Search:pain

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Piotr Kurek’s new album “Smartwoods” is a sprawling root system of tiny melodic phrases that loop and curl around subtly evolving instrumental thickets. The Warsaw-based producer and composer takes his cues from early music, baroque music and experimental jazz, entangling his influences with filigree traces of contemporary computer music and fueling it with sonic vapors from the near future.

Made up of seven distinct segments, the album blurs its acoustic and electronic elements into an illusory hedge of abstract sound. Harp, saxophone, clarinet, double bass, voices and guitar twist into computerized processes and synthesizer chirps, creating an uncanny dreamworld where the real isn’t always what it seems. Each player is entwined with the other to create a living, breathing whole.

Like Kurek’s painterly 2021 album “World Speaks”, “Smartwoods” is also inspired by visual art - particularly the whimsical work of Algerian-French graphic designer Jean Sariano. The album cover features artwork by Polish painter Tomasz Kowalski, whose shapeshifting creatures and miniature stories aptly reflect the music’s wild fantasy. The first manifestation of “Smartwoods” – a live show at Unsound in Kraków in 2022 – featured animations by Italian artist Francesco Marrello, who put together a visual treatment for the single “Harps”.

Music composed, arranged and produced by Piotr Kurek
Anna Pašic - harp
Tomasz Duda - clarinets, saxophone, flute
Wojtek Traczyk - double bass, electric bass
Piotr Kurek - keyboards, MIDI wind controller, electric guitar
Recorded in June and November 2022 by Piotr Kurek, Piotr Zabrodzki (Studio Pasterka) and Tomasz Duda

Hellfish and Bryan Fury, the Axe Gabba Murda Mob, are two of the biggest innovators in hardcore techno. Both have been pushing the genre in all kinds of directions for over two decades providing the pulse for thousands of parties around the globe. So with this in mind, we are honoured to present 'Baby Eaters', an earth shaking joyride to the very edge of the human psyche and beyond.

The eponymous A-side strikes terror into the hearts of men, splitting brain cells like atoms with destructive chain reactions of radical distortion and soul-stripping screams. Pure demonic catharsis, sound frequencies don't get more violent than this. The B side 'Acid Abyss' is an LSD stained hardcore techno anthem where eerily cold voices are strangled by crunchy bellowing kick drums and bleeding 303s. Despite still being cranked up, the precision of the fills in this track offsets the chaotic kicks of the A-side, coming off almost subtle in comparison.

This single is for connoisseurs coming lovingly housed with artwork by the wonderful Jim'll'Paint it, depicting the deadly duo conducting some rather grizzly research in their underworld studio.

For fans of: Venetian Snares - Bloody Fist

Will Johnson of Centro Matic's ninth solo album. No Ordinary Crown, hums with palpable motion. Travelers, runners and conductors fill its lyrics, and gesticulating storms and emotional highs and lows seep through the instinctual quality of its rock ’n roll performances. It’s also cabled by ephemeral momentum. The songs were conceived in stolen moments and brief windows of time between the responsibilities of family and a multi-hyphenate career. The singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, painter and novelist describes the demo process as “fairly jagged,” a gathering and stitching of audio snippets recorded via cell phone and dictaphone over a year and half. “I finalized the songs on short tours where I could hear my thoughts a bit more clearly,” he says. “Somewhere along the line someone advised me to never be afraid to hurt my characters, that I will always be able to get them out of it,” he says. “I do want there to be these small victories and small portals of hope.” With No Ordinary Crown, people may behave badly, and the road may get rough, but the reward is in the journey. Released via Austin label Keeled Scales (home to Katy Kirby, Buck Meek of Big Thief, Why Bonnie, Twain, Sun June

New highly awaited album by Marco Fra+y & Daniele Baldelli. GRAFFITO is the second epilogue after OIL PAINTING. An explosion of Electronic - Funky and Cosmic Sound out on Typhoon Records.

Absolutely not to be missed.

You can't get Deeper if you're standing still. That's intentional, says the Chicago quartet's Nic Gohl. "Does it feel good when you're listening to this song? Does your body want to move with it?" These are the questions he asked himself as he and bandmates Shiraz Bhatti, Drew McBride, and Kevin Fairbairn were writing and recording Careful!, their third record and Sub Pop debut. "I wanted these to be interesting songs, but in a way where a two-year-old would vibe out to it," Gohl adds.

"It's pop music, basically." That "basically" qualifier is working pretty hard, as fans of 2020's Auto-Pain might suppose. On Careful!, they're not reimagining their sound so much as testing its limits. If you want to, you can hear echoes of David Bowie's Low in the snapping rhythm and gray-sky synths of "Tele," but you can also hear a bit of Auto-Pain in the nailed-in, stippling lines being spit out by Bhatti's drum programming and McBride's synthesizer.

"Fame" seems to stumble together and nearly fall apart, the dialed-up noise making the beat feel maniacal and a little invincible, the whole thing a series of short, snipped, autonomous gestures that are by now Deeper's trademark. "Build a Bridge" pushes in the opposite direction, using a prickly guitar line to launch into big, smeary art-pop, its emotional palette clear, well-defined, and easy to latch onto.

