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Though their album was cut in two days over the course of 2 eight hour sessions their arrangements shine through what was a scattered recording session. "We really worked hard in the studio even though we didn't have enough time to do all the things we wanted to do with music," bassist Robb Murphy remembers. "We were pretty excited. We just had no experience with that sort of thing. We had heard things but never had any experience.

We were really babes in the woods. It was a terrific experience looking back on it. It was really a hell of a lot of fun, we loved the idea of being able to overdub even though we didn't get to do too much of that, it was still fun. That was pretty high tech in those days, being able to lay down a couple of tracks with your voice." guitarist Mike Barnes recalls.

Similar to the Bosstown sound (Orpheus, Ultimate Spinach), Tiffany Shade lean towards harmony-driven vocals that combine their clever pop sensibilities with a versatile showcase of keys, organ, and scintillescent guitars. After their album's release in '68, they had the opportunity to open for Big Brother & Holding Co., but because of poor sales (and like many Mainstream artists) the band didn't last and went their separate ways in '69.

As an organism, Blood circa Loving You Backwards, was a six piece. Tim O'Brien is the lyric writer, but the song writing and arrangement is a painstakingly collaborative process in which the band aims for democracy over swiftness.

The record also features the band's first major work with the producer Daniel Enrique Howard, whom the band recorded with at his studio in Brooklyn. Howard helped guide Blood into this new sonic territory. It is not a bedroom project, but instead fully realized, somehow sounding both intimate like Liz Harris' Grouper feels intimate and totally vast in the way that a Talk Talk record feels vast. It's in the same universe as Ought in its earlier iterations.

"The Course of the Inevitable 3: Pieces of My Pain" marks a triumphant return for rapper Lloyd Banks, as he delves deep into the intricacies of his life and experiences, unveiling raw emotions and profound wisdom. In this highly anticipated album, Banks collaborates with legendary artists such as Method Man, Cormega, 38 Spesh, Vado, Dave East, and Tony Yayo, creating a powerful narrative that resonates with listeners.



In this musical journey, Banks weaves together a compelling storyline, sharing pieces of his own pain and struggles, inviting listeners to connect with his authenticity. With Method Man's signature lyrical prowess, Cormega's poetic finesse, and the raw energy of 38 Spesh, the album boasts a stellar lineup of features that enhance its impact.



Banks' sharp lyricism and introspective storytelling shine throughout the album, exploring themes of resilience, triumph over adversity, and the complexities of life. Each track serves as a piece of his soul, revealing layers of vulnerability and strength. With the collaborative efforts of his fellow artists, "The Course of the Inevitable 3: Pieces of My Pain" delivers an immersive and powerful listening experience, solidifying Lloyd Banks' position as a master in the rap game and the one and only Punch Line King.

Celebrating a decade of hip-hop excellence with the 10th Anniversary Vinyl Reissue of Statik Selektah's groundbreaking album, Extended Play. Pressed onto high-quality vinyl and housed in a silver laminated jacket, this limited edition reissue pays homage to the timeless collaboration between the legendary producer and some of the finest wordsmiths in the game.

Extended Play showcases the essence of authentic hip-hop, seamlessly blending old-school vibes with innovative production. Featuring an all-star lineup of rap luminaries, including Action Bronson, Mac Miller, Joey Bada$$, Sean Price, Raekwon, Black Thought, Prodigy, Evidence, Termanology, Posdnous of De La Soul and Talib Kweli amongs several others, this album is a masterclass in lyrical prowess and beatsmithing finesse.

Immerse yourself in the artistry of Statik Selektah as he crafts intricate beats that serve as the canvas for the lyrical dexterity of hip-hop's finest. Each track is a testament to the genre's evolution, capturing the essence of both its roots and its future. From the gritty realism of Sean Price's verses to the introspective musings of Mac Miller, every moment on this album is a revelation.

This commemorative vinyl reissue not only offers listeners a chance to experience the album in its purest form but also provides a glimpse into the collaborative spirit that defines hip-hop culture. The album cover artwork has been meticulously restored and printed onto a silver laminated jacket. Join us in celebrating the legacy of Extended Play and the everlasting impact of Statik Selektah's musical vision!

Lloyd Banks is gearing up for the release of The Course Of The Inevitable, his first studio album in over a decade. Having previously set the stage with a few cinematic teaser trailers and the album cover, Banks has now come forward to confirm the official release date for the upcoming project, as well as the tracklist and guest appearances to be expected.

For the most part, Banks will be flying solo on COTI, with only five of the eighteen tracks including featured artists. On that front, we're looking at appearances from Roc Marci, Benny The Butcher, Styles P, Sy Ari Da Kid, and Vado. Other than that, however, the stage is largely set for the Punchline King, who will likely have much to say on his fourth studio album.

Mary Lattimore and Walt McClements are two of contemporary music"s most renowned innovators. Each has managed to expand the perception of their instrument"s capabilities. Lattimore inventive harp processing and looping has brought the instrument to a new audience. Her prolific run of celestial solo albums and evocative film scores have redefined the instrument in the modern consciousness. Her genre-agnostic collaborations include work with Kurt Vile, Steve Gunn, Jeff Zeigler, Meg Baird, and Thurston Moore. McClements, who tours as a member of Weyes Blood, is an acclaimed composer in his own right, sculpting glacial atmospherics from the accordion. The Los Angeles based duo became quick friends on overlapping tours, sharing both a drive to push the sonic possibilities of their instruments and roots in North Carolina. Mary Lattimore and Walt McClements debut collaboration Rain on the Road blossomed out of that time spent on the road together, capturing the liminal existence of touring life in deeply cinematic compositions. Recorded in the cozy setting of McClements" apartment during a rainy December in LA, Rain on the Road unfurls as a series of sonic vignettes, rolling landscapes hewn from longform improvisations for harp and accordion. Embellished with additional instrumentation such as the shimmering constellations of hand bells on "Stolen Bells" that glisten like lights on wet pavement, or the stately piano figures on "The Top of Thomas Street"; their pastoral pieces manage to paint vivid images.

Mary Lattimore and Walt McClements are two of contemporary music"s most renowned innovators. Each has managed to expand the perception of their instrument"s capabilities. Lattimore inventive harp processing and looping has brought the instrument to a new audience. Her prolific run of celestial solo albums and evocative film scores have redefined the instrument in the modern consciousness. Her genre-agnostic collaborations include work with Kurt Vile, Steve Gunn, Jeff Zeigler, Meg Baird, and Thurston Moore. McClements, who tours as a member of Weyes Blood, is an acclaimed composer in his own right, sculpting glacial atmospherics from the accordion. The Los Angeles based duo became quick friends on overlapping tours, sharing both a drive to push the sonic possibilities of their instruments and roots in North Carolina. Mary Lattimore and Walt McClements debut collaboration Rain on the Road blossomed out of that time spent on the road together, capturing the liminal existence of touring life in deeply cinematic compositions. Recorded in the cozy setting of McClements" apartment during a rainy December in LA, Rain on the Road unfurls as a series of sonic vignettes, rolling landscapes hewn from longform improvisations for harp and accordion. Embellished with additional instrumentation such as the shimmering constellations of hand bells on "Stolen Bells" that glisten like lights on wet pavement, or the stately piano figures on "The Top of Thomas Street"; their pastoral pieces manage to paint vivid images.

Originally released on tape by SicSic in 2014, Aprilnacht commemorates a decade of music from Brannten Schnüre and marked the spring in a tetralogy of albums about the four seasons when it came out. Back then the Würzburg-based project consisted solely of Christian Schoppik, who later welcomed Katie Rich to take over the vocals. He used to perform as Agnes Beil, but dropped the name when, while making this album realized his music was becoming "much gentler and more fragile". Aprilnacht already captured the particular musical ideas that Schoppik would thoroughly keep exploring, delving deeper and deeper into the use and manipulation of samplers from sources so diverging as to wander between the five continents to post-war German family television and cult cinema. Heir of the ritualistic intensity of Coil, of the intricate sampler assemblies of Ghédalia Tazartès', and of the dusty, dismal old ballads from around the world, Brannten Schnüre manages to make these paths cross in a territory that is as inherent as it is uncanny; sieged by the past and intimate as a hearth. An organic approach to folk, ambient, and sound collage, where ethereal yet thoroughly textured pieces coalesce in enthralling, delicate, and innermost musical rituals.

