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Zweites Album des Berliner FRONTALANGRIFFes mit den illustren Gästen Walli, Sucker und Henne & Justin als Knüller obendrauf! FRONTALANGRIFF spielen Berliner Hardcore-Punk. Dreckig und schnell, so wie die Stadt ist, aus der sie kommen. Was bei einem Filmprojekt als fiktive Punkband begann, wurde Mitte 2020 real. Ralle (Rawside, Troopers), Pete (Cut My Skin, Soul For Sale) & Dima (Cut My Skin, Tilidin) holten sich Sascha (Darwins Rache) ans Mikro und es konnte losgehen. Im legendären Görli-Proberaum (Vorkriegsjugend, Jingo de Lunch) entstand in nur wenigen Wochen das erste Album. Bei Sascha in den Trailerpark Studios aufgenommen, von Matze Wendt gemastert und bei Break the Silence / Attack Records Ende 2021 erschienen. Es folgten Konzerte mit EXPLOITED, SUBHUMANS, TOXOPLASMA, RAZZIA, RAWSIDE, M.D.C., DISTURBANCE, LOIKAEMIE, OPERATION FOXLEY u.v.a.m. Das neue Album "Blutige Hände" kommt nun über Smith & Miller Records und setzt da an, wo Ihr Debütalbum endete: 17 Stücke in 34 energiegeladenen Minuten. Dringlichster Hardcore-Punk - ohne Umweg frontal nach vorn! Oxymoron's Sucker, Toxoplasma's Walli sowie Henne und Sohn Justin von Rawside lassen es sich als Gastschreier nicht nehmen, der Bande ihren Segen zu geben und Respekt zu erweisen. Starkes Stück! 400 Stück weltweit auf blutrotem 180gr schwerem Vinyl, plus A2-Poster und Insert, durchnummeriert.

Metallic Gold Vinyl! La Mano Cornuda, further (un)refined the band's sound into an absolute blast of an album that Eric Davidson (New Bomb Turks) hailed as the band's "best all-around record" in his garage-punk history We Never Learn: The Gunk Punk Undergut, 1988-2001.

Two-Piers bringt mit "Come To My World" eine kurze Geschichte und Tauchgang in die Welt des Indie-Pop, von seinen bescheidenen Anfängen in den 1980ern bis zu den vielen grossartigen Bands, die heute die Flagge hochhalten.

"Come To My World" beginnt mit coolen Bands wie Talulah Gosh, The Flatmates, Blueboy, Primal Scream, McCarthy, 14 Iced Bears und The Springfields auf bahnbrechenden DIY-Labels wie Sarah Records, The Subway Organization und Creation. Über die einflussreichen C86-Kassettenjahre gelangen wir zu den kommerzielleren Spät-1980er-Sounds von The Primitives, The Soup Dragons und The Darling Buds. Wir navigieren durch die 1990er mit der unterschätzten Brillianz von Heavenly, der florierenden schottischen Szene mit Acts wie BMX Bandits und The Vaselines, bis zum Durchbruch der Indie-Pop-Sounds von Velocity Girl und Blake Babies in den USA. In den 2000ern brachte die US-Szene exzellente Bands wie Dum Dum Girls und The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart hervor, neben Underground-Acts wie Joanna Gruesome, The Spook School und Veronica Falls. Die Zusammenstellung endet mit einem Blick in die glänzende Zukunft des Indie-Pop mit Künstlern wie The Goon Sax, The Lost Days und Ribbon Stage.

Für Indie-Pop-Liebhaber ist diese Underground-Musik seit fast 40 Jahren eine ständige Quelle der Freude. 2LP mit 34 Tracks. 2CD mit 40 Tracks.

2024 reissue of the initial edition released on Nov 2023 - blue & purple vinyls.

September 2012, the 4 turntablist djs from C2C (20syl, Greem, Atom and Pfel) released their first and only album to date : Tetr4.

This album was about to conquer the world: following heavy radio rotations with the hits "Down The Road" and "Happy", the band then toured in the biggest french venues before hitting the most renowned festival stages around the world (Coachella, Roskilde, Fuji Rock…).

For its 10th anniversary, the album comes on a new setting in its double LP vinyl version. Transparent color discs and silver sleeve to celebrate its first decade!

