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When we think of the phrase Bonded By Blood, we think of two things: a brotherhood that is meant to outlast the trials of war, pain, and time... and the almighty EXODUS. With a bond forged in youth and decades-old friendship, the undisputed masters of thrash metal return with their eleventh studio album: PERSONA NON GRATA. Literally translating to “an unwelcome” or “unacceptable” person, PERSONA NON GRATA touches on themes of modern societal disgust and degradation. “The people that disgust you - cut ‘em out like cancer,” explains guitarist Gary Holt. “Who is that person? It could be anybody. That’s up to the listener. Who is ‘Persona Non Grata’ to them?”

For decades, EXODUS has impressed us with the ability to attract opposing factions to their music because of its intensity and versatility. A track like “The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves” was inspired by the riots both in theme, and sound. “Without seeming insensitive to the riots, the song is tongue in cheek about what the people beating on the rioters were expecting to happen. Did you think you would beat a smile onto their face? At 3 minutes in length, it’s probably the shortest EXODUS song we’ve ever done. It gets in, gets out, and is just crushing,” describes Holt. While most of the songs do run on the shorter side, this album also comes equipped with crushing, epic tracks.

Whether it’s the music industry gossip sites, or the big players like CNN and FOX, we’re all aware of how news outlets love to set little rat traps; “Clickbait” discusses their methods of picking things out of context to grab your attention, add to their page views, and increase their revenue all while riling up your emotions. “It’s all journalistic dishonesty,” explains Holt, “it’s a modern-day version of Al Capone’s vault, everyone tunes in, and then there’s NOTHING.“ Evenly balanced with extraordinary speed and tremendous, catchy choruses, “Clickbait” is a song that explodes with vigorous energy. “As heavy as this album is, and it’s heavy as fuck, if times were different and there was still metal radio, this song, and probably over half the album, has single capabilities.”

Sitting as the second to last song on the album, “The Fires of Division” keeps PERSONA NON GRATA strong all the way through. “This album doesn’t operate on the normal parameters,” describes Holt, “we didn’t frontload this one, it’s strong right through to the end. It’s supposed to be a musical journey as the songs segway together.”

For the third time in the band’s history, EXODUS returned to Swedish artist Par Olofsson to create the album artwork PERSONA NON GRATA. “After this album, I feel like we probably won’t work with anyone else again, Par just gets it,” states Holt. A three-faced, winged creature sits atop a bloody pile of diseased and rotting humans as they scream in pain and reach their hands up desperately towards the beast. Undead riot cops beat mercilessly, and senselessly upon this pile of the dying and the world is red with fresh, sopping blood. “Is it an angel, a demon? Is the world being created or destroyed,” asks Holt, “you don’t really know.”

EXODUS don’t fall into the usual recording slump that most bands get stuck in. Gathering at Tom Hunting’s house up in the mountains, they avoided the need to book studio time or adhere to a certain schedule. “At first it was just Tom, myself, a half stack, and a drum kit; we call it jam camp. We lived there. We built the studio, we immersed ourselves in it. Number one, because we still enjoy each other’s company enough to do it. When we’re not actively rehearsing or recording, we’re still sitting there talking about the songs, working on them, plucking on acoustics until things really work,” explains Holt, “we’re not settling.” Working from three home-built studios, the band recorded PERSONA NON GRATA themselves with the help of Andy Sneap on mixing and mastering and with Steve Lagudi at the helm of engineering.

“As a band, I’m super grateful. I’ve seen a lot of things around the world and we’re still a band that loves each other, have each other’s back, and we genuinely like to hang out with each other,” explains Holt. “Take it how you will, but I’m this band’s biggest fan. We write songs that are designed to make us feel fired up - that’s why it’s still heavy.”

“The Death Of Meaning” is the translated rendering of the new Gnod album’s title, and this also reflects its creation. As Paddy Shine of Gnod notes: “I think the title sums it up well because this album was coming together at a time when confusion was king for us all - still is. I think we can all relate to that. This record is a really strange beast because of the big change that happened between mixing and recording. I think the title really does sum up the vibe of ‘What the Fuck’? Maybe we should have called it that! ”Wielding the taut, stripped-down and bludgeoning sound that had evolved on 2017’s ‘Just Say No The Psycho Right-Wing Capitalist Fascist Industrial Death Machine’ and 2018’s ‘Chapel Perilous’, Gnod initially recorded the tracks for ‘La Mort Du Sens’ around the Christmas period of 2019. Nonetheless, the arrival of the pandemic took the record on another course, adding to a turbulent and cathartic vitality that electrifies the likes of the caustic Melvins-in-hell assault of ‘Pink Champagne Blues’ and the post-punk angularity of ‘The Whip And The Tongue’ with a fearsome elemental charge Masters of an approach which manages to be both unmistakeable and unpredictable. Gnod are now well established as prophets of the dispossessed. ‘La Mort Du Sens’ is no less than another relentlessly invigorating stop off on their wild ride to who knows where. “Got No Obvious Destination, innit”