The album cover paintings reveal the temper: dreary old towns where shadows come to dim the slow passage of crepuscular colors, a soft area of reanimation where wind and light come close and foresee the night of spring. Aprilnacht was inspired by the stories of German philosopher and writer Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr, whose work exhaustively examines the conflict between paganism and Christianity, safeguarding myth in a way that Schoppik describes as boldly modern, humorous and unpredictable in its variations of the Germanic folklore motifs. "I wanted to do the same with the music," he states, and the music here could as well be suitable for a night when household deities welcome wandering will-o'-the-wisps, water nymphs, and gyrovagues to discuss Perchta's leadership of The Wild Hunt, but this album is not a folk tale, it's not an elegy to worlds already gone, hidden in years; it's an intersection of routes that open mysteriously before our ears like a congregation of vapors. Aprilnacht is a gathering of voices; "There are too many children, and none of them keeps quiet," reads the last verse of «Requiem für eine Ringelnatter.»

Sensuality drips over the music to celebrate both the voluptuousness and tragic quality of nature; "It's raining on me, urine from your flowers," Schoppik sings in «Urin deiner Blüten» and later on, faced with a snake's erotic features, as if he wanted to be embraced by it: "Your quick, sharp tongue and your warm venom; that's what the pond is missing." Orality is where this profusion of contents thrives. When the voices get closer and condense, the words reveal the saliva employed to pronounce them; we feel the mouth and the tongue, but when breath envelops them in sorrow and softens their edges, they sound distant, diffused in the atmosphere, letting go of the body that held them. These two vocal facets oscillate permanently and interact naturally with the fertile assembly of samplers and instruments that develop throughout the album, which condense and disperse impersonating each other, interweaving to search for a specific syntax. Tangled whisperings of enigmatic phrases, timid voices that stick out to check the scene but hide away quickly, shivering trance chants and monastic ambiances, distant screams and clamors in between chaos and warfare swirl until bursting into subtle songs where even Mother Mary comes forth softly. Soothed by foggy atmospheres and crackling punctuations, these voices shape a vulnerable crowd, an occasion of fragility. Along this swarm of songs thrown into thin air, accordions sound like heavy-breathing lungs; clarinets sigh like curtains shaking; violin solos wander around like bees; Gjallarhorns cries distend like fleeing cattle; glockenspiels evoke remote music boxes and inherited toys; backward emanations emerge like slender waves retreating. On the banks of stretching loops and ember textures is where the songs slowly nest, collecting the words to find their tone.

A poem by Jorge Teillier says, "To talk with the dead you have to choose words that they recognize as easily as their hands recognized the fur of their dogs in the dark. To talk with the dead you have to know how to wait: they are fearful like the first steps of a child. But if we are patient one day they will answer us with a flame that suddenly revives in the fireplace." This may be Brannten Schnüre's main purpose: To find the voice to speak to those of whom we were a vision. Not in mourning, but acknowledging the obscure and volatile nature of spring's regenerative force, searching for the treasure of balance, as evidenced in the lyrics of «Requiem für ein Schwalbennest,» "Its nest was destroyed so many times before it was finished, and despite that, the shallow builds as if it is infatuated." The same idea is here in the words of Schmid Noerr, who made poetry an act of resistance to the horror of Nazism; "Since having seen the ability of a brilliant spirit to die, with a calm mouth that everyone saw, health is true again and we affirm it, even if rivers of blood flow." And as we call for the dusk's kindness, waiting to return home and eat with our kin by the stove, our ears become used to the games of the night. We feel like we're rowing on wetlands, while the "moon musick" keeps us vigilant against the slightest movement of water or sweet moan because eeriness here is imperative for survival. Do not succumb to the insipid howl of death, for nothing may last but mutability. You see, the rock has moved a little during the night; the rest is just wind fleeing from the void.

London-based four-piece Adult Jazz announce their first full-length album in a decade, So Sorry So Slow, out 26 April 2024 via Spare Thought. Alongside the announcement comes lovesick new single ‘Suffer One’ featuring Owen Pallett, a cautious excavation of self and sexuality, clambering across a gorgeously shapeshifting, filmic five-minutes.

Containing some of the band’s most abrasive but gentle, beautiful and melismatic work to date, So Sorry So Slow has many defining characteristics: romance, panic, devotion and remorse, threaded together by an intentionally laser-focused love. It’s deeply personal, bruised and candid in its expressions of tenderness, and deeply pained in its concurrent reflections of ecological regret. Across its hour-long runtime, a delicate, frenetic energy and glacial heaviness coexist, the band pitting those paces against one another. In their richly experimental timbre, dancing strings and fluttering falsettos prang against a bed of brass drones like a wounded bird.

“We started writing in 2017 and began recording in 2018,” says vocalist Harry Burgess. “We genuinely thought it might be finished in 2018! But things kept developing and, having resolutely not struck while the iron was hot, there was no real external push to rush things after that, so we just kept letting things shift and unfold until it felt right. Listening back to my voice notes it’s nice to notice that there are fragments of ideas from the whole period 2017-2023 which have shaped the record.”

Recorded in bursts at studios across London and in the band members’ flats, at Konk, on the Isle of Wight and in Sussex, So Sorry is unambiguous in its evolution. Sonically, there are sparks of the arrhythmic brightness that afforded the band’s critically acclaimed debut album Gist Is its cult adoration, for fans of Arthur Russell and Meredith Monk, but with a blossoming, melancholic darkness often overhead. Piano sprees and luscious string sections appear like low-hanging stars on a night-time drive, whilst plunging vocal distortions and humming brass loops resurrect heavy limbs in a bad dream.

“I usually have objects as kind of totems for ideas,” explains Burgess. “The album initially started out to do with performance… the totem was a head mic, one of the subtle skin-tone ones, discreet on the forehead of a West End star. A number of the first songs in their original forms were almost musical theatre piano ballads. I think that was really a device to write about my life as the ‘main character’ (pre internet-speak reframing): regrets about romance, relationships - unsustainable relationships with the self and others.”

“However, once we started writing, the ideas about unsustainable personal relationships, loving unevenly and heartbreak conflated with a more expressly ecological regret. Like contending with big feelings of loss, endings, beauty, desolation, and with how much joy the earth contains in it. Feeling so much gratitude bound up in waves of sadness. Maybe witnessing a slow-motion goodbye to all that, or its last gasps. I love the earth and the life it supports so much. I love how ecosystems fit together - even the brutal stuff. It may be basic to say, but now is the time to be laser focused on that love. I was thinking about human centrality on earth, us as the ‘main character’, the way that is served by faith and romanticism, and the subsequent disingenuous understandings of our position in the ecosystem, as only stewards somehow, rather than subjects. The totems at this point: a herald’s horn, lorry inner tubes, archaeological tools. I guess from doom, industry, history respectively.”

“Now I would say the record is about gripping. Totems being: crampons, rope, drips, desalination equipment, accruing various survival tech. I think gripping sums up both of the threads. There’s the emotionally correct clinging to the earth that is the substrate of everything we value, or the delusional clinging to our imagined dominant position. But also the practical, technological aspects of creating a sustainable relationship, of remaining here. Then I think of romance again.”

So Sorry So Slow comes out 26th April 2024 on Spare Thought, mixed by Fabian Prynn at 4AD Studios and mastered by Alex Wharton at Abbey Road.

Adult Jazz is Harry Burgess, Tim Slater, Steven Wells and Tom Howe.

Read any article or comment thread about the Seattle noise-rock outfit GREAT FALLS and you're likely to see descriptors like cathartic, heavy, crushing, and unhinged. Maybe even psychotic. And sure, those are all apt: For over a decade, vocalist/guitarist Demian Johnston and bassist Shane Mehling (who also played together in the early-2000s noisecore band PLAYING ENEMY and the experimental duo HEMINGWAY) have honed their sludgy, overwhelmingly intense brand of heaviness, punctuated by delectably discordant riffs, terrifyingly low, thwacking bass lines, and mesmerizingly tight percussion. In the live setting, too, they’re notorious for a stage presence that is so aggressively confrontational and menacing that Mehling once broke his own arm mid-set.

But the most striking aspect of GREAT FALLS, setting them apart from the murky sea of sludge metal and AmRep-inspired noise-rock bands, is their ability to paint a deeply, utterly human story through an all-out assault on the senses: an art the band has perfected on their fourth full-length album OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN, out September 15 via NEUROT RECORDINGS.