On "Sub," Gohl sings above and below the melody like Ian McCulloch, bellowing and wondering and ruminating and rounding into swaggering confidence that the band rises to meet. It's festival headliner music that still feels like it was written in a garage. That fraternal interdependence is near the center of Deeper's music. The musical and lyrical devotion to mutuality makes this restlessly curious, stylistically broad album feels like the most coherent portrait of who Deeper is. Or, as McBride ultimately frames it, "Careful! is about looking out for one another."

You can't get Deeper if you're standing still. That's intentional, says the Chicago quartet's Nic Gohl. "Does it feel good when you're listening to this song? Does your body want to move with it?" These are the questions he asked himself as he and bandmates Shiraz Bhatti, Drew McBride, and Kevin Fairbairn were writing and recording Careful!, their third record and Sub Pop debut. "I wanted these to be interesting songs, but in a way where a two-year-old would vibe out to it," Gohl adds.

"It's pop music, basically." That "basically" qualifier is working pretty hard, as fans of 2020's Auto-Pain might suppose. On Careful!, they're not reimagining their sound so much as testing its limits. If you want to, you can hear echoes of David Bowie's Low in the snapping rhythm and gray-sky synths of "Tele," but you can also hear a bit of Auto-Pain in the nailed-in, stippling lines being spit out by Bhatti's drum programming and McBride's synthesizer.

"Fame" seems to stumble together and nearly fall apart, the dialed-up noise making the beat feel maniacal and a little invincible, the whole thing a series of short, snipped, autonomous gestures that are by now Deeper's trademark. "Build a Bridge" pushes in the opposite direction, using a prickly guitar line to launch into big, smeary art-pop, its emotional palette clear, well-defined, and easy to latch onto.

On "Sub," Gohl sings above and below the melody like Ian McCulloch, bellowing and wondering and ruminating and rounding into swaggering confidence that the band rises to meet. It's festival headliner music that still feels like it was written in a garage. That fraternal interdependence is near the center of Deeper's music. The musical and lyrical devotion to mutuality makes this restlessly curious, stylistically broad album feels like the most coherent portrait of who Deeper is. Or, as McBride ultimately frames it, "Careful! is about looking out for one another."

High Roller Records, 2nd pressing black vinyl, ltd 300, 4 page insert, poster, Cassette transfer, audio restoration and mastering by Patrick W. Engel at TEMPLE OF DISHARMONY in November 2020 / January 2022. Artwork and handlettering by Alexander von Wieding.

High Roller Records, 2nd pressing, transparent ultra clear vinyl, ltd 200, 4 page insert, poster, Cassette transfer, audio restoration and mastering by Patrick W. Engel at TEMPLE OF DISHARMONY in November 2020 / January 2022. Artwork and handlettering by Alexander von Wieding.

Magestic album re-issue : The complete colelctions of tunes Manu Le Malin did produced in 2004, minus the tunes that were already pressed on vinyl and plus the tunes that were not produced on the CD because that would have been « too long »... Here also stand a LFO Mark Bell remix. Peace.... And more...

Primal Fear, die Helden des Power Metal, verkünden stolz und lautstark die Ankunft ihres neuen Albums "Code Red" für den 1. September 2023. Nach dem riesigen Erfolg ihres letzten Albums "Metal Commando" (das 2020 u.a. mit #7 in Deutschland, #6 in der Schweiz und #28 in Österreich die höchsten Chartplatzierungen der Bandgeschichte erreichte) ist "Code Red" ein neuer Meilenstein und bietet alles, wofür man Primal Fear liebt:

Der unverwechselbare Gesang von Ralf Scheepers, prägnante Melodien, eingängige Refrains und die gewaltige Soundwand (erneut war hier Jacob Hansen am Werk) machen "Code Red" auf Anhieb zu einem echten Erlebnis - und zukünftigen Klassiker.

Primal Fear, die Helden des Power Metal, verkünden stolz und lautstark die Ankunft ihres neuen Albums "Code Red" für den 1. September 2023. Nach dem riesigen Erfolg ihres letzten Albums "Metal Commando" (das 2020 u.a. mit #7 in Deutschland, #6 in der Schweiz und #28 in Österreich die höchsten Chartplatzierungen der Bandgeschichte erreichte) ist "Code Red" ein neuer Meilenstein und bietet alles, wofür man Primal Fear liebt:

Der unverwechselbare Gesang von Ralf Scheepers, prägnante Melodien, eingängige Refrains und die gewaltige Soundwand (erneut war hier Jacob Hansen am Werk) machen "Code Red" auf Anhieb zu einem echten Erlebnis - und zukünftigen Klassiker.

Primal Fear, die Helden des Power Metal, verkünden stolz und lautstark die Ankunft ihres neuen Albums "Code Red" für den 1. September 2023. Nach dem riesigen Erfolg ihres letzten Albums "Metal Commando" (das 2020 u.a. mit #7 in Deutschland, #6 in der Schweiz und #28 in Österreich die höchsten Chartplatzierungen der Bandgeschichte erreichte) ist "Code Red" ein neuer Meilenstein und bietet alles, wofür man Primal Fear liebt:

Der unverwechselbare Gesang von Ralf Scheepers, prägnante Melodien, eingängige Refrains und die gewaltige Soundwand (erneut war hier Jacob Hansen am Werk) machen "Code Red" auf Anhieb zu einem echten Erlebnis - und zukünftigen Klassiker.