There are records with empathy, records which are your friends and then there's the others... There might be little difference between them, a certain "je ne sais quoi", an "almost nothing but still something" which makes the difference between almost pointless and vital records. Despite, or rather thanks to his cynical despair, Matt Elliott's music never holds up a moralizing mirror to us - on the contrary, it creates a compassionate dialogue with listeners like the rhythm of two steps that synchronize to become as one. In 2016, Matt Elliot brought out his seventh solo album The Calm Before whose obscure title is neither exactly threatening nor comforting... the calm before what? Before the storm for sure but maybe also before the great record, the immediate classic we felt might be coming for a long time in the dual discography of the Bristol-born artist working under his own name and his electronic alias Third Eye Foundation. The elegant details and perspectives of Little Lost Soul (2000) already hinted at the upcoming masterpiece from the English singer-songwriter. The Mess We Made (2003) was Matt Elliott's first solo album and portrayed a universe in a kind of flight towards Balkan horizons made up of visceral despair. With the Songs trilogy, he put aside the electronic side of his work to continue working with a minimalist, stark and lucid style of writing. The Broken Man (2012) was full of tears and long laments sometimes carried by Katia Labèque's piano on a record which painted new shades of grey. On this record Matt began working with the producer, arranger and multi-instrumentalist David Chalmin (La Terre Invisible) who has kept on collaborating with the Bristol-born singer since then. Their partnership continued on Only Myocardial Infection Can Break Your Heart (2013) and The Calm Before (2016). Stéphane Grégoire is the head of the Ici D'Ailleurs label which has accompanied Matt Elliott since 2005 and perhaps he describes this album the best: "This new record by Matt is without a doubt his best album to date, a record that takes him into another dimension where he fully asserts himself as a songwriter and singer of the calibre of artists like Bill Callahan, Leonard Cohen or Johnny Cash." Matt Elliott's other records all seemed like empathic links between each other. Farewell To All We Know is an instant classic based on the sensitive piano and superb arrangements of David Chalmin, the sensitive cello of Gaspar Claus, the subtle bass of Jeff Hallam (who has also played with Dominique A and John Parish). There is a clear form of alchemy in all of this and still we find Matt Elliott's usual atmospheres and scenery, the same Eastern European folk music, long songs that take time to settle over time. Everything is the same but also is transfigured. By making his music stark and purifying and redefining the subject matter, Matt Elliott's work became so much more delicate. However this work is never frail nor really turned in on himself and thus becomes like a vital tune that vibrates and unfolds. The opening song Farewell To All We Know seems torn between the fear of what tomorrow may bring, inevitability and hope for the future in a permanent and progressive dramatic tension expressed by his Spanish guitar, the impressionist style piano and Matt's voice teetering on the edge of whispers. A funereal tribute to endless twilights and the dawns we all dream of seeing. There are touches of Leonard Cohen from Songs from a Room or Thanks For The Dance in The Day After That with Gaspar Claus's counterpoint cello. There is no spirit of resignation in Matt Elliott's work - life's path has to be followed against all odds. We have to follow the river's flow to reach the immense ocean and its infinite freedom. The haunted instrumental Guidance Is Internal harks back to the atmospheres of Howling Songs (2008) with its guitar parts full of scansions and muted threats. The music is transcendental but never seems afraid of the risk of falling. This is also what Bye Now tells us with its quasi-obsolete simplicity and sunburst melancholy reminiscent of the work of Luiz Bonfá, Bill Evans on Peace Piece or laidback crooners of the 50s. In Farewell To All We Know, Matt Elliott incessantly alternates between the dual desires to face up to the world or to protect himself from it. Hating The Player, Hating The Game is a lucid statement about the dullness of our daily lives sometimes, our right to get out of the game and no longer want to be part of it. Matt Elliott is tender but spares no one, particularly himself. Aboulia speaks of the tiredness of living and of looming death while Crisis Apparition says that there is always a time for reconstruction after chaos. This is like initially wearying wandering in the ruins of Aleppo with the slow dilution of the melody into a hallucinated drone. However the smell of great fires always fades and the earth always regenerates. Matt Elliott seems to suggest that the survival instinct is stronger than any cold winds could ever be. Matt Elliott never sings of certainties and prefers possibilities. Possibly the worst is over? Maybe... Maybe the storm has passed and devastated everything, now we just have to rebuild and live again. Farewell To All We Know shows us the distance that still needs to be walked and he walks next to you - right next to you, he is the friend who doesn't spare you the truth like all true friends really do.