The album is not only their NEUROT debut, but also the first LP featuring drummer Nickolis Parks (GAYTHEIST, BASTARD FEAST), who joined the band prior to the release of their exhilarating, cacophonous 2023 EP,FUNNY WHAT SURVIVES.

OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN takes us on a bleak, purgative journey through a separation–a snapshot of the turmoil and indecision that occurs after the initial realization of someone's misery, and before the ultimate decision to end a decades-long partnership. From the foreboding intro riffs of “DRAGGED HOME ALIVE” to the end of the 13-minute closer “THROWN AGAINST THE WAVES,” its eight tracks explore the thoughts that come up when a person is staring down the barrel of blowing up their life: How did this happen? Is it too late for a new life? Will the kid be OK? What will make me happier: familiar torment or unknown freedom?

The opening line of Emily Dickinson’s short poem ‘‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers’ inspired the central image of Emily Barker’s new single ‘Feathered Thing’, written while she navigated cumulative grief.

When Barker was first introduced to producer Luke Potashnick (Gabrielle Aplin, Jack Savoretti, Katie Melua) in May 2022, she brought with her a full album’s worth of songs. But after visiting Potashnick’s storied studio, The Wool Hall and hearing his ambitious production ideas, she was inspired to write one more song.

“I also needed to process some heavy news” she comments. Barker and her husband Lukas Drinkwater had been trying to start a family. Following a couple of failed IVF cycles (and other “starts that we’d lost”), they investigated adoption and had decided to relocate to Australia to be closer to Barker’s family.

“It felt like we couldn’t work out what we wanted, but we finally reached a point where we both felt at peace with not having kids,” Barker recalls. “It had been an incredibly intense time, coinciding with a house move and the pandemic.”

And then Barker found she was pregnant. “We’d done all these things to try to make it happen, and then it happened naturally (and against all biological odds). Having previously navigated losses throughout our pregnancy journey, we now had to get our heads around what having this new person in our lives might look like - emotionally and practically.”

Soon after work began on the album, Barker had a miscarriage.

“Songwriting has always been a way of processing throughout my life.” Barker reveals how the new song came quickly as she sat at her piano at home. She shared an early version with Potashnick and remembers him politely asking, “Do you mind telling me what this is about?”

“I think I’d left it too abstract, initially,” she reflects. “It was difficult to open up about the miscarriage, but Luke was very supportive and encouraged me to dig a little deeper without necessarily being specific. I revisited the lyrics, and the result is much stronger.”

“I went to the burnt-out woods/ A tourist with some damaged goods/ Remembered how the trees withstood fires before…”

“The opening line is a metaphor for knowing that I’ll get through this,” Barker clarifies. “It’s about recovery and hope, allowing yourself both the space to grieve and permission to move on”. But Barker’s optimism is never misplaced – she knows the imprint of imagined futures and lost children are carried in hearts and minds forever:

“It’s so hard to let go, wanted to know wanted to know you …”

“I think that it's important to share and normalise these stories, which are all too common, yet not openly spoken about. People hide their pain and don’t want to burden friends and family. I think behind all this anguish, there’s a deep, often untold story.”

Now that Barker is settled back in Western Australia, she’s embracing being an auntie. “I’ve got three younger siblings over here who I’m close to, and they all have kids,” she enthuses. “I look after my brother's kids, aged two and five, one morning a week.”

Recorded - along with the entirety of the new album - at The Wool Hall, ‘Feathered Thing’ begins gently, with oscillating piano and distant drums, until the arrangement gradually transforms into an instrumental dervish of vibrant strings, bass drones and cymbal crashes. Throughout, Barker’s vocals float tantalisingly like a slipstreaming feather.

Watch the video, filmed at The Wool Hall here. The Wool Hall is a studio in Beckington, Somerset, set up by Tears for Fears in the 1980s and used by artists including The Smiths, Pretenders, Joni Mitchell and many more.

Emily Barker is an award-winning singer-songwriter, best known as the writer and performer of the theme to the hugely successful BBC crime drama ‘Wallander’ starring Kenneth Branagh.

Her last album, 2020's ‘A Dark Murmuration of Words’, was produced by Greg Freeman and recorded at StudiOwz, a converted chapel in the Welsh countryside. Lyrically probing, by turns both dark and optimistic, Barker searches for meaning through the deafening clamour of fake news and algorithmically filtered conversation, delivering a timely exploration of the grand themes of our age. It garnered widespread acclaim, with Uncut calling it “…a kind of Australian equivalent of PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake”.

Barker has released music and toured as a solo artist as well as with various bands and collaborations, most notably her long association with Frank Turner, and has written for TV and film, including composing the soundtrack for Jake Gavin’s lauded debut feature ‘Hector’ starring Peter Mullan and Keith Allen.

‘Fragile as Humans’ is scheduled for release on May 3rd 2024 through Everyone Sang/Kartel Music Group. The album will also feature earlier singles: the vast, cinematic ‘Wild to be Sharing This Moment’ and the meditative, crestfallen ‘Loneliness’.

Following the force of their introductory singles 'Tabernacl' and 'St Agatha', the band return with an invitation to explore their landscape of violent poetry and gothic propulsion to the fullest extent yet. Prepare to be lulled under their spell once more with the slow-burn of forerunning single, 'Remoter Heaven'.

Produced by long-time collaborator Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard's Tom Rees. It begins in a dream state of hypnotic repetition that mounts in intensity, with vocalist Jack Shephard presiding over it all with his distinctive, poetic drawl. His protagonist is revisiting a memory of the pain inflicted by a thorn as a child; "I was awake with feeling", he confesses, before the song takes on the momentum that feels like a triumph over the numbness attendant to adulthood.

Of the track, Shephard shares: "I liked the idea of writing a very simple narrative to a big, epic song - something as modest as the story of a child playing in some flowers and then bursting into tears when a thorn pricks their leg. The words are an ode to that sensitivity we embrace when we are young. Then, when we become adults, we insist on subjugating all of that wonderful, absurd rage."

'Remoter Heaven' follows on from 'Tabernacl' and 'St Agatha' which earned Slate rave write-ups and support from publications including NME, CLASH, So Young, DIY, Buzz Magazine, The Most Radicalist and more, as well as early radio plays from the likes of Huw Stephens and Steve Lamacq on BBC 6Music, Matt Wilkinson on Apple Music 1, John Kennedy on Radio X and Jack Saunders on BBC Radio 1.

There was a long time I considered Raymond Richards the ultimate secret weapon. There were sounds he could make that other people just couldn’t. Pure, whole, yet complex sounds. The pedal steel is an extremely niche instrument outside of its Country confines, but its sheer and transcendent depth has never failed to floor me. Raymond’s ear for implementing the steel into literally 'anything' has always been uncanny. After decades of being savvy to his work ethic, multi-faceted studio skills and overall sense of musical honesty, it became a priority for me to channel some of this into narratives through the ESP Institute and get his stories told. Without further recounting the history and trajectory of our musical relationship (see the press release for 2020’s critically-acclaimed album 'The Lost Art Of Wandering'), I can whole-heartedly confirm this sophomore release, 'Sand Paintings', opens an even wider door into Raymond’s visceral, contemplative world. The cast of players has elaborated to include Calexico’s John Convertino on drums and percussion, a bevy of eccentric stringed instruments and even a hint of brass to collectively stratify context for the pedal steel. Through diversifying the timbral palette, we invite an increased soundstage acuity but also reveal untapped wells of emotion for the listener, perhaps even testing cultural literacies. One foot remains in our established ambient realm, while the other steps toward grand cinematic gestures, and despite the dense, insurmountable emotion in these songs, there is a stoic singularity, like a lonesome cowboy pulling up his boot straps to endure another day. 'Badwater Basin' opens with courage, an enormous chord evoking Raymond’s image of “hard dawn”, but in navigating through the dramatic depictions of 'Monument Valley', 'Saguaro' and 'Deer On Hwy 80', we grapple with a cloaked vulnerability—weathered by the elements, beaten down and alone, yet still madly in love with the world. —Lovefingers

