Search:reckoning

History has proven that when the world is in flames, it ignites the empathetic artists to siren their words, music, and rhythm, to blanket our society"s fury and nurse scorched souls. The seemingly endless years of pandemic lockdown and social distancing, coupled with the turbulent plague of civil unrest and racial injustice, called on Vintage Trouble to step into their battle wear. Like so often before, they have spun records to drop onto the fighting grounds, with the intent to freeze the frame long enough to momentarily halt the warring world. And while at ease, we can freely choose to think before we strike or decide to retreat, rather than thoughtlessly charge into repeating history. This collection of heavy hymns is from the heart, and it provides a necessary rise to our ever reckoning.

Since we've known him, Robert Lloyd has made quite clear his enormous affection for the songs and sounds of Freakwater, the duo of Janet Beveridge-Bean and Catherine Irwin who've been wrongly denied their place as rightful and willful progenitors of alt-country's 'movement', which (frankly) is to their credit. Their genius in offering absolute authentic to the sound old-time Appalachian folk music with a modern façade that in no way negates tradition (one of their albums is titled Feels Like The Third Time) is unparalleled within the genre, and Freakwater remain under-appreciated. After the start of Covid, Robert dared approach Janet with the idea of recording together. Over the course of the long pandemic, songs were bandied about for months, and when recording was finally practical, a band was assembled with dates set up for a recording session in Valencia, Spain. Robert and Janet were joined by Robert's long-time ally, Pete Byrchmore, the musical foil for Robert's solo album on Virgin and a former Nightingale, Mark Bedford, the bassist for Madness and Terry Edwards' Near Jazz Experience, and Pablo Roda, Spanish mystery drummer, couldn't have worked out more perfectly. Tracks were selected without regard for collective presentation, just the goal of walking out of the studio with an album of perfect gems. Forget Lee & Nancy or George & Tammy, Rob and Janet have an immediate chemistry that only sounds long-lived - and too uniquely them to merit any comparison. The title track, Black Cat, Dark Horse is the sole Lloyd / Bean / Byrchmore composition and one of the record 's highlights. Jim Elkington, collaborator with Jeff Tweedy and Richard Thompson, contributes Heavy Reckonings and a song written with Janet, The True Lovers' Knot And The Lie, while Robert adds reworkings from past releases - Sweet Georgia Black and Black Country (with Pete) - not to mention the unreleased Eggs And Bacon. Janet brought One Shot and the unheard Freakwater song Arc Of A Smile. Covers of tunes from Dion and The Monkees and a magnificent Jon Langford song, "Tears Like Stars" round out the album. We daresay the album is among the finest you'll hear in 2023. That it doesn't fit perfectly into any preconceived genre is a testament to its quality. "Songcraft" is a word used infrequently today, yet Black Cat, Dark Horse will show that good songs endure. We're proud that Robert and Janet will find some new admirers through this album's release. The Michael Cumming / Stewart Lee film King Rocker made a case for Robert Lloyd-as-losthero; this album furthers that idea and shows a compelling side of Janet's talent and abilities which will be a surprise to her fans and serve as an entry point to exploring her many other compelling projects.

‘Deep Blue Dreams’ ist das Debütalbum des in Berlin lebenden, 26jährigen Musikers, Sängers und Produzenten Lucas Herweg alias LLUCID. Inspiriert von Vorbildern wie Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Frank Ocean oder Ty Dolla $ign, lässt LLUCID jegliche Grenzen zwischen Rap und R&B konsequent verwischen. Die 12 Songs stehen fernab aller Stil- und Genreschubladen und liefern Banger zwischen Rap und Trap, sanfte Soundwellen mit exquisiten Beats und traurigem Autotune, hymnisch-sakralen Hip-Hop und ein ungewöhnliches Duo mit der britischen Sängerin Kimbra, die mit ‘A Reckoning‘ bereits eines der Alben des Jahres veröffentlichte. Nach Kollaborationen mit Samy Deluxe, Hundreds und Wallis Bird und der ersten 6-Track-EP ‘Getting In Touch’ im Frühjahr 2022 auf Grönland pusht LLUCID jetzt konsequent sein Solowerk.

After recently releasing the critically-acclaimed Plains album (I Walked With You A Ways) with Katie Crutchfield of Waxahatchee, Jess Williamson’s Time Ain’t Accidental is the sound of a woman running into her life and art head-on. With a vocal dynamic kindred to Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, Williamson blends the emotional immediacy and story-telling of traditional country with the artful, wholly honest transmissions of songwriters like Townes Van Zandt and Terry Allen. The album's reckoning with loss, isolation, romance, and personal reclamation signals both a stylistic and tectonic shift for Williamson: from someone who once made herself small to an artist emboldened by her power as an individual.