When we think of the phrase Bonded By Blood, we think of two things: a brotherhood that is meant to outlast the trials of war, pain, and time... and the almighty EXODUS. With a bond forged in youth and decades-old friendship, the undisputed masters of thrash metal return with their eleventh studio album: PERSONA NON GRATA. Literally translating to “an unwelcome” or “unacceptable” person, PERSONA NON GRATA touches on themes of modern societal disgust and degradation. “The people that disgust you - cut ‘em out like cancer,” explains guitarist Gary Holt. “Who is that person? It could be anybody. That’s up to the listener. Who is ‘Persona Non Grata’ to them?”

For decades, EXODUS has impressed us with the ability to attract opposing factions to their music because of its intensity and versatility. A track like “The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves” was inspired by the riots both in theme, and sound. “Without seeming insensitive to the riots, the song is tongue in cheek about what the people beating on the rioters were expecting to happen. Did you think you would beat a smile onto their face? At 3 minutes in length, it’s probably the shortest EXODUS song we’ve ever done. It gets in, gets out, and is just crushing,” describes Holt. While most of the songs do run on the shorter side, this album also comes equipped with crushing, epic tracks.

Whether it’s the music industry gossip sites, or the big players like CNN and FOX, we’re all aware of how news outlets love to set little rat traps; “Clickbait” discusses their methods of picking things out of context to grab your attention, add to their page views, and increase their revenue all while riling up your emotions. “It’s all journalistic dishonesty,” explains Holt, “it’s a modern-day version of Al Capone’s vault, everyone tunes in, and then there’s NOTHING.“ Evenly balanced with extraordinary speed and tremendous, catchy choruses, “Clickbait” is a song that explodes with vigorous energy. “As heavy as this album is, and it’s heavy as fuck, if times were different and there was still metal radio, this song, and probably over half the album, has single capabilities.”

Sitting as the second to last song on the album, “The Fires of Division” keeps PERSONA NON GRATA strong all the way through. “This album doesn’t operate on the normal parameters,” describes Holt, “we didn’t frontload this one, it’s strong right through to the end. It’s supposed to be a musical journey as the songs segway together.”

For the third time in the band’s history, EXODUS returned to Swedish artist Par Olofsson to create the album artwork PERSONA NON GRATA. “After this album, I feel like we probably won’t work with anyone else again, Par just gets it,” states Holt. A three-faced, winged creature sits atop a bloody pile of diseased and rotting humans as they scream in pain and reach their hands up desperately towards the beast. Undead riot cops beat mercilessly, and senselessly upon this pile of the dying and the world is red with fresh, sopping blood. “Is it an angel, a demon? Is the world being created or destroyed,” asks Holt, “you don’t really know.”

EXODUS don’t fall into the usual recording slump that most bands get stuck in. Gathering at Tom Hunting’s house up in the mountains, they avoided the need to book studio time or adhere to a certain schedule. “At first it was just Tom, myself, a half stack, and a drum kit; we call it jam camp. We lived there. We built the studio, we immersed ourselves in it. Number one, because we still enjoy each other’s company enough to do it. When we’re not actively rehearsing or recording, we’re still sitting there talking about the songs, working on them, plucking on acoustics until things really work,” explains Holt, “we’re not settling.” Working from three home-built studios, the band recorded PERSONA NON GRATA themselves with the help of Andy Sneap on mixing and mastering and with Steve Lagudi at the helm of engineering.

“As a band, I’m super grateful. I’ve seen a lot of things around the world and we’re still a band that loves each other, have each other’s back, and we genuinely like to hang out with each other,” explains Holt. “Take it how you will, but I’m this band’s biggest fan. We write songs that are designed to make us feel fired up - that’s why it’s still heavy.”

James Blunt’s greatest hits album, 'The Stars Beneath My Feet (2004-2021)’ is out November 19th and celebrates songs spanning a stellar 17-year career that has spawned over 23 million album sales, a global smash hit with ‘You’re Beautiful’, two Brit Awards and two Ivor Novello Awards, as well as receiving five Grammy Award nominations.

Amongst the string of hit singles, 'The Stars Beneath My Feet (2004-2021)’ will also include four new songs (‘Love Under Pressure’, ‘Unstoppable’, ‘Adrenaline’ & ‘I Came For Love’), as well as four exclusive live performances from around the world, including the Glastonbury Festival. It also features stunning tracks from his latest Gold-selling album ‘Once Upon A Mind’, including ‘Cold’, and the heartbreaking ballad for his father, ‘Monster’.