You get older, you have a family, and you start to slow down-that's how things are supposed to go, right? Not for Montreal band Corridor, who have returned on their fourth album, Mimi, with a sound and style that's more widescreen and expansive than anything that's preceded it. The follow-up to 2019's Junior is a huge step forward for the band, as the members themselves have undergone the type of personal changes that accompany the passage of time; even as these eight songs reflect a newfound and contemplative maturity, however, Corridor are branching out more than ever with richly detailed music, resulting in a record that feels like a fresh break for a band that's already established themselves as forward-thinkers. Mimi immediately recalls the best of the best when it comes to indie rock-Deerhunter's silvery atmospherics immediately come to mind, as well as the spiky effervescence of classic post-punk-but despite these easy comparisons, Corridor remain impossible to pin down from song to song, which makes Mimi all the more thrilling as a listen. "The goal was to work differently, which is the goal we have every time we work on a new album-to build something in a new way," Robert explains. "This time, we took our time." And so in the summer of 2020, Corridor's members-Robert, vocalist/bassist Dominic Berthiaume, drummer Julien Bakvis, and multi-instrumentalist Samuel Gougoux-holed away in a cottage to engage in the sort of creative experimentation that would lead to Mimi's ultimate creation. Corridor tinkered with the songs' raw parts digitally and remotely over the next few years, with co-producer Joojoo Ashworth (Dummy, Automatic) lending their own specific talents in the theoretical booth. The process was a byproduct of not having access to their rehearsal space due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but also a result of the four-piece leaning harder into incorporating electronic textures than on previous records. "For a long time, we identified as a guitar-oriented band, and the goal of making this whole record was trying to get away from that," Berthiaume states. Berthiaume also describes Mimi as a record about "getting older" and "figuring out new parts of life"-but despite any claims of transitional growing pains from the band, Mimi is a record bursting with new energy and life, a vibrance that's owed in no small part to Gougoux joining the band full-time after pitching in on live performances in the past. "I come more from a background of electronic music, so it was nice to involve that with the band more," he explains, and Mimi contains a distinct rhythmic pulse reminiscent of classic era-post-punk's own melding of dance and rock textures. Over bright, chiming guitars and ascending synths, Robert addresses his looming mortality on "Mourir Demain": "I wrote it when my girlfriend and I were shopping for life insurance," he laughs. With our little daughter growing up, we also considered making our will. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, from now on I'm slowly starting to plan my death." Don't mistake this as music about dead ends, though, as Mimi embraces and champions unfettered creativity while paving a way for Corridor's own bright future. "We just focused on making a record that sounded the way we wanted," Gougoux exclaims while discussing the band's aims. "There were no limitations when it came to what was possible."

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

Red Vinyl

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

Neon Green Vinyl

Idealism Forever is the reissue of Digitalism's genre defining debut studio album from 2007. Now it will be released as a remastered 3 LP set with 2 x 12 " on coloured vinyl and 1 x 12" LP on etched vinyl with bonus tracks, a poster, spot lacquer paint, as a limited edition. The original album double LP is sold out for years.
To date the album tracks have been used in numerous games and commercials. They have been sampled and used in new song interpretations all around the world. The songs have millions of streams over the different platforms and never lost their appeal. The new analogue master of the album shows the songs in their best outfit and the bonus material, which originally was recorded while making the album back in the days, have never been heard before.

Melbourne/Naarm-based musician and curator Rama Parwata, known for being the backbone drummer in bands such as Kilat, Whitehorse and Rinuwat, releases his second major solo album titled ‘Ceases’ on Cassauna/Important Records.

Parwata's gripping new electro-acoustic work is a sonic exploration within the realms of post-free-jazz and experimental electronics. At its core, ‘Ceases’ navigates the liminal spaces between rhythm and noise, structure and chaos. The album traverses a vast emotional and conceptual landscape, touching upon themes of impermanence, transformation, and the cyclical nature of existence.

At the forefront of the album is Parwata's emotive compositional and performative approach, which serves as both anchor and catalyst for the album's journey. The percussion performance is cymbal heavy accompanied by deeply meditative drones and slow moving melodies. The wash of sound touches on a spiritualism akin to Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme Part 4: Psalm”, albeit with a modern electronic vision á la Tim Hecker. With a keen sense of textural intricacy Parwata favours the emotional expression of electro-acoustic composition, weaving complex poly-textures that ebb and flow with hypnotic, prayer-like intensity. Each performative gesture creates a visceral immediacy that draws the listener deeper into the celestial, otherworldly sonic framework.

The diverse array of electronic elements, meticulously crafted and seamlessly integrated into the fabric of the album are a testament of Parwata’s capacity for acousmatic composition. From pulsating synthesizers to glitched-out samples, the electronic timbres in "Ceases" serve as both sonic embellishments and structural foundations, blurring the boundaries between organic and synthetic, acoustic and digital. Honing in on the electronics, a listener could be convinced they were hearing anything from spiritual-jazz, 90s rave, dungeon synth or doom. Through judicious composition, Parwata imbues each sound with a sense of transcendental allure and paints a soundworld that has a distinct ‘outerness’. At times the narrative is pointedly bleak but over a few passages the sonic language often bends toward rejuvenation; finding respite in cadence. The title itself suggests a sense of cessation, of endings and beginnings intertwined—a motif that reverberates throughout the album.

Schema Records presents “Riviera”, the new album by Toco, one of the Milan-based label’s top artists with over 100 million digital streams, is finally released on 19 April 2024. “Riviera” pays tribute to the places where Toco grew up, and is the aesthetic synthesis of Toco’s varied songwriting, able to create true musical mosaics that mix pop lightness, poetic lyricism, desire, joy and pain. Mainly inspired by the tradition of samba and bossa nova, and contaminated with jazz, funk, pop and rock, the album alternates light and shadow in a balanced chiaroscuro enriched by friend and musical partner Stefano “S-Tone Inc.”


Tirone’s production. Anticipated by a series of singles that outlined its various facets and musical influences, Toco’s new album “Riviera” is finally released on 19 April 2024; ten years have passed since “Memoria”, filled with various collaborations and dedicated to this record itself, carefully curated in production and arrangements down to the smallest detail; this has been made possible thanks also to the presence of a large lineup of guests, including Toco’s labelmate Gianluca Petrella for the first time ever. The album’s title is a tribute to two places very dear to Toco: Riviera is the neighborhood in São Paulo where he spent his childhood, while Riviera Ligure is where he lived for a long time in Italy: two opposite shores and cultures that turned out to be fundamental in the artist’s formation.


“Riviera” is the aesthetic synthesis of Toco’s varied songwriting, able to create true musical mosaics that mix pop lightness, poetic lyricism, desire, joy and pain. Mainly inspired by the tradition of samba and bossa nova, and contaminated with jazz, funk, pop and rock, the al¬bum alternates light and shadow in a balanced chiaroscuro enriched by friend and musical partner Stefano “S-Tone Inc.” Tirone’s production. This collaboration further consolidates the duo’s fellowship that brush¬es magical sonorities on the different themes delivered. An excellent comeback!

