quête:quit

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Stefan Schwanders Repeat Orchestra presents “Infamous Lost Tracks”, an album appearing out of the blue, coming from spheres where time, space and Zeitgeist are nothing more than words.
With the Repeat Orchestra Schwander (who of course also is Harmonious Thelonious, A Rocket In Dub, Antonelli and a lot more) found a unique way of channeling deep House Music, a minimalistic setup and an idea of creating enjoyable music into amazing tracks that sound so effortless and natural. From first track "Call And Response" on it’s obvious that the main thing that this album is about is the groove, sometimes euphoric, sometimes quite unobtrusive but always irresistible, build from massive basslines, complex rhythms and the masterfully performed interplay of repetition and modulation. Warm harmonies, multilayered (at times quite unusual ("Nightdubbing")) melodies and subtle arrangements complete these Infamous Lost Tracks and their very own formular between Düsseldorf, Chicago and Lagos. There’s nothing harsh in this music, no aggression, still it’s far from being tame or tranquil: The pumping energy of "A Means To An End" or the sublime liquid shuffle of "Less Sensational" show the swing and kick inside these works that are made for delight but not to please.

And “Monks In A Club” is the most brilliant example of dancefloor understatement that you’ll ever hear in your life. Reduction, elegance and the right kind of mania concentrated into some minutes of pure club heaven. Handclaps, nonchalance & madness. An essential singularity and the swan song to the Repeat Orchestra, there will be no more of it. Get It And Smile.

Israeli producer Nenor delivers a 4-tracker of impeccably produced dancefloor weapons for his second outing on Razor-N-Tape.

Since releasing on Moodyman’s legendary Mahogani label a few years back and as part of duo Rabo & Snob, Nenor has been honing his craft in the studio, and now puts his skills on full display on an EP that ranges from the poppy disco house of 'How Can I Be Free' to the deep Larry Heard-esque textures of 'Do You Remember,' and the gritty underground bangers of the title track and 'Work That.' He did indeed take his time on this beautifully crafted record, and the result is something quite special.

On his latest album, 'The Sun is Shining Down', Blues legend John Mayall
teams up with a stellar cast to deliver a funky soulful affair punctuated by
brass, violins, harmonica and electric ukulele
Special guests include, The Heartbreakers' Mike Campbell, fast rising roots rocker
Marcus King, Americana icon Buddy Miller, Scarlet Rivera of Bob Dylan's Rolling
Thunder Review, Chicago blues guitar mainstay Melvin Taylor and Hawaiian
ukulele star Jake Shimabukuro. Also on hand are Mayall's longtime dynamic
Chicago rhythm section of Greg Rzab on bass guitar and Jay Davenport on drums
with Austin's multi-talented and charismatic Carolyn Wonderland on guitar.
Recorded at Robby Krieger's (The Doors) Horse Latitudes studio with Grammy
nominated Producer Eric Corne, 'The Sun is Shining Down' is Mayall's 5th studio
album for Forty Below Records, a fruitful partnership that began with 2014's A
Special Life.
"I couldn't be happier with the new record," exclaims Mayall. "I can't wait to share
it with my fans. Each one of these special guests brings something unique to the
album and our team works so well together. I think you can hear that chemistry in
the music," raves Mayall.
The album explores a range of styles and eclectic instruments with guests
Scarlet Rivera's violin, Jake Shimabukaro's electric ukulele and Mike Campbell,
Marcus King, Buddy Miller and Melvin Taylor on guitars. As significant as each of
these guest turns is, however, they can't overshadow Mayall's own spirited vocals,
iconic harmonica and lyrical keyboard work.

Alex the Fairy is an artist based in Berlin producing music with an emphasis on electronic and concrete methods. Alex the Fairy is also part of the 3Ddancer trio, a live act focusing on improvisation and expression using electronics.