James’ classic 2004 debut album ‘Back To Bedlam’, was recently named as one of the top ten best-selling albums of that decade, and with ‘Once Upon A Mind’, James Blunt reinforced his reputation for writing honest, emotional songs that people can easily relate to. The album marked a return to what James Blunt does best – writing classic songs that touch both the heart and the head. Another side of James - his wit and charm - have in recent times been showcased via his always engaging Twitter account. James has also announced a huge UK arena tour for 2022.

Shkema's debut EP 'Kronikos' is a double release with four originals and four remixes. The author describes it as 'world news show, where each song represents a different story'. Some of them he has experienced himself, some are hearsay from TV news programs, and some are actually imaginary. Stories are not really related - just like in the news. 'Ispanija' was created during a friend's band rehearsal. Psychedelic vocals sounded interesting in Shkema's headphones while he was watching soundless singers and the muted musicians. The true reason why this track is called 'Ispanija' is still unknown to this day. According to Shkema, 'Ola' is an allegory of Plato's cave. It's a story about prisoners, chained in the cave and the only moving thing they could see was a passing shadow - quite deep, uh? Justin Strauss and Max Pask recently have joined up to form new project Each Other. True dance floor legends delivered bass-busy remix of 'Ispanija'. It could probably be best described as 'juicy distorted badboy from New York you don't want to mess with'. Moscow's finest - Simple Symmetry - joined the pack and went back to the roots. Their remix for 'Ola' is future clubbing classic, four to the floor banger with a drop perfect for pogo.

The third release focuses on the worlds we see within.

"IVE" is a wonderful collaboration between a Local sorcerer and Rambadu. During isolation they researched ways to escape reality by traveling inward and explored the connections between our audible and visual perception.

By using the power of our voices we created an Image Visualization Environment that can bring us to many places. "Nue" represents our joy in life, the serene chants help us to cleanse our minds and in "Oiwo" we get lost in space so we can rise back into a world of light.

To support us on this journey we invited Forest On Stasys from Buenos Aires, Argentina for his interpretation. He has worked his magic giving you a warm and groovy feeling while we dance towards freedom.

Even though we live in distant places it is still possible to share and feel each other's energies.

A connection we should never forget exists.

All sleeves are hand-made with love!

Over the course of the decade, Meatbodies’ Chad Ubovich has been
a perennial candidate for MVP of West Coast’s fertile rock scene. The
LA native could be seen peeling off guitar solos in Mikal Cronin’s
backing band, supplying the Sabbath-sized low end for Ty Segall and
Charlie Moothart as the bassist for Fuzz, and, of course, fronting his
own Meatbodies. Today the recently dormant experimental noise /
freak-rock outfit has announced their return with 333—a corrosive
stew of guitar scuzz, raw acoustic rave-ups, and primitive
electronics that charts Ubovich’s journey from drug-induced darkness
to clear-eyed sobriety. 333 simultaneously reflects on how the world
he re-entered was still pretty messed up—if not more so. “These lyrics
are dark, but I think these are things that a lot of people are feeling
and going through” he says. “Here in America, we’re watching the
fall of U.S. capitalism, and 333 is a cartoonish representation of that
decline.”
In mid to late 2019, the band—Ubovich and drummer Dylan
Fujioka—had a new album in the can, ready to be mixed. But
when COVID hit, like so many other artists, they put their release
on hold as they rode out the pandemic’s first wave. During that idle
time, Ubovich discovered a cache of demos that he and Fujioka had
recorded in a bedroom back in the summer of 2018, and he really liked
what he heard. In contrast to Meatbodies’ typical full-band attack, it
was deliriously disordered. “It sounded gross, like a scary Magical
Mystery Tour,” he recalls proudly. After subjecting them to some
mixing-board freakery, Ubovich fast-tracked the songs into becoming
this third release of theirs, 333. It proves Meatbodies have greatly
expanded their palette, opening new portals to explore. And for an
album that wasn’t supposed to exist, 333 is the ultimate testament to
Meatbodies’ renewed vitality.

Ferocious Dog have been putting lockdown to good use by writing and recording their fifth studio album 'The Hope'. Instantly recognisable as a fusion of folk, punk and ska - but with newer members Ryan and Johnny really putting their stamp on evolving their sound further - the former adding much more bite to the electric guitar, with the latter juxtaposing this aggression with softer folky sounds.

The ever-present traditional cover is here, right on-trend with a sea shanty vibe, the rest of the album flows irresistibly through tales of historical observations to biting commentary on the plights facing the world today. The songs follow a rollercoaster of pace and sentiment which will have you wanting to mosh one moment before having a moment to contemplate, coupled with a surprise collaboration and an overdue catch-up with how Mairi is getting on.