Bite Down, the Merge Records debut of Rosali, finds acclaimed songwriter and guitarist Rosali Middleman in the midst of transition. Written after moving to North Carolina from her longtime home of Philadelphia, Bite Down is a searching, hungry record by an artist who is resolved to bite down on life, in all its horror and joy. She is joined here by Mowed Sound_David Nance (bass, guitar), James Schroeder (guitar, synth), Kevin Donahue (drums, percussion)_and in studio by Destroyer collaborator Ted Bois (keys). Bite Down is Rosali's second album working with Mowed Sound, and there is urgency and ambition in their collaboration_a band pushing each other not just to expand on what they've already done together, but to break through into altogether new territory. Among those joining Rosali and her band there is Dan Bejar of Destroyer, who waxes poetically on where she's been, where she's going, and how thrilling Bite Down is to experience: It's hard to talk about Rosali's music. Songs that reach outward like this, but then constantly disarm with their intimacy. What do you call such inner searching that is hellbent on rollicking? Songs that long for a sense of peace and songs that want romance, all on equal footing in the same plot of earth? Performed wild, but always centered around the incredible lyrical calm that is Rosali's voice. Bite Down makes me think about singers and bands that throw themselves hard into the storm, the way the Rosali quartet does. (Jim captures the tone of this perfectly, again!) The calm of her voice over top of the band's raging_it is the emblem of songs that live to put themselves in harm's way. But it's not harm. It's just that you have to play hard to get at these goods. The calm of Rosali's voice, the straight talk of her inner search vs. the wildness of the band, the sonic storm she rides in on. That's their sound. The Mowed Sound. It's hard to talk about these last couple Rosali albums without talking about them. They play free and wild and relentlessly melodious. They rip and create space and fill it up with what seems like reckless abandon, but listen carefully or listen for a while and you'll find them paying real close attention to each other and exactly what the song demands. Maybe Fairport did this, maybe VU. It's a strange telepathic brew. Breezier songs like "On Tonight" and "Rewind" sound like they've fought their way to get to that sense of ease. Maybe that's the Mowed Sound "sound"_hard-won ease. Then add to that Ted Bois' patented Rhodes sleaze (see sinuous title track "Bite Down") steering the record into late-night corners; the incredible "Hills on Fire" (maybe the centerpiece of the album), the guitar-ripping and the singing taking turns in reaching new levels of intimacy. It feels listened-in on, exposed and invented on the spot. It is also simply a staggeringly beautiful song. There are a few of those on the album. In contrast, "My Kind" is a raucous, hand-delivered classic; the band throws tables over. For the most part, this is a moodier record than No Medium. It has the same sound of "I've traveled through fire to deliver you these songs," but it is also quieter, more nocturnal. The quiet dread of staring down an open road, and the excitement of that. By the final track, "May It Be on Offer," it is the prayer uttered as you hand yourself over to the world.

4 track 7” on green vinyl . Individual hand painted sleeves. Limited to 500 copies
worldwide. Includes poster.
Part of the Optic Sevens 5.0 Reissue Series.
Originally released in 1986 on Australian label Voyeur Records.
This is the first time that the single has been released in the UK.
Even As We Speak is an indie band from Sydney, Australia. Formed in the mid 1980s, founding members Matthew Love (guitar, banjo, vocals) and Mary Wyer (vocals, guitar) were later joined by Rob Irwin (bass) Anita Rayner (drums, banjo, mandolin), Julian Knowles (guitar, keyboards, production), and Paul Clarke (guitar, vocals.)
After a series of vinyl releases on Australian independent labels including Phantom Records, and success on the Australian indie scene, they came to the attention of BBC Radio 1 DJ John Peel who started to play the band’s ‘Goes So Slow’ Phantom Records release on his show. This brought them to the attention of UK audiences and began a relationship with UK indie label Sarah Records.
The band released several singles and an album on Sarah Records, three of which reached the Top 5 of the Melody Maker and New Musical Express UK independent music charts in 1992 and 1993.

Available on ltd edition Eco mix vinyl, with only 250 copies pressed. Includes download.

We’re delighted to bring you the latest full length from London psych heads The Confederate Dead.

‘As an artist, one of the most extraordinary gifts is the ability to convert life's experiences and emotions into music, transmuting pain into beauty, tragedy into art. With our latest album, 'Flamingo', we embarked on this creative journey. The inception of this project dates back to 2022, a year marked by a period of separation that was both challenging and transformative. 'Flamingo' is not just an album; it is a voyage through the labyrinth of heartache and healing. Each track resonates with the overarching theme of the album, yet each presents a unique interpretation of it. Every song echoes the same meaning, the same core narrative, but from a different emotional lens.’ Butchy Davy (The Confederate Dead)

‘“Flamingo by London’s psychedelic indie band The Confederate Dead flows by like a strange dream. Each song flows differently, shifting the dreamy images into another direction. Thoughts of The Black Angels, the Fuzz Club catalogue and genres from shoegaze to garage pop and back to good old psych rock fight a confusing fight for my attention. In the end it appears that this struggle will never truly be decided. The Confederate Dead is their own beast, and a great one at that.

Theirs is a sound that oozes confidence and grandeur, presented like a big name would. and there is no reason why The Confederate Dead would not dream big, they have the chops, the songs, the looks, the only thing standing in the way of moving up might be their dark brooding undertones and their refusal to do a cool thing twice.

Because the most powerful thing about Flamingo is its versatility. The album is like a box of assorted chocolates, the one you can’t get enough of because each song is delicious and sweet in its own way. So, indulge yourself, have a chocolate, or ten…before you know it the album is over, and you’ll press play again.’

@weirdoshrineblog 2023.

Bruno Berle, the young songwriter and poet originally hailing from Maceió, the capital of Brazil’s Alagoas state, crafts songs that are simple, direct, and full of tender nuance. With his first album No Reino Dos Afetos (which translates to "In the Realm of Affections” and was released in 2022), Berle firmly established himself as a unique and important voice in the burgeoning scene of new Brazilian artists making a global impact, including peers like Ana Frango Elétrico, Tim Bernardes, Bala Desejo, Sessa and more. Now back with his second album, No Reino Dos Afetos 2, he stretches that further.

Bruno Berle’s music lives between two worlds – a traditional Brazilian folk talent steeped in history, and a contemporary, dreamy electronic pop; the result is songwriting that’s genre-bending, intentional, iconoclastic and consuming, spacious and sinewy and singular, a striking reflection of its composer while leaving space for the listener to settle in. The album follows Bruno’s relocation to São Paulo, and the songs are a reflection of his past and present. A rebuke of former categorizations of his work in Brazilian music scenes, and an idea of where his music can move, unfettered.

Berle’s music is purposeful in being a true portrait of himself, and a reflection of the music, art, and fashion scenes he personally moves through. Berle aims to provide an entrypoint for Black queer joy in his music, in his storytelling, in his presence and vision as a creative. For him, it feels subversive to be playing MPB laced with dubstep and lo-fi, a sort of intentional sacrilege, capturing a dialogue of modernity in traditional music.

Berle wrote most of the arrangements and co-produced his new album, Reino Dos Afetos 2 with longtime friend and musical partner Batata Boy, who is also from Maceió; the album was recorded in Rio de Janeiro, Maceió, and São Paulo, his new home, and picks up the conversation begun in 2022 on Berle’s debut album No Reino dos Afetos. Both records are the result of a nonlinear but coherent seven-year music creation process culminating in these albums, holding hands across space and time.

“Tirolirole,” the first single from the record, was released at the end of 2023; sun-soaked rhythms and soft voice coat the song, the lilting refrain of “Tirolirole” throughout – hushed, gentle, but somehow almost tactile, a golden-hour moment unlocked in the mind. “Tirolirole” is a triumphant future classic about the temporality of a blossoming love, with Bruno’s stunning vocal soaring over melodies which ebb and flow like the waters on the Atlantic shore. Of the track, Berle explains: “Despite ‘Tirolirole’ being an expression that evokes my childhood, just like the light words about nature, the harmony, and the poetry are epic, carrying a great hope for love.”

In fact, the guiding theme of No Reino dos Afetos 2 is a relationship, unfolding in the arc of a weekend. It traverses the innocence of an early young love, how that can be formative, can stretch on to take new shapes, or shape you. The album happens at the genesis of meeting someone and falling for them, before the relationship is thrown into overdrive – set in a big city, against a backdrop of major life changes, rising energy, the sound of São Paulo.

Something transcendental emerges in “Dizer Adeus,” with an arrangement that echoes a gospel atmosphere (evangelical and Catholic environments were pivotal to Berle’s upbringing). On “É Só Você Chegar,” piano and flute gracefully intertwine, a dance, while “Quando Penso” skews sparser, the voice-and-guitar minimalism somehow cultivating an entirely different shape – somehow both cozy and melancholy, with the background sound of a rainy day. Coupled with the lo-fi aspects that shape much of the album’s personality in the vocals and the production, No Reino Dos Afetos 2 is meticulously elaborated by Berle’s sonic alchemy, like on the mid-album instrumental “Sonho,” which feels like floating. “It’s the apex. It’s when lovers are sleeping together,” Berle explains of the feeling he wanted to encapsulate in the song.

On “Love Comes Back” Berle interprets Arthur Russell, the late Iowa musician who only reached greater visibility after he died in 1992. “His way of making music is similar to mine,” Berle explains. “He sings in a more fragile way, has more of an experimental way of recording, letting ‘chance’ appear in the final work.”