Alex The Fairy writes: "I had sent The Tapeworm tracks before, but I was being difficult so was asked to send a new bunch, with a deadline. I sent the new bunch, a fairly odd collection expecting perhaps some of them to be combined with the older stuff but not seeing any coherence in them. I figured The Tapeworm would find at least something. To my surprise the suggestion that came back was exclusively the tracks I had sent the second time, and, re-listening through the tracks in this new order after returning from a Christmas dinner lying on the floor of my nephews bedroom gave them a completely new context. Despite them being quite varied in terms of age (one had been flung together a few days earlier on the train while another was approaching Schulreife) they seemed to meld together in such a way that I hardly recognised them…

Last year my grandmother died. My last grandparent. I had put off seeing her during corona, as I thought it best not to put her at risk and had almost left to visit her days before her death but had delayed my departure because of a medical appointment. My failure to her weighs heavy on my mind - fates grimacing grin: too little, too late. The approaching march of death, one generation closer was a confrontation I wasn't prepared for.

While clearing out her flat in the following weeks I had kept some of my grandfathers cassettes, live recordings of jazz greats, Pink Floyd, Sade and some classical among them, none originals, several presumably from the radio e.g. a church organ rendition of Bach. At the time I wasn't sure why I was hanging on to them, other than the urge to hoard, and that it felt wrong not at least to keep some. Half a year later, half way through mixing this cassette, suffering from my first bout of COVID, I had the insatiable urge to hook up the cassette player I had received from my grandfather after his death around nineteen years earlier and had been dragging along with me since. I stuck a cassette in only to immediately return to the safety of my covers. I began to work my way into what I had saved, hearing the fruits of my grandfathers labour decades before. It felt like quite an intimate interaction with someone I had long lost contact to/was long gone. Quite a wonderful thing, these time traveling cassettes.

I returned to the tracks to mix them shortly before my corona/cassette experience, with a new mixing console at hand. I had been looking for one for several years, but nothing had ever clicked, until I found this old broadcast desk 30 minutes from my place (it also coincided with a payment from a job the sum of which matched the price identically… fates return). Installing became a massive hassle and I doubted my decision continuously, but the further it was implemented the more it made sense. The first track I recorded with the mixer is on this cassette. Shortly before the mixing I was introduced to an Effektgerät by a friend, Rapha. Another good friend Art lent me their one, and I ended up using copious amounts of it throughout mixing, alongside my usual space creators. All the tracks on this release were mixed again on this mixer and are in a sense all a bit of a dub of the originals. I wouldn't have worked this way without the mixer, and the effect gave me a dimension I hadn't had before, so, from a technical perspective, the mixer and this effect define this release, giving it a coherence, at least for me. Emotionally of course the chaos and turbulence of the preceding year and my newfound appreciation for the medium give it a meaning I will struggle to formulate." – Alex The Fairy, Berlin, 9 May 2022

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

First Word Records is extremely delighted to present 'Torn : Tonic' — the sophomore album from singer, performer, poet and producer, Allysha Joy.

Delivered unfiltered, straight from the soul, ´Torn : Tonic' pulls us into a 10 track journey that weaves through the multiplicity of letting go, standing tall, and creating space all at once. The album's expansive and vivid exploration of healing examines the power that comes with accepting the complexity of change. Allysha walks listeners through the remedy she finds in sound and emerges empowered to share this healing with others. Deeply moving and lyrically compelling, 'Torn : Tonic' hosts a stellar line-up of artists, creating a world of collective power, growth, and hope.

Allysha Joy is an integral member of the vibrant Melbourne soul & jazz scene, well known for both her solo work and as lead vocalist for 30/70. A uniquely-talented soul, her husky voice, and formidable Fender Rhodes prowess have garnered attentive audiences around the world.

Her 2018 debut album 'Acadie : Raw' was named 'Best Soul Album' at the Music Victoria Awards, featured in Bandcamp's 'Top Soul Albums' of the year and received a nomination for 'Best Jazz Album' at the Worldwide Awards. An incredibly prolific artist, Allysha has released on labels; Rhythm Section, Gondwana, Future Classic, Total Refreshment Centre and now another drop for First Word, after her acclaimed 2020 EP, 'Light It Again'.

