments; even the lyrics were reduced to a few minimal lines used sparingly so as not to overshadow the dynamic.

Beat is a lush and dense mantra of shadowy percussion, barely-there vocals and immersive drones that envelops the listener in an opiated blanket of sound.

quotes:

"Bowery Electric have made something utterly astonishing here. So deep, so wide, and somehow as intimate as a train crash. The first six tracks are just the most crushingly beautiful thing I've heard in 1997; the last five are even better. Good god, THIS IS IT." Melody Maker

"While cymbals shower down over the songs like a torrent of shattered glass, their austere beauty is never static. Ambience has rarely sounded so messy." Exclaim

A near-perfect mix of shifting dance beats, menacing electronic drones, analogue bleeps,
syncopated rhythms and ethereal vocals." Now UK

There is a moment on Sides, the new album from Richmond, Virginia-based duo Lean Year, in which a hospital room floor is filled with white chrysanthemums. This imagery, based on an opiate-induced hallucination experienced by vocalist Emilie Rex's mother as she recovered from surgery, is a perfect encapsulation of the band's second album: dreamlike and beautiful, yet burdened with cold, stark reality. Sides is a harrowing journey through realms of grief and memory, a meditation woven into a tapestry of synth pads, woodwinds, and Rex's instantly recognizable voice. The duo of Rex and Rick Alverson - who also works as a film director (The Mountain, Entertainment, The Comedy) - originally set out to write an album about conflict, but during the writing and recording process, they were confronted with a number of personal tragedies. Alverson lost both of his parents in rapid succession, Rex's mother received a cancer diagnosis, and the couple's beloved family dog, Orca, died. These events transformed the album into an exploration of loss - an attempt at processing the painful, complex, and private emotions that bubble to the surface when confronted with death. "We thought we'd do a concept album called Sides where we could reflect on all of the division in the world, and some in our own families, but then COVID transformed everything / everyone, and we suffered our own specific losses. The record became about loss and grief," Rex explains. "In this way, the title Sides was still appropriate: our individual grief and collective grief, the margins of before and after, the act and feeling of during and enduring. It felt like straddling a threshold between two opposing sides - the moment before conflict and the moment after it passes, life and death, the act of living and the memory of the act. Grief feels like a contention between what you knew and what you now know, and often both feel real and unreal at once." Sides - produced by Alverson alongside Erik Hall (In Tall Buildings) and featuring contributions from Elliot Bergman (Nomo, Wild Belle) and Joseph Shabason (Destroyer, The War on Drugs) - as a distinctly cinematic quality, perhaps due in part to Alverson's other career. Moments of jazz, slowcore, and dirgelike R&B find their way into the sorrowful, ambient suite, lulling the listener into a state of calm while the lyrics speak of ghosts, childhood, and mortality. Despite the gravity of the subject matter, Sides succeeds in mastering a balancing act between pathos and pop. Each song is indelible and haunting, with melodies that have the kind of broad appeal reminiscent of Karen Dalton, Aldous Harding, and FKA twigs.

Two years after the release of their last album "Wolves Among The Ashes", Svart Crown comes back with a sixth and new opus. The EP, called "Les Terres Brûlées" will be released as a coproduction between the band's label Nova Lux Production and Les Acteurs de l'Ombre Productions.

Just like a return to the basics, the five tracks that compose this EP form up a sulfuric halo between rage and transcendance. Recorded in several Southern France places and once again mixed by Francis Caste at Saint-Marthe studio, the organic, made for live production gives a suffocating warmth to the album's five pieces. Like a kind of epitaph, "Les Terres Brûlées" is a true abstract of
the band's 18 years of experience.

The first track to be revealed, "Digitalis Purpurea" is an astral journey through the inconscience limbo. A chaotic vision of its own death warrant, between dream and reality, where fire, opiates and sulfur smell coexist.

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

12 years after their self-title debut this is the "lost" second album from Coconuts (the NYC duo of Tim Evans and Jordan Redaelli). "Coconuts, as I have known them, cracking bunk PAs in NYC hovels, is simply inertia; steam-propelled on the hot guts of rock's past. They mainline into a legacy of pop obfuscation, in which sheer sonics and the sensuality of the guitar-as-tractor-beam blinds any sort of lyrical message or rock narrative. The sound is dire and low and vaguely menacing, like the pulse of an opiated Ritchie Valens slow dancing with the Dead C or the saucer-eyed paens of Japanese mopers The Jacks. And though the 'Nuts are lauded for their no-mind electric antic, their craft reveals a collective instinct honed over countless late nights of bleary deep listenings." - Daniel Lopatin / Oneohtrix Point Never // Also Available From Coconuts:

Credited as one of the leaders of the Bay Area thrash metal scene, Heathen released four studio albums in total, including their Victims Of Deception. Originally released in 1991 on the Roadrunner label, the album includes their cover version of Rainbow’s “Kill The King”. In support of the album, the band toured Europe with Sepultura and Sacred Reich.