Even so, Berle doesn’t want his music to be buried in sentimentality – and the purposefulness of his craft serves as a sort of north star. The production, the arrangements, his restraint and intentionality in crafting his songs feel just as vital as their emotional cores. His songwriting is amorphous, fluid, an encompassing genre-bending movement in-and-of-itself, quietly daring. The songs are often in conversation with other works – drinking in fountains as diverse as the filmmaking of Ingmar Bergman, the poetry of Walt Whitman, the rhythm of Djavan, and the painting of Maxwell Alexandre. Musically he weaves together a rich tapestry of Brazilian folk, UK 2-step garage/dub, trip hop and sun soaked west coast songwriters; something akin to the worlds of Milton Nascimento, Arthur Russell, James Blake, Feist, and Sade colliding into one. But even then No Reino Dos Afetos 2 floats separately, a romanticism driven by a simplicity and intimacy, an open-ended possibility, Berle’s singularity as an artist at the helm of the ship.

In the ever-evolving landscape of the underground music scene, few bands have made an impact quite like Selofan, an immensely talented duo of Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, has carved a niche for themselves within the international pantheon of darkwave, post-punk, and '80s synthpop, blending these influences to create a sound uniquely their own. Their journey, marked by a commitment to artistic integrity and evolution, has taken them from the cozy confines of local venues to the grand stages of international festivals, earning them a dedicated following and critical acclaim along the way. Their sixth album, Partners in Hell, released in October 2020, navigated the band through unprecedented times, testing their adaptability and resilience. Despite the hurdles to performing live and the global pandemic's challenges, Selofan emerged stronger, embarking on international tours with a newfound appreciation and connection with their global audience, during this period of introspection and isolation, Joanna Pavlidou embarked on a new venture, GIOVANNA, released under Selofan’s house label, Fabrika Records. GIOVANNA, which places Pavlidou at the helm of vocal and lyrical composition, represents a full on foray into synth-pop. showcasing a different facet of her artistic identity, with lyrics entirely in Greek. In 2023, Selofan hit the circuit hard, lighting up revered festivals with their presence. They stood shoulder to shoulder with heavy hitters like Molchat Doma and Lebanon Hanover at Grey Scale and performed with with the likes of The Sisters of Mercy, VNV Nation, and She Past Away at the Death Disco fest in their hometown of Athens. With each album they have released Selofan made significant strides in their evolution, deepening their engagement with their art. And their forthcoming seventh full length studio release, Animal Mentality, is poised to be their most compelling work yet. Animal Mentality unfolds as a labyrinthine journey through the elemental aspects of human emotion and experience, set against the backdrop of Selofan's signature darkwave sound. Each track on the album delves into different facets of the human condition, from the depths of desire to the pangs of isolation, encapsulating the duo's profound understanding of the intricate spectrum of human emotion and subjective experiences. The album kicks off with "Sticky Fingers," a track that melds cinematic scope with a haunting storyline, reminiscent of Jean-Michel Jarre's icy synths and a lyrical nod to Joy Division. This opening salvo revisits the tragic allure of classic car accident songs, weaving a tale of joy turned to sorrow amidst the snowy Alps. "Love's Secret Game" delves into the depths of forbidden desire, with vocals that echo the melancholy timbre of Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, and Nico. It's a tale of passion and ephemeral connection, promising an enduring presence despite the inevitable fracture of time and distance. In "Lucille," sung by Dimitris Pavlidis, the plot is ensnared in the machinations of a tempestuous affair, with gothic undertones evoking the dramatic soundscapes of Ultravox and Clan of Xymox. The lyrics are steeped in danger and desire - a dance with the shadows. "Sacrifice Me" plunges into the abyss of despair, driven by a Bauhaus-esque bassline. It's a plea for release from the chains of alienation, a yearning for a final gesture of solace in the face of overwhelming darkness. "Bluebirds" offers a poignant reflection on solitude, with the fleeting imagery of bluebirds symbolizing the elusive quest for happiness. The song serves as a meditation on the internal struggle to maintain hope in a world shaded by sorrow. The narrative shifts with "Glassplitter," where German lyrics paint a portrait of deceptive allure and toxic entanglement. We are confronted with irresistible danger, masked by a veneer of beauty. "Ignoranz" continues the exploration in German, pondering the universality of misunderstanding. It's a reflection on the subjective nature of truth and the shared human experience of ignorance. "Behind My Eyelids" closes the odyssey, a contemplation on melancholy and metamorphosis. The phoenix rises from the ashes of betrayal to the brighter realm of renewal - a beautiful homage to the resilience of the human spirit amidst the often harrowing cycles of life. More than just an album, Animal Mentality is a milestone in Selofan's career, marking a decade of musical innovation and growth. It's a testament to their enduring spirit and a bold step into new realms of artistic expression. As Selofan continues to evolve, they remain at the forefront of their genre, pushing boundaries and exploring the depths of the human psyche through their haunting melodies and poignant lyrics.

Facing the tragic passing of both his brother and grandfather, as well as the looming pandemic, The Juniper Berries’ Josh Stirm hit upon a strange realization. “The grief felt weirdly impersonal,” The Austin-based multi-instrumentalist says. “More than losing family members, it brought me a broader understanding of what it means to love people and lose them.” Stirm turned that overwhelming connection to the very idea of connection into Death and Texas (due April 19th, 2024 via Earth Libraries), a set of character-driven tracks that explore loss as an affirmation of life.

"Death and Texas" by The Juniper Berries includes the following tracks: "Colleen", "The Home Team", "Stephanie", "Walk Home" and more.
This version of the album comes as a 1LP with a Lyrics & Sticker Insert.

A Chaos Of Flowers is an album that builds on their ferocious 2023 album nature morte. BIG|BRAVE"s music has been described as massive minimalism. Their fusillades of textural distortion and feedback emphasize their music"s frayed edges as much as its all-encompassing weight. The potency of the trio"s work is their singular artistry combining elements of traditional folk techniques and a modern deconstruction of guitar music. Gain, feedback, and amplitude are essential. For A Chaos Of Flowers guitarist/vocalist Robin Wattie drew heavily on the poems of artists whom Wattie found kinship in, their words resonant with experiences of those often sidelined by cultural norms. "I discovered that most poems from folk traditions or in the public domain seem to be by men - to which I could not quite relate. In my search, I rediscovered some of my favorite works and poets," says Wattie. Guitarist Mathieu Ball and drummer Tasy Hudson help Wattie shape poetry into pieces as dense and impenetrable as they are vulnerable. BIG|BRAVE achieve their colossal sound through minimalist approaches, a deft understanding of dynamics and an inventive employment of percussion and distortion. The trio reconceptualize what it is to be heavy or minimal, challenging perceptions with their illumination of painfully overlooked perspectives. Guest guitarist Marisa Anderson lends earthen, blues-inflected atmospheres to the album, where guitarist Tashi Dorji and saxophonist Patrick Shiroishi amplify the squall. Working closely with frequent collaborator and producer/engineer Seth Manchester, the internal tumult of Wattie"s voice rings out in warbles, haunting echoes, and unearthly harmonies across bold immense walls of distortion. BIG|BRAVE have collaborated with metal monsters The Body on a previous Thrill Jockey release, Leaving None But Small Birds, and have toured internationally with bands like SUMAC, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, SUNN O))), and Lingua Ignota. As they continue to ascend in their journey as pioneers in the contemporary metal scene, it"s safe to say that BIG|BRAVE are here to stay.

As one of the most recorded session singers in the music industry LYNN DAVIS is finally stepping back into the spotlight after four decades of singing background for icons like George Duke, Marvin Gaye, Chaka Khan and Stevie Wonder.

BEAUTIFUL YOU was one of the outstanding soul tracks from last year and CAN I COME OVER a highlight from the year before. Now paired together on a 7” single - the release is made extra special with a beautiful portrait of Lynn, painted by the uber talented Arjan van Gent and on the back cover is Lynn’s musical biography, documented in full!