Allysha's production on 'Torn : Tonic' effortlessly arches across a sonic palette, comprised of shuffling broken grooves and exquisite celestial melodies. There are healthy swathes of skippy neo-soul boom bap sensibilities, entwined with stark swing-laden electronic percussion, Detroit-esque sun-saturated synths, and Antipodean bruk backbeats. And whilst this project was produced entirely by Joy herself, she is far from alone, inviting in an array of female and non-binary artists to bless assorted tracks with their own unique gifts. Ego Ella May, BINA, Rara Zulu, Belle Bangard and Dancing Water all appear, expanding upon the formulaic roles of featured artists to share the creative space as equal collaborators.

'Torn : Tonic' exudes vibes, from the opening whiplash snare of 'Peace, to the rolling jazz-bruk of lead single 'Let It!', to the sweet soulful sonics of 'Still Dreaming', to the closing triumphant shout of "All Joy!!" on 'G.N.D.', this is a 40-minute opus that will definitely require repeat listening.

Allysha's poetic introspection reveals the album's intention to demand space, purpose, and pleasure. Her words are deliberate and direct to the alarm bells and messages her artistic vision carries. Fluid, cross-genre, and spirited with generational stories embodied, 'Torn : Tonic' sits at the intersection of a feminist manifesto of Joy's momentous leap as an artist, and her exploration of what it means to be human in today's capitalist-driven world.

In Allysha's words, 'Torn : Tonic' is exactly as the name describes. "It is looking directly into the shadow of pain and overcoming it with joy. No love songs! Just social, political, emotional anthems for change! It is the first record I have produced entirely on my own and it feels like that perseverance that I have consistently had to conjure up is embedded in this music, overcoming my own conditioning in a society and industry that constantly tells me I can't, so I must!"

Landscape Tantrums Lost for two decades, the recent rediscovery of Landscape Tantrums the first attempt at recording the music that would become The Mars Volta’s De-Loused In The Comatorium revealed an important and hitherto missing chapter in the group’s evolution. Selfrecorded by Omar (assisted by Jon DeBaun) at Burbank’s Mad Dog Studios within a head spinning four days, Landscape Tantrums captures De-Loused in somewhat embryonic form, though much of what would make The Mars Volta’s debut album such an electrifying, sublime experience was already in place: the fearless invention, the fusion of futurist rock elements and traditions from outside of the rock orthodoxy, the sense of virtuosity working in service of emotional effect. From a distance, The Mars Volta must have seemed as if they were on a high when they walked into the studio to record what they expected to be their debut album (“I didn’t think of it as demos or a dry run,” Omar says). The group had recently played the Coachella festival to rave reviews, a vindication of the quixotic risk Omar and Cedric had taken, quitting At The Drive In to lead such an uncompromising musical proposition.






Their debut EP, Tremulant, had similarly signalled their singular vision, and been rewarded with similarly positive feedback. But the truth was that The Mars Volta entered Mad Dog in tatters, scarcely believing anything other than failure lay within their reach. They’d recently lost their bassist, Eva Gardner, and parted ways with keyboard play Ikey Owens. Tensions were brewing with drummer Jon Theodore, too himself a replacement for founding drummer Blake Fleming Omar questioning Theodore’s commitment to the group. And sound manipulator Jeremy Michael Ward’s drug problem had gotten so far out of hand that he’d been sent to rehab, and wouldn’t return until two days into the Landscape Tantrums. The pressure upon Omar was intense, and it began to manifest in the form of physical and emotional breakdowns. His art was his life, but now he began to wonder if it was actually going to kill him. Under such heavy manners, miracles occurred at Mad Dog. Surely that’s the only way to describe the music contained on Landscape Tantrums, as Omar fashioned early versions of Inertiatic ESP, Drunkship Of Lanterns and Eriatarka that rivalled the Rick Rubin produced versions that ended up on De- Loused for intensity, precision and immediacy, as Cedric delivered a powerfully intimate reading of Televators, and as a bare bones version of the group sketched out the peaks of what would become their debut masterpiece in barely half a week, on a shoestring, and believing they wouldn’t last long enough to see it hit the shelves. Listening to Landscape Tantrums now, with the benefit of hindsight and the knowledge of what these songs will become, one notices Cedric has yet to fully find the voice that will lend The Mars Volta their devastating authority, that Eriatarka will evolve even further under Rick Rubin’s watch, and that the lyrics to De-Loused’s climactic chapter, Take The Veil Cerpin Taxt, have yet to be penned. But one also notices how lithe the group sound here, how hungry, and one appreciates the raw edge that Rubin would later polish to a venomous sharpness. More than mere historical curiosity, Landscape Tantrums is an essential text for the dedicated Mars Volta aficionado, and a breathtaking album in its own right.