Free The Robots unveils the second instalment of his tribute project to his Filipino roots.

The veteran member of L.A.'s Low End Theory collective (alongside Flying Lotus, Gaslamp Killer, Daedelus, Nosaj Thing) keeps his trademark punchy drum breaks and deep bass, but this time adds 100% samples from his archipelago (percussion, tribal voices, field recordings...).

Screen-printed sleeve

"We could go so far as to say that it is the human condition to be grotesque, since the human animal is the one that does not fit in, the freak of nature who has no place in the natural order and is capable of re-combining nature's products into hideous new forms." So reckoned Mark Fisher in 'The Weird And The Eerie', which chronicled the means by which the uncanny can enter the everyday. Mwg Drwg, the second album from South Wales psychic seers Obey Cobra, is an album that dwells in exactly this kind of headspace, where the otherworldly meets the kitchen sink. Always a band who've sought out new dimensions to explore via their trademark warped post-punk, electronic and industrial influences, Obey Cobra have crafted surreal new shapes here. Taking influences as diverse as Diane Arbus, David Lynch and Sonic Youth, they balance out heaviosity and grace on the likes of the majestically discordant 'Ten Of Wands' Elsewhere, on the title track, the band sculpt a Jesus Lizard-esque rhythmic pulse, eerie vocal abstraction and the crepuscular downtempo atmosphere of Massive Attack's Mezzanine into a uniquely haunting dreamscape. Mwg Drwg is where the weird and eerie are amplified to intimidating proportions It's where grotesquely and beauty happily cohabit. It's an aural exorcism of William Friedkin proportions that demands your immediate attention.

In the heart of Offenbach, where the city's pulse synchronizes with the beat of the night, stands the illustrious Robert Johnson Club. For a quarter of a century, it has stood as a bastion of sonic exploration, a sanctuary for those who seek solace in the rhythm, and a beacon of inspiration for the global electronic music community. As it proudly raises its glass to toast 25 years of unrivaled musical excellence, the echoes of countless memories reverberate through its storied halls. To honor this landmark anniversary, „Live at Robert Johnson“ presents a kinda like masters blueprint of sound: "Tell Me Something Good - 25 Years of Famous When Dead!" This compilation, aptly named after the club's mantra, serves not only as a celebration of its rich history but also as a testament to the enduring legacy of the artists who have graced its stage. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, each track on the compilation is a sonic journey unto itself—a symphony of beats and melodies that weave together to tell the story of Robert Johnson's evolution over the past quarter-century. From the pulsating rhythms of underground techno to the ethereal melodies of deep house, the compilation encapsulates the club's eclectic spirit and unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of electronic music. But beyond the music lies something deeper—an intangible energy that permeates every aspect of Robert Johnson's existence. It's the sense of camaraderie that binds together the club's patrons and artists alike, the shared experience of losing oneself in the music, and the profound sense of belonging that transcends language and culture. As the compilation reverberates through the speakers, it serves as a rallying cry—a call to arms for all who have ever felt the transformative power of music. It's a reminder that, even in the darkest of times, there is beauty to be found in the simple act of coming together and losing oneself in the rhythm of the night. So let us raise our voices in celebration of Robert Johnson Club and the indelible mark it has left on the world of electronic music. Here's to 25 years of passion, of creativity, and of "something good" that will echo through the ages for generations to come.

Eine weitverbreitete Utopie ist die Ewigkeit. Eine andere ist das Glück. Man spielt mit dem Leben - wie gehabt und wie immer ohne Gewähr!

Manche tragen ihre Hoffnungen an die Börse, andere zur Glücksspielannahmestelle. Die Berliner Band Milliarden befindet sich auf ihrer neuen Studioeinspielung 'Lotto' in der Transitzone zwischen Kommen und Gehen. Dort, wo der Puls rauscht und Dasein Ankunft und Abschied bedeutet. Milliarden sind Ben Hartmann und Johannes Aue aus Berlin.

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Clear Vinyl+ Poster)

Eine weitverbreitete Utopie ist die Ewigkeit. Eine andere ist das Glück. Man spielt mit dem Leben - wie gehabt und wie immer ohne Gewähr!