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

Perhaps known as the frontman of Sunfruits and as the drummer for Jade Imagine, Winter McQuinn’s solo music explores psychedelic country and folk rippling with a free-ness similar to Nick Drake, Syd Barrett, Kevin Ayers and more modern 70s soft rock purveyors like Michael Rault and Drugdealer. His impressive 2021 debut album ‘A Rabble Of Bees’ marked the beginning of Winnie’s solo wanderings, showcasing his songwriting talents and DIY inventiveness. Winter McQuinn’s sophomore solo album 'Move To The Trees' is set for April 5th via Third Eye Stimuli Records and Echodelick Records (USA). McQuinn recorded the new album in April 2022 over one weekend in Anglesea, Victoria with Jesse Williams (Leah Senior, Grace Cummings, Traffik Island) as engineer and producer. 'Move To The Trees' showcases a more refined and sonically sophisticated side to Winter McQuinn’s solo music. Featuring talented musicians Jack Kinder and Lewis Mosley from fellow Third Eye Stimuli family, Hot Apple Band, as well as Elena Jones from Sunfruits and Jaspar Robinson, McQuinn and co create a unique space through their artful intersections of hope and tragedy. A series of anthems for the future, settled in a post psych-folk and 70s soft rock energy, McQuinn takes influence from the new-wave of 70s folk and rock influenced artists from the USA's West Coast such as Sylvie, Cut Worms, John Andrews, Anna St Louis, The Lemon Twigs and more. This album showcases a step up in songwriting and production for Winter McQuinn who’s ever evolving style and commitment to creating is inspiring. The album cover design was hand painted by renowned folk / baroque pop artist Leah Senior and portrays McQuinn in different settings around Anglesea and the studio.

Pressed On Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl! Ridin' Dirty is the third studio album by dirty south legends Bun B and Pimp C - together known as UGK. It is easily considered one of the greatest southern hip hop albums ever made, but let's drop all the labels this is just pure good rap music, for any region. It's all right there, everything that people have come to expect from Houston rap: candy-painted cars, wood-grained steering wheels, flashy jewelry, late-night odes to lean and weed, passing references to DJ Screw tapes, those warm funk synthesizers that sound like radio oldies. All of Ridin' Dirty feels iconic now— among other reasons, because so many of its lyrics have since been cribbed by everyone from Slim Thug to Jay Z. There's the laid-back badassery of "Diamonds and Wood," the zoned-out celebration of "3 in the Morning," the ridiculous boasting of "Fuck My Car." Everything here is essential. Ridin' Dirty was produced entirely by Pimp C and features start to finish bangers such as One Day', Murder', Hi Lif' and of course the title track Ridin' Dirty.' Pimp C's makes use of perfectly chosen Soul, Funk and Gospel samples to create a perfect soundscape for he and Bun B to trade verse over. Despite there being no singles or videos released from the album, the set went on to be a pivotal moment in southern hip hop as well as UGK's best-selling and most critically acclaimed release.

The space between every love is filled with vigilance in preparation for future threat. This threat is not so much pain as failure and, above all, fatigue. Even the beginnings, when love seems at its most accessible, are disturbing. In spite of this we advance into the turmoil because we are inebriated with love.

Dominik Suchy's third album admits all this as a quality of love. Disembodied and denied to be gloom or bliss, love is revealed to be a raw process at full length. This makes for emotionally hypercharged music that is more inevitable than tense. The record unfolds, for all its ruptures and weight, as familiar. It is a music of pathos, because it benefits from the emotional knowledge that already resides in you.

The universality of this angle allows for compositions that are less than opulent. A focus on the mass of sound // verticality leads to a bareness that sets "Every Love..." apart from Suchy's previous works. At times sonically overwhelming and rhythmically ambiguous, it should be approached as free jazz rather than post-club.

Every Love Is an Exercise in Depersonalisation on a Body Without Organs Yet to Be Formed does not submit to the weariness of love // Weltschmerzen does not submit to the weariness of the world.

“In places harrowing and emotionally charged, in other places quite inconspicuous, you feel that you are standing in front of something big, transcending everything, which you observe with sacred reverence. Maybe it's the eye of the storm or that love which is the origin of everything.”
Peter Dolnik, 34.sk —

“One of the most distinct electronic artists in our geographical area.'”
Roberta Tothova, Pravda.sk —

“Everything happens with deep apprehension, the atmosphere and its variations are executed on a masterly level””
Richard Kutej, Fullmoon Zine —

“An album full of incessant soundscapes, undulations and sound-design based portrayals of magnificence.”
Mikulas Hamerla, Alterecho.cz —

First vinyl issue for this 2023 release with bonus track not available on CD.
Nine majestic electro-acoustic threshold devotionals.
**ELECTRONIC SOUND - review (issue 98) “While there are shades and texture in the journey from glowing opener “Cyan” to the glowering conclusion of “Magenta”, they’re so subtle that they make ‘Colours of Air’ the musical equivalent of Rothko’s paintings - monotone at first glance, but with intriguing depths if you’re prepared to search for them.”

MOJO - ★★★★ review in the Underground column (March issue) “Loscil and English’s manipulations drift closer to the ambient techno of Gas.”

UNCUT - 8/10 review (March issue) “Subtle complex, and not always pacifying…’Magenta’s extraplanetary grace is tempered by unresolved tension for distinctly uneasy listening.”
The union of composers Lawrence English and loscil aka Scott Morgan is seamless, sublime, and long overdue.
Born of a conversation centered on the notion of “rich sources” as a forge for electronic music, Colours Of Air is a collection of recordings of a century old pipe organ housed at the historic Old Museum in Brisbane, Australia, which were then processed, transformed, and elevated into eight majestic electro-acoustic threshold devotionals. The timbre of the instrument and spatial fluctuations of room tone infuse the music with a subdued, sacred feel, like vaulted light in a nave of stained glass. They describe the album as “an iterative project, a reduction and eventual expansion,” sifting the swells and drones of the organ for every shivering shade of radiance.
The tracks are named for the hue each piece suggests – from the gauzy levitational miasma of “Yellow” to the pulsing melancholic mirage of “Violet” to the seething twilit sandstorm of “Magenta.” Morgan and English are both adept at conjuring moods of muted grandeur, like landscapes veiled in dusk, still looming and luminous.

* 50th anniversary reissue of the ground-breaking set, originally released on Charisma in 1974.
* A record that at the time straddled the world between `Pub Rock’ scene and the then seemingly new sound of reggae music, at least to UK years.
* Released hot-on-the-heels of the Wailers’ `Catch a Fire’ and `Burnin’’ when “reggae fever” was starting to take root in the UK.
* G.T. Moore had previously been part of the legendary folk group Heron, before becoming the first white musician to make any serious attempt to make authentic reggae.
* The eponymously titled debut set from the Reggae Guitars featured session musician John `Rabbit’ (who has worked with Wailers, Free and The Who) and was mixed by Tom Platt who engineered the `Catch a Fire’ album.
* The set mostly consists of originals with the exception of covers of tracks by Bob Dylan, Heptones and Diana Ross.

Los Angeles dream merchants return with a re-release of classic tracks initially from the 1994 debut “Nearfield”. This new interpretation entitled “Dissolve” includes different mixes and a never-before-heard track, “Skywards”. Closedown stand out as one of the most curiously overlooked. This four-piece from Los Angeles was one of America’s earliest shoegaze bands; some even say they were the first. Emerging from currents of drenching spectral etherealism, Closedown pin you down permanently with swelling whirlpools of brilliant sounds. The comparison to other bliss-rock bands is inevitable, yet such analogies overlook the uniqueness of Closedown’s musical conception.

Mesmerizing and exuberant Argentinian La Yegros, probably the most magnetic artist on the South American continent, is back with a new album!

The undisputed Queen of "Nu Cumbia" has not rested on her laurels. Surrounded by the same accomplices who have supported her for the last ten years, but eager to renew herself, she has set about recording her fourth album, which stands out from her discography. Although her personal folklore is still rooted in South American folklore, La Yegros is now absorbing contemporary, global music, while tackling intimate, often melancholy and even painful subjects, which she overcomes with the same resilience that drives her in concert. Nothing stands in the way of this Argentinian whirlwind, all the more fascinating for the fact that personal considerations are now surfacing beneath the veneer of the party atmosphere she sets alight.

La Yegros returned to the stage in 2022 to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Viene de Mí, her single hit from the self-titled album, released in 2012 in Argentina and then worldwide in 2013, which catapulted her to international fame. We then discovered a singer who had grown up in the traditions of her country. Her parents come from Misiones, a province bordering Brazil and Paraguay, where balls are filled with the sounds of chamamé (a mix of polka and Guaraní music), Carnavalito (Andean folklore) and Colombian Cumbia. But she herself is a native of Buenos Aires, whose nights are enlivened by the bass of Dancehall and electronic music.