[a] a1. Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of) [Unfinished Original Recordings Of De-Loused In The Comatorium]

24 Songs. A new project from The Wedding Present. A new 7” single every month throughout 2022. 24 Songs sees David Gedge writing with legendary Sleeper guitarist Jon Stewart for the first time, and a more perfect union could not have been predicted. The notion of a monthly 7” single is not new to The Wedding Present, but 24 Songs shows us that even classic concepts can be reinvented. The series also continues the band’s association with photographer Jessica McMillan, who has created stunning images and films as a visual accompaniment to the recordings. Explaining 24 Songs, David Gedge said: “In 1991, The Wedding Present were rehearsing in a studio in Yorkshire when we hit upon an idea that immediately thrilled us all. Our bass player Keith Gregory had been a member of the ‘Sub Pop Singles Club’ - a service that allowed subscribers to receive 7”s released by that Seattle label on a monthly basis. Keith wondered if we, as a band, could attempt a similar thing. In that instant, The Wedding Present’s Hit Parade series was born and, during 1992, we managed to release a brand new 7” single each and every month. “The Hit Parade went on to become something of a significant milestone in the history of the band and it’s a project about which I’m often asked. As its thirtieth anniversary approached, I began to wonder if we should celebrate it in some way. A ‘Hit Parade Part 2’ didn’t feel quite right, though. Then, someone said to me: “Other bands have released music in similar ways but there has been nothing like the Hit Parade.” And they were right! A 7” single a month seems, somehow, very ‘Wedding Present’. So, inspired by that little idea from three decades ago, we’ve embarked on this new project, 24 Songs. “Even though The Wedding Present have never been known for taking the easy route, the idea of recording 24 tracks and releasing them in this way could seem daunting to any band. However, I’ve been inspired by the music that has been written since Jon and Melanie joined the group. The thought of celebrating this exciting new line-up with an exciting new series has motivated us all… and I suppose we also didn’t want any of these songs to be hidden away in the middle of an album!”

Following on from their ground-breaking 1988 self-titled EP, Godflesh's
debut full-length was an absolute game-changer and still stands as one
of industrial metal's most defining documents to this day
Drawing from post- punk and industrial acts like; Swans, Big Black, Killing Joke
and Throbbing Gristle as much as the more metallic and punk influences that
informed guitarist/ vocalist Justin Broadrick's previous band Napalm Death, the
pounding, drum- machine powered sonic assault of 'Streetcleaner' sounded like
nothing else at the time, breaking down people's perceptions of what a metal
band could sound like. You can still feel the album's broad influence everywhere
from the dense atmospheres of post- metal to the abrasive beats of modern
industrial and techno outfits, but despite its many imitators, there's still nothing
else that quite captures the feelings of paranoia, anxiety and urban decay that
'Streetcleaner' so deftly articulates.