A great follow-up to Fake News and Propaganda - Ferocious Dog seem to have the knack of evolving their sound enough to pique your interest, without losing any of the sound or attitude that made you fall in love with them in the first place. Once they’re allowed out to play again they’ve given themselves a real headache in trying to pick a set list from their now burgeoning back catalogue.

Ferocious Dog have been putting lockdown to good use by writing and recording their fifth studio album 'The Hope'. Instantly recognisable as a fusion of folk, punk and ska - but with newer members Ryan and Johnny really putting their stamp on evolving their sound further - the former adding much more bite to the electric guitar, with the latter juxtaposing this aggression with softer folky sounds.

The ever-present traditional cover is here, right on-trend with a sea shanty vibe, the rest of the album flows irresistibly through tales of historical observations to biting commentary on the plights facing the world today. The songs follow a rollercoaster of pace and sentiment which will have you wanting to mosh one moment before having a moment to contemplate, coupled with a surprise collaboration and an overdue catch-up with how Mairi is getting on.

A great follow-up to Fake News and Propaganda - Ferocious Dog seem to have the knack of evolving their sound enough to pique your interest, without losing any of the sound or attitude that made you fall in love with them in the first place. Once they’re allowed out to play again they’ve given themselves a real headache in trying to pick a set list from their now burgeoning back catalogue.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Operating on a plane between avant-garde indie, bubbling electronica and cosmic psychedelia, London group Voka Gentle have an addictive, amorphous sound. A three limbed beast made up of twins Ellie and Imogen Mason, and William J. Stokes, each is a multi-instrumentalist, songwriter and producer with an imperious understanding of three dimensional sound.

The newest single ‘Necrofauna / The Garden of Eden’ - features Wayne Coyne from The Flaming Lips.
The hallucinatory mix of squelching synth bass and rhythmic samples, three-tiered harmonies playing off against William’s sprechgesang, and a cutting, full-bodied drum beat is reflected in the oneiric themes.

“This song is a dream sequence about the narrator entering the Garden of Eden, the emblem of an idealised pastoral relationship with the natural world, and realising they can’t stand it and want t o consume and bring destruction to it (I see a deer pass me by and I break its neck / Rip off its hind leg and take a bite through fur, sinew and bone).”

‘Necrofauna / The Garden of Eden’ - recorded with neo - metal battalion Pigsx7 guitarist and producer Sam Grant - is the first release in earnest since 2019’s acclaimed debut album ‘Start Clanging Cymbals’, released via Nude Records. Having come through the dues - paying gestation period that leads up to a debut record, there’s a sense of liberation around this new phase for Voka Gentle - a subtle confidence in their craft. It’s well earned too - with high praise from the likes of UNCUT, MOJO and The Line of Best Fit at press. Support comes too from BBC 6 Music - including presenting an edition of Stuart Maconie’s Freak Zone - and Radio 1. Tracks from that album also featured on FIFA 19 and The Sims 2020, aiding in recognition.

A live set at the prestigious Pitchfork Avant Garde festival, as well as a clutch of tastemaker festivals in the UK (Dot to Dot , Live At Leeds, The Great Escape, Kendall Calling, Bluedot, Neighbourhood), alongside the serendipit ous shows with The Flaming Lips and













[l] d2 [When We Go, We’re Taking You All With Us!]

Ltd White vinyl LP w/ printed inner sleeve lyric insert (1000 copies ww)! Emma Ruth Rundle's forthcoming Engine of Hell is stark, intimate, and unflinching. For anyone that's endured trauma and grief, there's a beautiful solace in hearing Rundle articulate and humanize that particular type of pain not only with her words, but with her particular mysterious language of melody and timbre. The album captures a moment where a masterful songwriter strips away all flourishes and embellishments in order to make every note and word hit with maximum impact, leaving little to hide behind. "I really wanted to capture imperfection and the vulnerability of my humanity," Rundle says of the album's sonic approach. "Here are some very personal songs; here are my memories; here is me teetering on the very edge of sanity dipping my toe into the outer reaches of space and I'm taking you with me and it's very fucked up and imperfect.'" Emma Ruth Rundle has always been a multifaceted musician, equally capable of dreamy abstraction (as heard on her album Electric Guitar: One), maximalist textural explorations (see her work in Marriages, Red Sparowes, Nocturnes or collaborations with Chelsea Wolfe and Thou), and the classic singer-songwriter tradition (exemplified by Some Heavy Ocean). But on Engine of Hell, Rundle has opted to forego the full-band arrangements of her previous albums in favor of the austerity of a lone piano or guitar and her voice, which creates a kind of intimacy, as if we're sitting beside Rundle on a bench, or perhaps even playing the songs ourselves. It's an extremely up-close and personal confessional with a focus on the rich subtleties and timbre of Rundle's graceful performances. "For me this album is the end of an era to the end of a decade of making records. Things DO have to change and have changed for me since I finished recording it." In essence, Engine of Hell signifies a major turning point for Rundle as both an artist and as a person. The catharsis of this type of songwriting has effectively served its purpose, and to continue ruminating on the past going forward is less of a healing process and more like picking at a scab and refusing to let it heal. This may help explain why Rundle is less than enthusiastic about divulging the details about her muses, but it doesn't alter the fact that these songs served a purpose in their creation, and that they may continue to bring comfort to others.

