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Die französische Alternative Art-Rock-Band Klone kehrt mit ihrem 10. Album "The Unseen" zurück und treibt ihren ohnehin schon üppigen Sound in schwindelerregende, magische Höhen. "The Unseen" ist eine kühne neue Reise durch eine einzigartige und doch kontrastreiche Klanglandschaft, eine immersive, traumhafte Erfahrung, die von der Bedeutung von Dingen spricht, die auf den ersten Blick keine Bedeutung zu haben scheinen. Emotional wie konzeptionell haben Klone wieder einmal neue klangliche Wege beschritten und ihren charakteristischen doch weiten Sound ausgebaut. Seit der Veröffentlichung von "Le Grand Voyage" im Jahr 2019 sind die französischen Post-Prog-Metal-Art-Rocker Klone weltweit zu neuen Höhen aufgestiegen, tourten in Europa, den USA, Australien und Mexiko an der Seite von Bands wie Devin Townsend, Leprous, Riverside, Pain of Salvation und Gojira und begeisterten die Festivalbesucher beim Hellfest 2024, Prog Power USA, Midsummer Prog und Cruise to the Edge. Nach ihrem phänomenalen Album "Meanwhile" aus dem Jahr 2023 ist das Album ein neues Meisterwerk in Sachen Performance und Produktion, bei dem Klone ihre jahrelange Erfahrung voll auspielen. Mit jedem Mitglied und jedem Instrument, das bis an seine Ausdrucksgrenze getrieben wird, hat das Album eine Kraft und Intensität, die sich, obwohl sie manchmal rau ist, gleichzeitig natürlich, kohärent und einheitlich anfühlt, da sich die Band von Motiv und Melodie als Einheit bewegt, Wie immer geleitet von der unverwechselbaren Stimme und Vision von Yann Ligner. Mit 25 Jahren Musik im Rücken scheint es passend, dass "The Unseen" auch die 10. vollständige Veröffentlichung von Klone ist. Das Album ist ein Meilenstein, welches Reflexionen über die Vergangenheit als Mittel nutzt, um die Schönheit der Gegenwart zu würdigen, wobei die Band ihre gemeinsame jahrzehntelange Kreativität und Zusammenarbeit nutzt, um aufschlussreiche neue Perspektiven für das Hier und Jetzt zu bieten.

Die französische Alternative Art-Rock-Band Klone kehrt mit ihrem 10. Album "The Unseen" zurück und treibt ihren ohnehin schon üppigen Sound in schwindelerregende, magische Höhen. "The Unseen" ist eine kühne neue Reise durch eine einzigartige und doch kontrastreiche Klanglandschaft, eine immersive, traumhafte Erfahrung, die von der Bedeutung von Dingen spricht, die auf den ersten Blick keine Bedeutung zu haben scheinen. Emotional wie konzeptionell haben Klone wieder einmal neue klangliche Wege beschritten und ihren charakteristischen doch weiten Sound ausgebaut. Seit der Veröffentlichung von "Le Grand Voyage" im Jahr 2019 sind die französischen Post-Prog-Metal-Art-Rocker Klone weltweit zu neuen Höhen aufgestiegen, tourten in Europa, den USA, Australien und Mexiko an der Seite von Bands wie Devin Townsend, Leprous, Riverside, Pain of Salvation und Gojira und begeisterten die Festivalbesucher beim Hellfest 2024, Prog Power USA, Midsummer Prog und Cruise to the Edge. Nach ihrem phänomenalen Album "Meanwhile" aus dem Jahr 2023 ist das Album ein neues Meisterwerk in Sachen Performance und Produktion, bei dem Klone ihre jahrelange Erfahrung voll auspielen. Mit jedem Mitglied und jedem Instrument, das bis an seine Ausdrucksgrenze getrieben wird, hat das Album eine Kraft und Intensität, die sich, obwohl sie manchmal rau ist, gleichzeitig natürlich, kohärent und einheitlich anfühlt, da sich die Band von Motiv und Melodie als Einheit bewegt, Wie immer geleitet von der unverwechselbaren Stimme und Vision von Yann Ligner. Mit 25 Jahren Musik im Rücken scheint es passend, dass "The Unseen" auch die 10. vollständige Veröffentlichung von Klone ist. Das Album ist ein Meilenstein, welches Reflexionen über die Vergangenheit als Mittel nutzt, um die Schönheit der Gegenwart zu würdigen, wobei die Band ihre gemeinsame jahrzehntelange Kreativität und Zusammenarbeit nutzt, um aufschlussreiche neue Perspektiven für das Hier und Jetzt zu bieten.