Manche tragen ihre Hoffnungen an die Börse, andere zur Glücksspielannahmestelle. Die Berliner Band Milliarden befindet sich auf ihrer neuen Studioeinspielung 'Lotto' in der Transitzone zwischen Kommen und Gehen. Dort, wo der Puls rauscht und Dasein Ankunft und Abschied bedeutet. Milliarden sind Ben Hartmann und Johannes Aue aus Berlin.

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Clear Vinyl+ Poster)

The Rills haben sicherlich ein oder zwei Häute abgestreift, um diesen Punkt am Vorabend ihres spritzigen Debütalbums zu erreichen. Produziert von Dave McCracken (Indie-Mastermind hinter Ian Brown, dEUS, The Rifles), nehmen diese drei jungen Freunde auf "Don't Be A Stranger" die ungenutzte Energie, die sie zu viralen Sensationen und Lieblingen der Grassroots-Szene gemacht hat, und verwandeln sie in etwas Überlegteres, Vollständigeres und Herzlicheres.

- "The Rills sind eine Mischung aus einer Northern Oasis inspirierten und einer trendy Post-Punk-Band aus London. Damit schafften sie es nicht nur mit ihrer Musik, sondern auch über Tiktok zu begeistern." - Budde Talent Agency (Tourveranstalter)

Die Pop-Punk-Band State Champ kündigt ihr fünftes Album an:
Das sebstbetitelte Album State Champs sprudelt mit der Energie von The Finer Things (2013), Around the World and Back (2015) und Living Proof
(2018). Es baut auf der Grundlage von Kings of the New Age (2022) auf. Das geliebte Post-Pandemic-Album bewies, dass die Band überleben wird.
State Champs lässt sie nun aufblühen.
Songs wie „Silver Cloud“, „Clueless“, „Sobering“, „Tight Grip“, „I Still Want To“ und „Golden Years“ explodieren mit energiegeladener,
leidenschaftlicher und klug konstruierter Präzision. Obwohl die Produktion groß, fett und ausgefeilt ist, klingt sie dennoch wie eine Band, die
zusammen in einem Raum sitzt oder die Bühne teilt.

Tim Bernardes ist ein zweifach für den Latin Grammy nominierter Sänger, Songwriter, Musiker, Komponist und Produzent, eines der größten brasilianischen Musiktalente seiner Generation und ein weltweites Phänomen. Als zeitgenössischer Künstler mit tiefen Wurzeln in Brasiliens grünem musikalischen Erbe, hat Bernardes mit Künstlern wie Caetano Veloso, Maria Bethânia und dem verstorbenen großen Gal Costa zusammengearbeitet, während er den Weg für die neue brasilianische Szene ebnete und die Herzen eines weltweiten Publikums eroberte. Viele entdeckten Tim Bernardes' aufsehenerregende Stimme und seine metaphysischen Texte durch sein bahnbrechendes Album "Mil Coisas Invisíveis" (2022), aber es war sein herausragendes Debüt "Recomeçar" mit dem Bernardes die Hörer in seiner einzigartigen Klangwelt begrüßte: warm, intim, emotional, resonant, heilend. Das Album entstand hauptsächlich während einer Tournee mit seiner gefeierten Tropicalia-angehauchten Indie Band O Terno und wurde 2017 veröffentlicht. "Recomeçar" ist eine Sammlung von intimen Reflexionen über Herzschmerz und Verlust. Jetzt wieder verfügbar!

SAFI ist laut und intensiv. Ein furioses Statement wie Punk auch definiert werden kann. Ambivalenz und Zerrissenheit sind Ausgangspunkt, die kombinierte Virtuosität aus viereinhalb Oktaven Stimmumfang und dem Kunstdiplom sind das Fundament. SAFI zeigt ihr Gesicht mit schnörkelloser Geradlinigkeit, pur, groß. Umarmt von einer gewaltigen Klangmauer. Krachsituation. SAFIs drittes Studioalbum wurde vom Berliner Soundkreateur Moses Schneider produziert (Tocotronic, Ätna, u. v. m.). Gäste sind u.a. Dennis Lyxzén (Refused), Sebastian Madsen (Madsen) und Rummelsnuff.

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?