Today, Anjimile Chithambo, better known as Anjimile, announces his new album, The King, out September 8th, his first full-length since 2020’s breakthrough Giver Taker. To herald the announcement, he shares lead single, ‘The King’, accompanied by a visualiser by Daniela Yohannes, whose striking painting takes centre stage on the album cover.

Highlighting the artistic shift from Giver Taker to now, ‘The King’ opens with a lofty, melodic choir, an intro that belies the song’s motives. Suddenly, sinister arpeggios interrupt the reverie, and the voices grow darkly serious. Deeply steeped in the confusion, grief, and rage of being Black in America, ‘The King’ pushes back against the tired adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” hissing, “What don ’t kill you almost killed you// What don’t fill you//pains you// drains you.”

“If Giver Taker was an album of prayers, The King is an album of curses.” In his second album, Anjimile continues exploring what it means to be a Black trans person in America. The brutally honest reflection of 2020’s deadly summer is less reminiscent of the pink cloud of early sobriety and more rooted in the reality of seeing brutality with clear eyes. Drawing from influences ranging from religion, Phillip Glass, and lived experiences, the album is a grand step forward for Anjimile. Nearly every sound you hear on The King comes from two instruments: an acoustic guitar and Anjimile’s own voice. Other than a few beautiful contributions from Justine
Bowe, Brad Allen Williams, Sam Gendel, and James Krivchenia (Big Thief), the album is the result of a year in LA working intimately with Grammy and Juno winner Shawn Everett.

Composer Ori Barel rolls up the playful aestheticism of ‘90s electronica, taught pointillism of Rock in Opposition, dada collage of Krautrock, and the heavy lushness of Jack Nitzsche arrangements into a seamless sci-‑ fantasia.

Today, Anjimile Chithambo, better known as Anjimile, announces his new album, The King, out September 8th, his first full-length since 2020’s breakthrough Giver Taker. To herald the announcement, he shares lead single, ‘The King’, accompanied by a visualiser by Daniela Yohannes, whose striking painting takes centre stage on the album cover.

Highlighting the artistic shift from Giver Taker to now, ‘The King’ opens with a lofty, melodic choir, an intro that belies the song’s motives. Suddenly, sinister arpeggios interrupt the reverie, and the voices grow darkly serious. Deeply steeped in the confusion, grief, and rage of being Black in America, ‘The King’ pushes back against the tired adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” hissing, “What don ’t kill you almost killed you// What don’t fill you//pains you// drains you.”

“If Giver Taker was an album of prayers, The King is an album of curses.” In his second album, Anjimile continues exploring what it means to be a Black trans person in America. The brutally honest reflection of 2020’s deadly summer is less reminiscent of the pink cloud of early sobriety and more rooted in the reality of seeing brutality with clear eyes. Drawing from influences ranging from religion, Phillip Glass, and lived experiences, the album is a grand step forward for Anjimile. Nearly every sound you hear on The King comes from two instruments: an acoustic guitar and Anjimile’s own voice. Other than a few beautiful contributions from Justine
Bowe, Brad Allen Williams, Sam Gendel, and James Krivchenia (Big Thief), the album is the result of a year in LA working intimately with Grammy and Juno winner Shawn Everett.

The first vinyl release from American artist Sydney Spann, Sending Up A Spiral Of well encapsulates Spann’s body of work thus far. On their music, which reacts to themes of family systems and care work, Sydney writes, “people who have done care work —nannies, sex workers, therapists, nurses— may possess their own musical knowledge, developed over time through particular modes of voicing practiced to achieve a desired outcome in their labor. Attending intimately to these ways of voicing and listening and bringing them into a sound practice could be a way to legitimize a less recognized kind of musical knowledge.”

Sending Up A Spiral Of explores this unarticulated expression through sound and song. The titular piece traces Spann within some quixotic woodland, as if beginning inside of some urban fairy-story. Self-soothing singing quivers under dragging branches, peeling cement and other tactile grit. The work drops into a new proximity half-way through as electronic contours overtake the environment. Sine-tones smolder in a pulsating choreography, perhaps reminiscent of Richard Maxfield’s “Night Music” played at half-speed.

The second section of the record depicts a series of five smaller portraits, expressed (or disguised) as lullabies. An oceanic humming permeates them. “Possession” and “Purposeful Evening” are the most song-like lullabies, with their verse-chorus repetition and melodic simplicity. Innocuous words “baby” and “honey” are encoded with deeper, often painful connotations. Sydney’s voice and vision for this album is ambitious, cloaked in the strains and contradictions of what love means in the nuclear family.

A 16-page artist pamphlet of rubbings, photographs and sheet music accompanies the LP, along with a digital PDF of Spann’s thesis “Sending Up A Spiral Of: A Musical Epistemology Made Through Care Work.”