IOTUNN means Giant! IOTUNN's Metal Blade Records debut "Access All Worlds" is an epic; a cosmic and contemplative journey of energetic beauty and ferocity that reflects on human existence set in a story line following daring space travelers. The music is grounded in roaring, colorful drumming and crushing bass, while the sonic horizon is painted with a vast spectrum of guitar-driven expression, all over arched by narration through diverse vocals.

Jawad Nawfal and Mazen El Sayed, better known by their stage names of MUNMA and EL RASS, met for the first time in Beirut, during the summer of 2011. A common friend told Jawad wonders about an MC who rapped and slammed in the classical Arabic language, as opposed to the vernacular Lebanese dialect. The two musicians met in a small café in Beirut’s Hamra neighborhood, spoke of music, argued about politics, and decided to collaborate at once. They began working on tracks the following day. A month later, they had already produced a dozen sketches, instrumental beds and accapella vocal tracks. These demos eventually landed in the hands of Ziad Nawfal and Fadi Tabbal, who set out to bring to life the duo’s first recorded album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” (the title is from a Sufi master-work penned some 900 years ago) was eventually released as a limited edition of 500 CD’s, during a launch event at then-budding alternative venue Metro al Madina in Hamra, on the 22nd of February 2012. These CDs went out of print in record time, as can be expected, and the album’s mythical status became reinforced over time – El Rass & Munma collaborated sporadically during the next ten years, but never fully grasped the level of musical intensity and explosive tension attained on this first outing. It has been a longstanding dream of ours, here at Ruptured, to produce a vinyl version of this album, and we are thrilled to say this moment has finally come. Artist ALI RAFEI’s original artworks have been painstakingly reproduced, the music has been dutifully remastered for vinyl by CEDRIK FERMONT, and the records were pressed by our friends at Mother Tongue in Verona. We added bonus track "Fi Kala'at Tarablus" to this 10th anniversary reissue for good measure – recorded during the same sessions that yielded “Kachf el Mahjoub”, it appears on the digital version of the album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” is a landmark album in Lebanon’s alternative music scene, and the MENA region’s hiphop and indie scenes writ large. At the time of their collaboration, El Sayed was a prolific writer and musician, at ease with a variety of instruments, notorious for his masterful flow in the classical Arabic language, with lyrics tackling both social and political sensitive subjects; Nawfal has previously released an impressive number of albums and EPs, exploring downtempo electronica and ambient dubstep, for a number of Lebanese and international labels. The collision of the former’s brazen, slammed vocals and the latter’s harsh beats works wonders on “Kachf el Mahjoub”, Munma’s sound-world perfectly fitting El Rass’s agitated discourse, alternating between broken beats, elaborate percussion, and ambient layers of synths. At times reminiscent of mutant hiphop outfit Shabazz Palaces, at others of the collaboration between dubstep producer Kode9 and the late vocalist The SpaceApe, this album is an uncanny meeting of Arabic hip-hop and electronica, an exceptional event in the realm of contemporary Lebanese alternative music.

Roy Ayers' first album on the Polydor label inaugurates his music's evolution away from the more traditional jazz of his earlier Atlantic LPs toward the infectious, funk-inspired fusion. Although Ubiquity maintains one foot in Ayers' hard bop origins, it favors soulful grooves and sun-kissed textures that flirt openly with commercial tastes. AllMusic reviewer Jason Ankeny rated the album with **** out of five stars, stating that “Several cuts feature the male/female vocals that would become a hallmark of subsequent works by the same group, while mid-tempo instrumentals like ‘Pretty Brown Skin’ and ‘The Painted Desert’ feature evocatively cinematic arrangements and intriguing solos that unfurl like psychedelic freak flags. The crack supporting cast including bassist John Williams, keyboardist Harry Whitaker, and drummer Alphonso Mouzon proves equally effective on high-energy numbers like ‘Can You Dig It’ and the Nat Adderley-penned ‘Hummin' in the Sun,’ which point the way to the mind-expanding funk Ayers would perfect across the sessions to follow. An outstanding record.”