Flashes of light rarely burn for long. Bush Tetras exploded into
New York in 1979 and flamed out just a few years later. Yet
somehow this lightning-quick band have risen from their own
ashes again and again for four decades. The spark that ignited
Bush Tetras tapped into a deep grid of power, fuelled by
guitarist Pat Place, singer Cynthia Sley and drummer Dee Pop.
 That chemistry is palpable on ‘Rhythm and Paranoia: The Best
of Bush Tetras’, which features 30 tracks across 2CDs in a 4-
panel digipack / 29 songs across 3LPs pressed onto 180gram
vinyl in a rigid lift-off box with lift ribbon, remastered by Carl
Saff, plus a 40-page (2CD) / 46-page (3LP) book with neverbefore-seen photos, an original essay on the band by Marc
Masters and micro essays by Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore,
R&B legend Nona Hendryx, The Clash’s Topper Headon and
more.
 From the band’s earliest recordings to their current, vital-asever incarnation, ‘Rhythm and Paranoia’ - for the first time ever
- showcases their unique, influential and body-shaking meld of
rock, punk, funk, reggae and more in one cohesive, immersive
and meticulously constructed box set.
 “Coupled with ‘Too Many Creeps’’ dancey arrangement, Sley’s
monotonous tone signaled that within the Tetras’ newly staked
safe space, misogyny wasn’t a threat: it was just a boring,
predictable damper on the party. Like the rest of their peers, this
band was over it.” - Pitchfork (The History of Feminist Punk in
33 Songs)
 “The Bush Tetras are a national treasure” - VICE
 “Renowned at the dawn of the eighties for pairing the disjoined
guitar skronk of the inaccessible No Wave scene with
irrepressible, funk-infused rhythms, the Bush Tetras were
remarkably influential without ever really receiving their due” -
The New Yorker
 “Bush Tetras bridge the gap between the Ramones and Sonic
Youth.” - NY Post





[e] 5 Cold Turkey [Live in London]










[p] 16 Mr. Lovesong [Alternate Version]













[xd] 30 Run Run Run [Live in San Francisco]

Born in 1999, Charlie Hickey grew up in South Pasadena,
just minutes from Downtown Los Angeles. Raised by two
singer-songwriter parents, Charlie’s second language was
music since day one. As early as grade school, he was
making sense of the world through songwriting, and by
middle school he was writing, recording and performing
songs that attracted a community of collaborators and could
silence a room.
 A turning point for Charlie came at around the age of
thirteen, when he covered a song by then up-and-coming
artist Phoebe Bridgers, who was still in high school herself.
The two quickly became friends and collaborators, setting
Charlie on an exciting new musical path. Years later,
Bridgers introduced Charlie to songwriter, drummer, producer
and her bandmate Marshall Vore, who noticed something
special about Charlie. The two began writing and recording
songs together, and soon Charlie dropped out of school to
work on his music full-time.
 Charlie Hickey’s first proper single was ‘No Good at Lying’
and it’s the first track on ‘Count The Stairs’. The Marshall
Vore-produced track introduces us to Charlie’s evocative
storytelling and features Phoebe Bridgers on backing vocals.
“I’m no good at lying / on my back or through my teeth / but
I’m good at dreaming / I can do it in my sleep,” he sings over
hushed guitars and a whimsical banjo, searching for truth as
his unconscious mind runs wild and bleeds into reality. It’s a
slow, quiet, and understated peek to the world of Charlie
Hickey, who is barely of legal drinking age, but taps into such
universal themes that showcase a wisdom beyond his years
and exudes promise for what’s to come.