HIGHLIGHTS! Acting as an artistic ambassador for Cuba, the Orquesta Revé made several tours abroad, traveling to Peru in 1971. This extremely scarce LP was recorded for MAG in Lima and comprises mostly Cuban songs -like the outstanding Vicente Rojas' original 'Mi Son Combinado'- and also a rare cover of Jorge Ben's 'Domingas'. Quite an invisible record even for hardcore collectors, and almost impossible to find in any condition, "De Habana a Lima" is now reissued for the first time. More: In 1956, the percussionist and composer from Guantanamo, Elio Revé, founded the orchestra popularly known as La Revé, which in the space of a few years became the Cuban music group par excellence for foreign audiences. Elio, dubbed the father of changüí for his seminal work on this genre, is also considered one of the forerunners of salsa music and his orchestra included musicians of the stature of vocalist Ibrahim Ferrer; pianists Chucho Valdés, César Pedroso and Juan Carlos Alfonso; and bass guitarist Juan Formell, who left the group in 1969 to form Los Van Van. Acting as an artistic ambassador for Cuba, the Orquesta Revé made several tours abroad in the seventies, traveling to countries such as Spain, Belgium and the People's Republic of Angola, and these journeys are well documented on the internet. However, little is known about their trip to Peru in 1971_ The local record label MAG quickly signed the Cuban groups that arrived in the Peruvian capital and that the head of the label, Manuel Guerrero, agreed to record. The La Revé LP was followed by a Los Compadres album the following year. "De Habana a Lima..." comprises a dozen songs labeled changüis, mostly written by Cuban composers, the exception being the closing track: 'Domingas', an original song by Brazilian artist Jorge Ben. In contrast, the album opens with the distinctly Cuban song 'Guajira guantanamera'.

A question popular among followers of Thrash Metal is undeniably this, “Which is considered the fastest Thrash Metal album of all time?”. There would be a high percentage of answers supporting “Reign In Blood”, Darkness Descends” or “Pleasure To Kill”. Now here’s a startling reality. Wehrmacht’s debut album makes those albums sound as if they were meant to be listed under progressive Metal. The sheer ferocity of these guys is enough to convince you why they were considered the fastest Heavy Metal band in the underground. So what is it that makes this record worthy of being called an underground classic? Right from production to musicianship, the concoction of several different ideas results into one colossal and inevitably unique style of their own. Many of you would probably wonder that there might just be a natural leaning towards sloppy playing especially considering my description of their astoundingly fast nature earlier. But the major surprise here is that all the musicians are extremely tight and precise with no single riff, solo or beat falling out of place. Tito Matos is one of the most versatile Thrash singers one has ever heard till date. His clarity of words and ability to keep up with the rest of the band with his lightning fast singing is simply commendable. The songs in here are all ridiculously speedy pieces of Thrash Metal with practically little or no remorse for the listener. The title track with that brilliant rendition of the famously eerie “Jaws” theme kicks off the onslaught with a tearing main riff that shreds away with speed and precision. Teutonic, Bay Area and a few east coast Thrash Metal bands have been instrumental in forging the whole genre altogether but taking the intensity a couple of notches higher was undoubtedly achieved by bands like Cryptic Slaughter, Soothsayer and finally Wehrmacht. For a year that was 1987, “Shark Attack” was way ahead of its time and has been highly regarded as the release that influenced many a band in the Grindcore and Black Metal genres. To testify this statement of mine, U.K Grindcore pioneers Napalm Death have covered Wehrmacht on one of their studio compilations, thus proving the exemplary effect this band had in the years to come. Yet the irony still stands out as to why only the most devoted of Thrash Metal/Crossover freaks know about this band. As for some of you guys, quit wasting your time listening to the senseless offshoots of Grindcore and shitty Black Metal and get a hold of this classic instead.

The English new wave band Bow Wow Wow was created by Malcolm McLaren in 1980. McLaren was an impresario and best known as the manager of the New York Dolls and the Sex Pistols. He recruited members of Adam and the Ants to support the 13 year old vocalist Annabella Lwin. A year after, they released their debut album on RCA Records, titled See Jungle! See Jungle! Go Join Your Gang Yeah, City All Over! Go Ape Crazy! In support of the album, the band opened for The Pretenders and The Police in the US, in Europe for Queen and in Japan for Madness. Vive Le Rock named it one of the 50 greatest new wave albums and the featured single “Go Wild In The Country” was their first UK top 10 hit single.

The cover photograph depicts the band recreating Édouard Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, on which the 14-year-old Annabella posed nude. It caused quite an outrage, but the initiated Scotland Yard investigation led nowhere eventually.