US Heavy Music Act CANE HILL melden sich endlich mit ihrer neuen, lang ersehnten LP “a piece of n ihrer nunmehr 13-jährigen Karriere haben Cane Hill immer wieder gezeigt, wie musikalisch divers sie sein können. Von Metalcore, über Nu-Metal, Industrial Metal und Alt-Rock ist alles dabei und nun beschenkt das Alt-Metal Quartett um Frontmann Elijah Witt uns mit ihrem neuen Longplayer aus 11 neuen Tracks, darunter die neuesten Singles “The Midnight Sun” und “Fade”.

“Ich habe diesen Song geschrieben, als ich wahnsinnig verliebt in jemanden war. Mittlerweile sind wir uns Fremde, aber ich glaube, hätten wir uns nie getroffen, wäre dieser Song nicht das geworden, was er nun ist. Musik kann so schön ironisch sein”. — Elijah Barnett über “Fade”

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

"Mrs. Ladyships and the Cleanerhouse Boys" are your new favorite MOD heart throbs. Is there REALLY a new Merseybeat Revolution? How many times can you really REALLY watch The Blow-Up alone in your room? Why don't you venture out the front door and take a bite of the real thing? The Smashing Times are a mainstay in the indie pop underground. The group mistrals the new modern life perfectly, the sharper world. collaged with 12 string guitar and mallet on the floor tom. 14 tracks 33RPM.

SYML—Welsh for “simple”—makes music that taps into the instincts that drive us to places of sanctuary, whether that be a place or a person. Born and raised in Seattle, Brian Fennell studied piano and became a self-taught producer, programmer, and guitarist. This May marked the fifth anniversary of his self-titled debut album, which included the platinum-selling song “Where’s My Love” and the Gold Record fan favorite, “Girl,” and one year since his sophomore album, The Day My Father Died, which was recorded and produced with fellow Seattle-native Phil Ek (Band of Horses, Father John Misty, Fleet Foxes) and features Elbow’s Guy Garvey, Lucius, Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek, and Charlotte Lawrence. In the last year, he was also featured on Lana Del Rey’s song, “Paris, TX,” from her Grammy-nominated album Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, and realized several other notable collaborations including UK-electronic artist George Fitzgerald, Latin Grammy-nominated Colombian artist Elsa Y Elmar. In February 2024, he launched his imprint, FIN. Recordings, a new venture in collaboration with his label, Nettwerk Music Group, and management team, Good Harbor Music. Says Fennell about Infinity, “Sometimes, songs are wandering souls with no home, and it’s not until enough of them are written that the home is realized. I have a proud obsession with all things apocalyptic and the doom and wonder of an ever-expanding universe. This group of songs is an ode to the absurdity of human existence and my fondness for it. My inspirations were very cinematic ranging from big blaring soundscapes to more gentle, dusty settings like Ennio Morricone was so gifted in painting. I am fascinated by what humans are capable of, especially the stories we tell ourselves to explain our world and the space around it. Importantly, I am thankful for the creative space to make art without rules or expectation.

On How It Ends (?), slinky melodies snake through nocturnal atmospherics, drawing you into a world built on poetic, painterly lyricism. Night Crickets, a long-distance groove affair that materialized during the drawn-out days of lockdown, has emerged once again to soundtrack our waking dreams.

David J (Bauhaus, Love & Rockets), Victor DeLorenzo (Violent Femmes) and multi-instrumentalist Darwin Meiners spearhead a loose collective of like-minded creative souls whom, through sheer tenacity and a burning desire to collaborate and create, transcend the restrictions of space and time. Audio files shared from Los Angeles to Milwaukee, from London to the San Francisco Bay, and the ghosts of Candlestick Park shimmer through the fog, coalescing in a glorious ‘gesamtkunstwerk’ that draws from the past, the present and the imagined future.

Declaring Bauhaus, Love And Rockets, and Violent Femmes iconic, foundational bands in the history of alternative music would receive little pushback from those in the know. San Francisco born artist Darwin Meiners is a fan of all three. A chance meeting with David J grew into a friendship, and Darwin not only became a bandmate, but his manager. After reaching out to Victor DeLorenzo through e-mail, Darwin met the Violent Femmes drummer after their set at Coachella. Soon, after the three collaborated on Darwin’s 2014 release Souvenir.

As the pandemic took hold, Darwin was looking for a new project to occupy the lock down time and approached Victor, who was keen to proceed and suggested that David join as well. The musical trust established between these three was immediate and Night Crickets were born. Within weeks a global process was initiated between them, the recordings eventually forming the album, A Free Society.