This is the first time Victims Of Deception is available as a 2LP- set. The track “Hypnotized” features snippets from a speech by the infamous cult leader Jim Jones. Victims Of Deception is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on translucent yellow coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

Over the course of two EPs, two singles and a stripped-back
live album, Puma Blue has established himself as one of the
UK’s most vital new talents, quietly amassing over 50 million
streams in the process and selling out shows from London to LA
and Paris to Tokyo.
 His long-awaited debut album, ‘In Praise Of Shadows’, was a
delirious dreamland of soulful vocals, D'Angelo-ish guitars and
muted electronic beats. Its fourteen tracks are a contemplation
on “the balance of light and dark, the painful things you have to
heal from or accept, that bring you through to a better place,”
says the 25-year-old Puma Blue, real name Jacob Allen. “It's
about finding light in darkness and realizing that it’s what got me
here today.”
 Described by NME as “a brief moment of relief for those lost in
the darkness,” the album found his storytelling at its most
honest and vulnerable to date whilst his production reached
new heights, retaining its characteristic bedroom intimacy. Yet
for all the intimacy of his ‘voicemail-ballads’ on record, his songs
carry a different resonance in a live setting; a mix of
improvisation, in-the-moment escapism and the collective
power of an audience taking his music to new heights.
 ‘In Praise Of Shadows: B-Sides & Live Versions’ features
rarities and live recordings, mostly taken from rehearsals in
early 2021. With limited opportunities for people to hear the
album in a live setting thus far, this represents an intimate first
glimpse at the magic unique to the full band arrangements.
 This edition is completed by two new bedroom studio
recordings with new single ‘All I Need’ (a Radiohead cover)
perfectly extending the album’s small hours spirit, the raw
emotion of Puma Blue’s voice growing in tandem with the scale
of the initially skeletal production, and the previously unreleased
‘Postcard From Toyko’ exploring loneliness with brutal honesty
and a sparse acoustic atmosphere.
 Crystal clear LP in a deluxe clear PVC sleeve.

ave you ever been trippin' on Brandy? Well here's your chance to get down... deep down. Served by two kings in the industry who wish to remain unnamed.
Dropping the octaves and upping the opiates, the duo slow dance an R'n'B vocal through dewy pads and echoing perx, concocting a late night anthem for the club and the bedroom.

‘In Praise Of Shadows’ is a delirious dreamland of soulful
vocals, D’Angelo-ish guitars and muted electronic beats.
Its fourteen tracks are a contemplation on “the balance
of light and dark, the painful things you have to heal
from or accept, that bring you through to a better
place,” says the 25-year-old Puma Blue, real name Jacob
Allen. “It’s about finding light in darkness - and realising
that it’s what got me here today.”
Puma Blue’s nocturnal, soul-searching sound was born
from a decade in which the 25-year-old was plagued
with insomnia, “for literally a decade, I just couldn’t
sleep,” says the cult-acclaimed London
songwriter/producer. That certainly helps to explain the
hazy, late-night “voicemail ballads” of the early EP
releases that propelled him to prominence, 2017’s
‘Swum Baby’ and 2018’s ‘Blood Loss’ earning him a
reputation as affecting chronicler of unrequited love and
inner turmoil.
It’s an intimacy still present across ‘In Praise Of
Shadows’ but there’s also a new maturity and lucidity to
the way in which Allen deals with his demons and
celebrates beauty across his debut album, influenced no
doubt by his journey over the last two years in which a
blossoming romance has finally helped him to sleep
whilst a burgeoning career forced the previously
bedroom-bound songwriter out into the open, driving
him to find new perspectives on loss, love and
everything in-between.
2LP pressed on 180g milky clear vinyl (first pressing
only).

Old Dark House: Suspenseful cinematic ambience and subliminal rhythmic sorcery by Andrew Crawshaw and Corey J. Brewer. Andrew Crawshaw (aka Meridian Arc) and Corey J. Brewer have come together to make music as Old Dark House. This is great news, as these Seattle musicians have proved themselves to be masters of suspenseful cinematic ambience and subliminal rhythmic sorcery. Crawshaw has hosted the Depths night at Substation, at which he and other musicians create new soundtracks for cult-classic films. Brewer famously crafted an alternate score for Stanley Kubrick's The Shining, which he performed at Northwest Film Forum in 2017. As Old Dark House, the duo have recorded their debut album, Welcome Home, with another excellent film-music head, Erik Blood, mixing. Welcome Home's 11 tracks combine Crawshaw's penchant for expansive yet intimate synthscapes and Brewer's mastery of morose songcraft. The latter's voice pitches somewhere between Nick Cave and Edwyn Collins, adding a lugubrious luster to Old Dark House's midnight-blue atmospheres and tension-building rhythms. "Through the Trees" is perhaps the record's most chilling and dramatic moment. The song at once drifts and stomps ominously, as Brewer sings like an opiated Chris Isaak, haloed by a synth motif of vaguely Eastern-sounding grandeur. _ Dave Segal

One year after its release, Quartet Series proudly presents the remix EP of Nachtbraker's successful debut album When You Find a Stranger in the Alps. A collection of remixes by some serious talent. These three producers were carefully selected by Nachtbraker because of their impeccable reputation and ability to bring something unique to the world of music.

Humble Danish maestro Central (Help, Dekmantel) flips "Flambo" into a Jori Hulkkonen'esque summer anthem with a highly addictive bassline. Preacher of wonkiness Frits Wentink (Wolf, Heist, Bobby Donny) took "LOL" and brought it some serious keys on a solid breakbeat while maintaining its jolly character. Flipping the record, Nachtbraker brings us the evolution of "Just Doing My Thang" turning it into a quirky dance floor tune whilst also showcasing his ear for detail. Up and coming talent Nemo Vachez (Forest Ill, Opia Records, Rakya) dives deep into "Horsepony" as if he's cruising the depths of a rainforest in a submarine. His surreal dub mix is the perfect final track of this fine piece of wax