Born in 1999, Charlie Hickey grew up in South Pasadena,
just minutes from Downtown Los Angeles. Raised by two
singer-songwriter parents, Charlie’s second language was
music since day one. As early as grade school, he was
making sense of the world through songwriting, and by
middle school he was writing, recording and performing
songs that attracted a community of collaborators and could
silence a room.
 A turning point for Charlie came at around the age of
thirteen, when he covered a song by then up-and-coming
artist Phoebe Bridgers, who was still in high school herself.
The two quickly became friends and collaborators, setting
Charlie on an exciting new musical path. Years later,
Bridgers introduced Charlie to songwriter, drummer, producer
and her bandmate Marshall Vore, who noticed something
special about Charlie. The two began writing and recording
songs together, and soon Charlie dropped out of school to
work on his music full-time.
 Charlie Hickey’s first proper single was ‘No Good at Lying’
and it’s the first track on ‘Count The Stairs’. The Marshall
Vore-produced track introduces us to Charlie’s evocative
storytelling and features Phoebe Bridgers on backing vocals.
“I’m no good at lying / on my back or through my teeth / but
I’m good at dreaming / I can do it in my sleep,” he sings over
hushed guitars and a whimsical banjo, searching for truth as
his unconscious mind runs wild and bleeds into reality. It’s a
slow, quiet, and understated peek to the world of Charlie
Hickey, who is barely of legal drinking age, but taps into such
universal themes that showcase a wisdom beyond his years
and exudes promise for what’s to come.

Muscle Shoals singer-songwriter Dylan LeBlanc releases his new EP,
‘Pastimes’, a self-produced collection of covers of songs from Glen
Campbell, Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Buffalo
Springfield and JJ Cale that inspired him to create his own acclaimed altcountry sound.
 ‘Pastimes’ is released on orange coloured vinyl.
 LeBlanc shared his thoughts about his cover of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Going to
California’: “When I was 15 years old I got my first paying gig at a local
coffee shop called Juri’s,” says LeBlanc. “I remembered this girl that sat
behind me in class and I bonded over Led Zeppelin ‘IV’. I remember I
had gotten a Led Zeppelin box set that year for Christmas, and her
favorite song was ‘Going to California’. I rushed home to learn that song
for her and spent hours in my room at my grandmother’s house where I
lived at the time so I could play it for her and impress her. This song will
always hold a special place in my heart. I love this record and this era of
music that I think will always remain untouchable forever and always.”
 Each song was chosen for its deeply personal impact: JJ Cale’s
‘Sensitive Kind’ takes LeBlanc back to the smoky dive bars his father
would bring him along to as a child. Buffalo Springfield’s ‘Expecting to
Fly’ reminds him of teenage joyrides, speeding through the country and
listening to music to escape life’s harsh realities. He learned the art of
storytelling through songs with the Rolling Stones’ haunting ‘Play With
Fire’ and Bob Dylan’s ‘Blind Willie McTell’ - a track that he compares to
reading a Southern Gothic Faulkner novel. And Glen Campbell’s ‘Gentle
on My Mind’ is a song he remembers from his early childhood, when his
grandfather, also a guitarist, would throw parties where friends would
gather to drink and sing and forget their troubles.
 ‘Pastimes’ was recorded at Fame Recording Studios in Muscle Shoals,
live and with as few takes as possible in order to capture a sense of
authenticity. Says LeBlanc, “I feel like music is nothing more than a
spiritual endeavour to widen the horizons and heighten the senses of the
things inside of everyone that sometimes feel unreachable.”
 Dylan LeBlanc has spent the last decade releasing four acclaimed
albums, winning praise for his arresting alt-country style, collaborating
with the likes of Emmylou Harris and Brittany Howard, and sharing
stages with heavyweights like Bruce Springsteen and Lucinda Williams.
 “One of modern country’s most interesting voices, in both senses of the
term.” - Uncut
 “Sublime voice and evocative songwriting.” - Nashville Scene

For the first time a Black vinyl pressing of the sold out LP of the latest Chills album. Latest studio album from the Dunedin (NZ) songsmiths helmed by the enigmatic Martin Phillipps with artwork by Trees’ David Costa. Dunedin’s finest, The Chills release their seventh studio album ‘Scatterbrain’, a glorious self-examination of Martin Phillipps’ songwriting hot (ish) on the heels of the hugely successful ‘Snowbound’ (2018) and the critically-acclaimed movie ‘The Chills: The Triumph And Tragedy Of Martin Phillipps’ a year later. “It’s about artistic integrity, self-realisation, self-acceptance and a reflection on mortality.” The Guardian…. Now in 2021, Phillipps is now taking stock of things – everything. Yes, everything. The result is this triumphant new Chills’ album ‘Scatterbrain’, a thought-provoking and evocative take from a man who has lived through good times and bad. A mature and honest reflection on life, destiny and the fate of our times delivered in beautiful melodies with Phillipps’ trademarked incisive turn of phrase. Viewed from the perspective of a man understanding his age and indeed his own mortality, the new album takes a mature look at matters arising with a side order of perspective. ‘Scatterbrain’ is a life passing before your ears as uncertainty increases and fake news rumbles on; during which aliens invade, Phillipps scales the walls beyond abandon as he probes the minutiae of worlds within worlds and the hourglass fills. A landmark album from one of the great modern song writers, it’s pure pop music for the new normal and we can’t wait to see how it ends…“This is what a living legend looks and sounds like” Rolling Stone // “An architect of New Zealand’s fabled Dunedin sound” Pitchfork