Following that release, inspired by how well – and quickly – they all worked together, the trio kept up their collaboration. “We are each free to discover musical connections that could only exist in an ideal creative setting” explains Victor. “We are very lucky to have three musicians who write, sing and play various instruments in one trio… our egos seem to melt into one when we face musical decisions, so our expeditions are always filled with pure discovery, humor and drive!”

How It Ends (?) was crafted with the same collaborative spirit as A Free Society. Each member contributed contributed unique elements to spur their collective creativity—whether a drum pattern, a lyrical concept, or a musical idea—and together, they expanded these initial sparks into the finished work. True to their approach, much of what you hear was captured in the first take, reflecting a genuine, unfiltered moment.

The music on the How It Ends (?) is a true evolution of the debut album. It is deeper and darker. Having said that, the dark tone is alleviated by a healthy measure of the buoyant, bouncy and melodic. “Much of the new material is very psychedelic and the contrast between this heavy, dark psychedelia and the more uplifting pop elements puts me in mind of The Beatles’ ‘Revolver’ album to some degree,” tells David J. “The recording process for the new album was exactly the same as the first in that we all recorded remotely, taking turns to share files and reacting spontaneously to the previous track, overdubbing then passing on once again until we all felt that the track was done.”

“While we didn’t start with a specific theme, the album emerged as a contemplative exploration of endings” says Darwin. “It touches on the loss of individuals, the shifting of ideas, and the fragility of systems. Beneath this sense of darkness and finality, however, there are threads of beauty and glimpses of hope. We invite you to immerse yourself in the album and experience the journey we’ve embarked upon.”

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

To continue our LP series, this time we are welcoming back Δ which will mark a second full album on the label. The mysterious dirty D has prepared a 9-track LP to once again showcase his ability to be able to immerse himself in the mystic of the electronic groove. To have this artist come up for the label once again with the biggest work to date is an incredible honor and the testament to the synergy of older sound and newer that aims be a powerful tale on the modern dancefloor. “Garbage World” is what the story is about, provoking a thought of the population that made it this way with their over consumption, greed and neglection of the beautiful things that deserve love and care in life. Our globe that induced a great level of pain due to its inhabitants and still manages to hold it together despite bleeding profoundly. This has been illustrated by the art of our visual guru Geka in the style of the art of tattoo. The LP is not guaranteed to fix it, but for sure should make it a little bit better in right hands and minds.

2024 Reissue

The second album of songs resulting from the collaboration between Teho Teardo and Blixa Bargeld was released in 2016, three years after the celebrated debut with "Still Smiling". Often the nature of collaborations is fleeting, usually not involving a sequel; in this case, however, we are faced with the evident settling of a bond, human and artistic, that is no longer occasional but has reinvented itself to explore other territories and will not stop there either. The album cover is inspired by the famous 1533 painting by Holbein the Younger, "The Ambassadors": a work celebrating an official visit, a meeting between two friends, the pride of their gazes still strong despite time, distance, despite everything. Teho and Blixa return with an album of new songs, sung in German, English and Italian. "Nerissimo" is the superlative of black in Italian and there is something rather black about the music on this album. Not in the sense of dark, an adjective often used to define certain sounds, but just as it happens with the colour black, which contains all other colours, so this music contains a multitude of possibilities."Nerissimo" is also the title of the track in English that opens the album and closes it, as if between two parentheses, in Italian. A temporal passage between languages that links Rome and Berlin, where the album was recorded, ever more intimately. A crossing of the last three years of work together for Teho and Blixa. This record is also a nocturnal story of apparitions, of colours that disappear from the world just by naming them, of aeroplane flights with the lights off in the cabin, of objects whose symbolism represents the passions and interests of the two artists (starting with the objects reproduced on the cover); a sort of tale through objects, continuous movements and the discovery of sounds, even random ones. Sounds intercepted in the space of these three years and which ended up on the disc as interferences that challenged the structure of some songs, resulting in their adaptation to the invasion of foreign sound bodies. "Nerissimo" does not only contain songs but also features experimental tracks, such as "Ulgæ", in which the lyrics explain, like a subtitle, the sounds that follow one another in a story.