These influences have merged in two further successful albums, Magnetismo (2016) and Suelta (2019), followed by high voltage tours during which La Yegros has been able to display her generous nature, inexhaustible energy, exuberant personality and infectious enthusiasm.

To record her new album entitled 'HAZ', La Yegros has put her faith in the same team that has worked with her since Viene de Mí. On one hand, producer Gaby Kerpel (also known as King Coya), a pioneer of synthetic experimentation applied to traditional music, who has remained her faithful accomplice for over twenty years. On the other hand, composer Daniel Martín, who knows how to come up with melodies to dream about and hymns to sing along to. Inseparable and complementary, the trio continues to concoct this mesmerizing mixture where acoustic instruments meet samples and the rolling of machines. But the new productions don't rely on a tried and tested formula. Generally co-produced between France and Argentina, they break away from over-defined genres. La Yegros knits together new rhythms and incorporates sounds that are unheard of in her country, derived from the latest urban trends, as well as echoes of reggae and funk. As for the lyrics, signed alternately by the trio, they are embodied by La Yegros whose charismatic voice questions a period of her life tossed by waves of love and lovelessness, joy and sorrow, euphoria and anguish, indulgence and resentment.

The album is open to a wealth of musical styles. You'll hear funk guitar and Andean flutes, melancholy accordion and rolling drums, Tuareg blues enhanced by brass, house and electro Cumbia loops, and the bassoons of a chamber orchestra. The folklore 2.0 of La Yegros, nourished by its colorful inspiration, at times tender or exalted, has been imagined as a hymn to love and the contradictory feelings that come with it. As always, it has also been conceived with the stage in mind. Hatching in a storm of overturned emotions, the album is all the more explosive for the strength of the live show that accompanies it. In addition to the usual line-up of guitar, accordion and percussion, a musician handles synthesizers and machines to boost the electronic turboshaft. In any case, you can count on the singer to assert her increasingly clear-cut character with each new project. And, above all, she won't give up. L.a Yegros is back and her batteries are fully charged.

Feels as if we're stepping outside the known universe of Nigga Fox but simultaneously being invited in. It's not about being hermetic, shutting out followers of his trademark dance beats or making an experimental statement per se. All this music comes effortlessly during sessions such as any other, so don't throw away valuable time searching for a concept.

"Chá Preto" sounds revolutionary but not so much in his discography, accustomed as we are to game-changing compositional solutions in the afro musical continuum but - never forget - also in Dance Music taken as a broad genre. But is it Dance? Certainly a fair amount of suffering and introspection comes clear throughout the album, namely in the sequence made up of "Má Rotina" and "Mutadoree Leonor". "Mutadoree" is a free, alternative spelling of "much pain" and each listener can process the info as s(h)e pleases. The music is also strikingly beautiful, so there's really no final word on this.

Beats come sparse, a very personal phraseology, the dancefloor a memory. Or just something to keep in mind for a future night out. Presently there's no lack of adventure or excitement in these grooves, a uniquely themed one-person show of musical skills and bare emotion. It ends in a snap, not a trace of embellishment. Pragmatic and out of the loop. Rewind and feel it all over again. Any comparison in mind? Flip through History books and you won't find this chapter.

Bite Down, the Merge Records debut of Rosali, finds acclaimed songwriter and guitarist Rosali Middleman in the midst of transition. Written after moving to North Carolina from her longtime home of Philadelphia, Bite Down is a searching, hungry record by an artist who is resolved to bite down on life, in all its horror and joy. She is joined here by Mowed Sound_David Nance (bass, guitar), James Schroeder (guitar, synth), Kevin Donahue (drums, percussion)_and in studio by Destroyer collaborator Ted Bois (keys). Bite Down is Rosali's second album working with Mowed Sound, and there is urgency and ambition in their collaboration_a band pushing each other not just to expand on what they've already done together, but to break through into altogether new territory. Among those joining Rosali and her band there is Dan Bejar of Destroyer, who waxes poetically on where she's been, where she's going, and how thrilling Bite Down is to experience: It's hard to talk about Rosali's music. Songs that reach outward like this, but then constantly disarm with their intimacy. What do you call such inner searching that is hellbent on rollicking? Songs that long for a sense of peace and songs that want romance, all on equal footing in the same plot of earth? Performed wild, but always centered around the incredible lyrical calm that is Rosali's voice. Bite Down makes me think about singers and bands that throw themselves hard into the storm, the way the Rosali quartet does. (Jim captures the tone of this perfectly, again!) The calm of her voice over top of the band's raging_it is the emblem of songs that live to put themselves in harm's way. But it's not harm. It's just that you have to play hard to get at these goods. The calm of Rosali's voice, the straight talk of her inner search vs. the wildness of the band, the sonic storm she rides in on. That's their sound. The Mowed Sound. It's hard to talk about these last couple Rosali albums without talking about them. They play free and wild and relentlessly melodious. They rip and create space and fill it up with what seems like reckless abandon, but listen carefully or listen for a while and you'll find them paying real close attention to each other and exactly what the song demands. Maybe Fairport did this, maybe VU. It's a strange telepathic brew. Breezier songs like "On Tonight" and "Rewind" sound like they've fought their way to get to that sense of ease. Maybe that's the Mowed Sound "sound"_hard-won ease. Then add to that Ted Bois' patented Rhodes sleaze (see sinuous title track "Bite Down") steering the record into late-night corners; the incredible "Hills on Fire" (maybe the centerpiece of the album), the guitar-ripping and the singing taking turns in reaching new levels of intimacy. It feels listened-in on, exposed and invented on the spot. It is also simply a staggeringly beautiful song. There are a few of those on the album. In contrast, "My Kind" is a raucous, hand-delivered classic; the band throws tables over. For the most part, this is a moodier record than No Medium. It has the same sound of "I've traveled through fire to deliver you these songs," but it is also quieter, more nocturnal. The quiet dread of staring down an open road, and the excitement of that. By the final track, "May It Be on Offer," it is the prayer uttered as you hand yourself over to the world.

Emerging out of Amsterdam's vibrant squat scene in 1979, The Ex – a name chosen for the ease and speed with which it could be spray-painted onto a wall – have for four decades been an entirely self-sustaining musical entity, charting a course through the global underground with a spirit of freedom and radical exploration.

Blueprints For A Blackout, The Ex's fifth album and first double LP, combines caustic studio experimentations and loose songs from their gripping live-set at the time. The band consisted of singer G.W. Sok, guitarist Terrie Ex, two new recruits on bass, Luc and Yoke, and drummer Sabien Witteman, along with a plethora of guests including Mekons' Jon Langford and long-serving sound engineer Dolf Planteijdt, among others.

Originally released in 1984 on the band's own Pig Brother Productions, Blueprints veers from jagged punk explosions to sharply focused improvisations featuring field recordings that would become a hallmark of their subsequent forays into free jazz and experimental music. The overall effect is not unlike the menace of a slowly building winter storm.

Tracks like "Rabble With A Cause," "U.S. Hole" and "Scrub That Scum" stand out as exemplars of this phase of The Ex. Comparisons can be made to contemporaries Einstürzende Neubauten, NoMeansNo and Svätsox as well as later Crass label bands.

Emerging out of Amsterdam's vibrant squat scene in 1979, The Ex – a name chosen for the ease and speed with which it could be spray-painted onto a wall – have for four decades been an entirely self-sustaining musical entity, charting a course through the global underground with a spirit of freedom and radical exploration.

On 1985's Pokkeherrie (Dutch for "terrible noise"), The Ex return to the more stripped-down instrumentation on their early LPs. A key lineup change would also see the arrival of drummer Kat Bornefeld (whose supple rhythms propel the group to this day).

Recorded at the new location of Koeienverhuur Studio in the basement of storied squat/venue Emma, Pokkeherrie is a testament to the angular momentum of a group in full creative flux. Right from the opening track, bassist Luc Klaasen generates a relentless pulse. Terrie Ex's sparse/acidic guitar and G.W. Sok's impassioned vocals combine in a vein similar to The Minutemen, Flipper or Rudimentary Peni, except The Ex have the patience and wherewithal to sustain their approach beyond just brief explosions.

Perhaps only The Fall from this period can match The Ex's ability to hold a melody together while utilizing otherwise harsh sonic elements over an extended piece, most effectively on "Soviet Threat," "1,000,000 Ashtrays" and "White Liberals."