1. Some records hit you with an instant impression of timeless brilliance, and Low Life’s Dogging is one of those records, what the wise call “an instant classic”. 2. From Squats to Lots: The Agony and the XTC of Low Life is more like their second album Downer Edn (read Edition), a little more withdrawn, a little more textured. Complex. Rich. Which is to say: you’re going to need some time with it. 3. Some show, some grow. Low Life have done both. This one is a grower. Spend some time with this one. It’s got that nuanced flavour. Don’t guzzle. Sip. Savour. 4. Sip it, and sense the recurring brilliance of Mitch Tolman’s lyrics, exploring the usual territory of gutter life, lad life, punk life, low life. The dirge. Disgust and shame in white Australia. Council housing, bills piled to the neck, substance abuse and rehabilitation, the fallen lads and lasses who stood too close to the flame, loss and loneliness, from squats to lots. Un-Australian gutter symphony. 5. There is a celebration of resilience and that’s a central theme of this record and a time like ours needs a record like Agony & XTC. Low times are coming through, but if you’re low they won’t get to you. 6. Iggy Pop’s Bowie produced studio rock masterpieces ‘The Idiot’ and ‘Lust For Life’ are important reference points to the 3rd album sounds of Low Life. Here comes success! 7. ‘The Agony and Ecstasy’ is a 1985 novel by Irving Stone about the life of Italian Renaissance painter Michelangelo. Stone wrote another novel about the single eared painter Vincent Van Gogh called ‘Lust For Life’. This synchronicity hit me. 8. Iggy and the Stooges are a pretty safe reference for Low Life (and all good rock music). Iggy and the Stooges are a low life’s Michelangelo, but solo Iggy like Lust for Life is a better reference for this particular incarnation of Low Life, which is to say they are studio rock albums. 9. Bowie later referred to this period of his life as profoundly nihilistic. But Iggy looked at it as the period of his life that saved him from an early grave. This confrontation is Low life lore. 10. Let’s stick to this, because there’s something about this era of Bowie that makes sense with Low Life’s new album, particularly Low. One should never miss the Low in our new album from Low Life. Producer and studio boss Mickey Grossman has the ear for the Low, and he has carved out a little statue of David right here. 11. Mickey’s ears are recording, mixing and producing the best of Sydney, most notably the Oily Boys Cro Memory Grin. A great companion record to this one. Use Agony & XTC AFTER Oily Boys. Not on an empty stomach, and don’t try to operate heavy machinery (bobcat, bulldozer etc). 12. The relationship between Low Life and Sydney hardcore should not be understated, but it also shouldn’t guide how to listen to Agony & XTC. This is not austere, disciplined music. 13. Think, like, if Poison Idea were given the kind of studio time and budget as Happy Mondays. You wouldn’t play it to a teenager. It’s not for children. This is a mature flavour, one for the adults who have had to contend with failure and hardship, medical bills and disappointed family members, betrayed lovers and worrisome growths, police brutality and tooth decay, humiliating bowels and collapsed septums, detoxing and drying out, for those who have seen themselves as corrupted and putrid and unloveable, for those who endure all of this and aren’t willing to lie down and cop it sweet: Low Life are still here and they ain’t going nowhere. NOTES ON HOW NOT TO LISTEN TO AGONY AND XTC OF LOW LIFE: 1. Don’t think of shoe-gaze. It suggests a safe passage to 90’s reminiscences, a vogue style of our time, but nothing to do with Low Life style. Low Life style is always of its time. The content changes. Agony & XTC shares weight of records like My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and Slowdive’s Kebab, records that were laboured on after the songs were recorded, songs that were written as they were recorded. 2. We can call these “studio albums” as opposed to albums built in the heat of live performance. Studio albums from the 90’s are called shoe-gaze by some journalist nerds, but we know better than to use words like this. 3. Studio albums are excessive and, at the same time, so empty. Agony & XTC, Loveless, Kebab, Rumours: excessive! And empty. This is not to suggest this is Low Lite, some throwback, soft. A band like Low Life can make an overproduced studio rock album without having to use the word shoe-gaze. So, don’t think studio albums mean anything especially 90’s. Don’t look back. 4. Let’s lose these distasteful labels, like “shoe-gaze”, “rehab rock”, “stab”, “guitar OD overdrive”, “western Sydney wonder”. They can fade out. A low life was once referred to as a vagabond. Who uses this term today? Nobody. Language can murder. Words can die. Kill ‘em all! - Daniel 'DX' Stewart, Melbourne, 2021.