You Are The Morning was formed amid personal upheaval in 2021. "I came out as trans to my nearest and dearest," she says, "Some did not accept me, but some did." Jasmine got divorced, and a difficult home life meant she was writing while experiencing homelessness and precarious housing, sleeping on friend's couches and relying on community support. Despite the pain of some of its background, the record is an uplifting look at t4t love. Jasmine describes her first trans romance as the first time she experienced joy in a deep sense, because of her experience of living as a woman. First single `Skin on Skin' explores the new joy of physical touch. Usually a quick writer, it's a rare song that grew over time, during which a close connection with a friend began to form. "Sticking to the physical boundaries we wanted to have with each other became increasingly difficult. We were spending lots of time together, then falling in love. This song became a celebration of healing and physical catharsis found through unrepressed queer love." The first UK signee on Saddest Factory Records, the album was produced by Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus. Jasmine and her band travelled to L.A. to record at Sound City Studios. It was made across 12 days in a highly collaborative and emotional process, and because Jasmine sees her songs as fluid and ever-changing, the recordings carry that free and spontaneous spirit. jasmine.4.t is supported by an all-trans band, Phoenix Rousiamanis contributes piano and strings, with Eden O'Brien on drums and Emily Abbott on bass. With Jasmine's voice and songwriting at the centre, the record incorporates a wider cast of voices. `Best Friend's House' features a chorus including her bandmates, Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus ("the girls and the boys"), Saddest Factory Records label-mate Claud, Becca Mancari and E.R. Fightmaster. The song carries the communal spirit of the record's creation. On the closing track, `Woman', she is backed by the Trans Chorus of Los Angeles, a cross-generational group of trans singers who, like Jasmine, use their voice as a source of communal power. The song blossoms from solo performance to wider group catharsis. All the while, Jasmine sings unwaveringly about the power of knowing yourself at a core level: "I am, in my soul, a woman". The writing of You Are The Morning pulled from dark moments to tell its story. Surrounded by friends, the recording process was full of light. Through her performances, activism and artistry, jasmine.4.t is ushering in a new dawn.

Next up on Feral Child, sees not only a second ever release from New Zealand based VOR-STELLEN but a teaming up with one of label head dom’s favourite ever labels, the mighty Flying Nun. Despite some patchy European distribution the first VS release “Parallelograms”, was a constant player at FC HQ; 4 superb tracks of super laid back, kraut flavoured slow burners, (lead track “Voyager” especially, comes hugely recommended with its accompanying film clip), so when the band OK’d a second release for Feral Child, we were stoked. Vor-stellen is the experimental project of Brendan Moran, which blends fixated guitars and drums with ad-hoc electronic layers producing perforated waves of sustain which echoes off the fourth wall. Brendan has released work previously as part of avoid!avoid (their album “Particle and Wave” was released by Flying Nun in 2016) and The Subliminals, of which Flying Nun re-released -in 2021- a vinyl edition of their highly acclaimed album “United State”. With Vor-stellen he picks up where those other projects have left off as a foray into 'kraut' inspired compositions “which seek to transform pre-determined ideas of music into open-ended sound objects, untethered from any sense of conventional outcomes”. On this, second VS record, he teams up with his Subliminal buddies once again to continue on an exploration, “folding the weird and the eerie into a dark ecology of long-sound via indefatigable environments of modulation and improvisation, creating sonic counterpoints that hinge on a reanimation of musical gestures”. The record features two side long slow builders and are released in a beautiful Brendan Moran designed sleeve.

Red Vinyl. Remastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Studio from the original analog master tapes. "Slint formed in 1986 as an outlet and pastime for four friends from Louisville, Kentucky. Their music was strange, wholly their own, sparse and tight. What immediately set them apart was their economy and precision. Slint were that rare band willing to play just one or two notes at a time and sometimes nothing at all. 1989's "Tweez" LP hints at their genius." - Steve Albini (Melody Maker, 1991). From the original bio: It's almost always muddy in the lousy little shanty town by the river. All the children's toys are old and rusty, even the plastic ones. Jimmy and Mel fashioned their own toy out of a live chicken that they stole. A knot was tied around the bird's feet with a shoe lace. The two boys painted their plaything yellow and silver and swung it around like a lasso, screaming gibberish and laughing the whole time. Mel got so excited that he wet himself. So, Jimmy slugged him square in the eye. About five or eight miles south east of the shanty town all the fellows in SLINT were suffering from headaches, except the drummer, who only got them when the others didn't. SLINT is a band from Louisville, Kentucky. tweez was its first recording.