See Jungle! See Jungle! Go Join Your Gang Yeah! CityAll Over! GoApe Crazy! is available as a limited edition of 2000 individually numbered copies on green & yellow marbled vinyl.

 “As a human being it’s really important to feel and express
emotions whether happy or sad,” says Hiro Amamiya, the
Teleman drummer whose solo guise is Hiro Ama. “I sometimes
struggle to and so these are a collection of songs that explore
different emotions. I want people to feel something through my
music so I called this EP ‘Animal Emotions’.”
 Amamiya follows up on swiftly on 2020’s field recording-heavy
EP ‘Uncertainty’ with a record made in his bedroom and during
a time of introspection to create something even more personal.
“On ‘Uncertainty’ I was using sounds from everywhere and
whatever sounded good,” he says. “But for ‘Animal Emotions’ I
stuck with fewer instruments so the EP feels much more united.
I also used more acoustic instruments as I sometimes feel
electronic music in general lacks some organic and human
elements so I tried to make this EP as organic as possible.”
 However, buried beneath the warm electronics, gently pulsing
grooves, infectious melodies and immersive soundscapes - that
veer from disco strut to IDM via jazz-laced ambient - you’ll still
find some field recordings. “You might not hear them as
obviously as on my previous EP but field recordings are there,”
he says. “I like them because it's very spontaneous and gives
some human feel. It also adds some air to a recording which I
quite like.” On the opener ‘Free Soul’ - which marries funk bass
with subtle electronics and squelchy grooves - you can hear a
voice sample of a woman from Southeast Asia singing a lullaby.
 “I wanted to make an up-tempo and danceable song so I can
dance in my room during the lockdown. I got lost in Jazz music
the last couple of years and it really changed and opened up
the way I make music.” The moods, tones and emotions on the
EP shift as seamlessly as the genres, never quite settling into
one single place and constantly exploring and expanding into
new musical terrain. A process mirrored by Amamiya’s own
varied influences and tastes that were funnelled into the record,
from film soundtracks to IDM to spiritual jazz such as
‘November Cotton Flower’ by Marion Brown and ‘Harvest’ by
Pharoah Sanders.

LIMITED EDITION OF 300 YELLOW VINYL COPIES

Shawn Lee follows up his country-soul solo album "Rides Again", released in 2019, with an even more personal, intriguing set of songs. The US born and London based prolific singer, songwriter, musician, producer, arranger, filmmaker and author puts the story of "Rides Yet Again" in his own words.

"When the original pandemic lockdown of 2020 ascended upon the world, I found myself like many others a prisoner in my own home. I began thinking about making new music. What do I wanna do I pondered… 'Rides Again' was a personal once in a lifetime album or was it? After some reflection, I realised there was more to this story, this sound. As I eventually crept back to my studio ducking and diving all the way, I started writing and recording new songs for Rides YET Again. The lyrics heavily informed by life during lockdown, my new dog Carla and my recent health problems. I had suffered a stroke which left me with some brain damage and I struggled with Aphasia for well over a year with extremely impaired speech. It was hard … I found solace in song and a musical context to share my ups and downs. It was a beautiful place to retreat to. John Pickup brought his brilliant orchestral treatments. Also Nichol Thomson, Tom Walsh, Mike Davis & Andy Ross blessed me with their sublime horn stylings. Suffice to say I'm really quite fond of this little record. Much love to you wherever you may be."

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

Nina Kraviz returns with a new EP inspired by 70-80s music she loves so much. On "Skyscrapers" she explores a new, more traditional approach to her songwriting. Uncovering her talent as a singer and performer, the song is a melancholic, pop-leaning anthem, showing a side of Nina Kraviz we didn't quite expect.

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Nina Kraviz returns with a new EP inspired by 70-80s music she loves so much. On "Skyscrapers" she explores a new, more traditional approach to her songwriting. Uncovering her talent as a singer and performer, the song is a melancholic, pop-leaning anthem, showing a side of Nina Kraviz we didn't quite expect.