Anna McClellan's childhood summers were spent in front of the TV, cementing a love of narrative that would later reveal itself through songwriting. By seventeen, Anna was performing original songs in her hometown of Omaha, Nebraska. Her debut album, Fire Flames, garnered attention and earned her an opening slot on a Frankie Cosmos tour, setting the stage for her subsequently adored albums, 2018's Yes and No and / saw first light, released in late 2020. Now, with her forthcoming fourth album Electric Bouquet, out October 25, 2024 via Father/Daughter Records, McClellan crafts a musical journey that unfolds like one of her cherished television series. Each track is an episode, chronicling the past four years of her life - navigating a career change, a cross-country move, and relationships gone sour. Electric Bouquet is a narrative tour de force showcasing McClellan's remarkable ability to transform life's myriad of messy experiences into captivating musical stories. While writing the album, Anna attended trade school, apprenticing to become an electrician to escape the service industry grind and secure a foundational career alongside music. Eager to break free from Omaha, she decided to take her newfound electrical skills to pursue a career in the film industry in Los Angeles, CA where she's now based. Recorded in multiple sessions in Baltimore, MD and Omaha and co-produced with long-time collaborator Ryan McKeever and Another Recording Company Studios engineer Adam Roberts, Electric Bouquet shifts seamlessly between piano-driven melodies and guitar-anchored anthems, each song a miniature universe slowly opening unto itself.

"Back in print, on purple nebula vinyl!

While the exuberance and joy of Stovall dealt with vocalist/guitarist Nathan Hardy’s wide-eyed wonder at a world previously obscured by a strict religious upbringing and his time as a Mormon missionary – songs of innocence, if you will – Much Love details the aftermath once that awestruck amazement has been dampened by the harsh realities of life.

These, then, are songs of experience, the sound of growing pains (with the emphasis very much on the pain), on the trials and tribulations that come after the euphoria of freedom. That’s not to say that the first album was devoid of drama, because it was full of it, but the ten tracks that make up Much Love certainly traverse darker, more unstable territory by confronting the very existence and notion of life as Hardy once knew it.

Recorded and produced, like Stovall, by Travis Hill, Much Love is a more abrasive, rawer set of songs than its predecessor, more The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me than Deja Entendu. Yes, Microwave are very much still recognizable as the same band, but at the same time these songs are a conscious evolution of their sound."

"“There are times in life when you’re so present, so fully immersed in the moment that you can catch a glimpse of another universe, of a realm beyond our own,” says Louisa Stancioff. “It might last for a second or an hour, it might come in the midst of bliss or sadness, you might be alone or with a lover, but when it happens, there’s nothing quite like it.”

When We Were Looking, Stancioff’s stunning Yep Roc debut, is full of those moments. Written and recorded through a period of deep heartbreak and uncertainty, the collection is the raw and unflinching work of a nomadic soul who spent stints living in Alaska, California, New York, and North Carolina before returning home to her native Maine, one that holds nothing back in its bittersweet reckonings with pain, healing, acceptance, and growth. Stancioff writes with a cinematic eye here, conjuring up richly detailed stagings for her emotionally-charged character studies, and the guitar-and-synth-focused arrangements are immersive and nuanced to match, thanks in part to the evocative sonic landscaping of producer/keyboardist Sam Kassirer (Josh Ritter, Craig Finn), who proves to be an ideal creative foil on the record. Add it all up and you’ve got a dreamy, nostalgic Polaroid of an album that blurs the lines between indie stoicism and folk sincerity, a lush, cathartic work that hints at everything from Phoebe Bridgers and Arlo Parks to Big Thief and Waxahatchee as it learns to find the beauty in grief and rebirth."

The new Wolfed EP sits in the Grumpy discography as their most confident and self-flourished work to date. Delivered in the serene clarity of a vulnerable voice inviting you to share in their world, the record glitters in its yearning for another, in its most jubilant highs and successes, and its most intimate internal monologues. We fall and hit the wrong notes, say the wrong thing. But we do it for love. For Grumpy, those missteps are not avoidable speed bumps in a relationship, but the highlights of the journey itself. For in those painful moments of a relationship, we find Truth about ourselves. There is simple serenity found in realizing your imperfections the hard way. But we can't get too comfortable_ as Wolfed fades out, the jittering, chopped-up melodies leave you on edge in a delicate balance of mistrust and unease. Can we hold on to this love forever? Grumpy has the answer.