While the hook line for this new local trio would have to be that bassist/leader Brenda Sauter used to be a member of the later-'80s incarnation of the famous Feelies (and it's notable offshoot, The Trypes), even if you didn't worship at the altar of that group (and especially if you did!), Wild Carnation is a revelation. While
the persistent, pumping beat and hard-played jangle guitars of most of the tracks here emanate from her previous band and from their forerunners, the Velvets (especially), Television,and the Byrds - Sauter's beguiling voice is perfect for the ultra-appealing pop hooks the group writes as well as the thoughtful lyrics she composes.

Way back in the 1990s, a young Delmore stumbled into now defunct NYC nightclub Wetlands (during the sadly also now defunct, NYU Independent Music Festival), just as WILD CARNATION were about to begin their set.

Having lived in NYC / Brooklyn / Hoboken the previous decade, where countless mesmerizing gigs by THE FEELIES, YUNG WU, TRYPES, and SPEED THE PLOUGH had been experienced, it was the chance to see Brenda Sauter fronting her new group that drew Delmore in. A few songs into their set, it was apparent, however, that this trio was more than a Feelies offshoot project, despite melodic similarities, and Brenda's cool vocals / presence.

WILD CARNATION played raw, loud and fast (and occasionally out of control), with Richard Barnes distorted, jangly guitar lines perfectly colliding with Brenda's propelling bass notes, while Chris O'Donovan
kept it together, while pounding the living hell out of his drums. It was a garagey, indie rock mess, more reminiscent of Hib-Tone / Chronic Town era REM, and emergent New Zealand bands like The Bats and The Clean, than The Feelies.

Delmore was smitten, and determined to sign them, despite the fact that the Delmore label did not yet exist.
In 1993, Wild Carnation's debut 7", "Dodger Blue" b/w "The Lights Are On (But No One's Home)", taken from raw home demos recorded the previous year, became the second Delmore release. A full length album was then commissioned, and an evolving Wild Carnation holed up at Mix-O-Lydian recording studios with engineer Don Sternecker (The Feelies, Speed The Plough, Wake Ooloo) to record their debut full length, Tricycle, released in 1994.

On Tricycle, the pastoral quality of their most beautiful ballads was captured perfectly, while retaining enough of the rawness of the live experience. Waves of critical acclaim followed, from now defunct publications (CMJ Jackpot! Raygun, Trouser Press) followed, including this one by Jack Rabid of The Big Takeover, written for All Music Guide:
"While the hook line for this new local trio would have to be that bassist/leader Brenda Sauter used to be a member of the later-'80s incarnation of the famous Feelies (and it's notable offshoot, The Trypes), even if you didn't worship at the altar of that group (and especially if you did!), Wild Carnation is a revelation. While the persistent, pumping beat and hard-played jangle guitars of most of the tracks here emanate from her previous band and from their forerunners, the Velvets (especially), Television,and the Byrds - Sauter's beguiling voice is perfect for the ultra-appealing pop hooks the group writes as well as the thoughtful lyrics she composes.

Trading the occasional Feelies drone for sugar-sweet melodies (yes!) and utilizing the pretty ring of the guitars to maximum effect, songs such as Wings are the perfect pop confectionery, too honeyed and
delightful to miss capturing your bending heart and too consistently insistent and edgy to be wimpy, kind of like Reckoning-era R.E.M. It's all so well captured with pristine production, with balls to match the heart, too!

And though the 12 tracks are largely cut from a similar mode, all seem special just the same on their own.
A truly shining, first-rate effort, along with Lotion's and Nyack's early EPs and the last Flower LP, the best release to come out of a New York group this decade, and exceptionally crafted at that! Do not miss."

“Before becoming a producer, I grew up with labels such as Cenobite, K.N.O.R., Cold Rush and Ruffneck Records; this emblematic 1990s hardcore sound has influenced me heavily, even though it has never explicitly featured in my music. But I feel it’s time to return from exile, and so I have started to dig up the relics and present my interpretation of that great style: The energetic kicks, the sweeping sounds, the samples. Enjoy my piece of modern arkaeology!”

End of Everything is the intrepid seventh album from Mega Bog, a nightmarish experimental pop ensemble led by Erin Elizabeth Birgy. In 2020, Birgy was surrounded by seemingly endless turmoil: mass death, a burning planet, and a personal reckoning when past traumas met fresh ones. Living in Los Angeles, against the backdrop of brilliantly horrifying forest fires, she questioned what perspective to use moving forward in such dumbfounded awe. Deciding to seize something tangible, she produced a record that spoke of surrender, of mourning, and support in the face of tumultuous self-reflection. Writing on piano and synthesizer, instead of the familiar guitar, Birgy explored a spectrum of new sounds to illuminate a state of volatility and flux that was both universal and personal. Speaking of this transition, she describes the need “to feel… instantly. I didn’t want to dig into secret codes. I no longer wanted to hide behind difficult music. I was curious to give others the same with the music I create; to make music someone could use to explore drama, playfulness, and dancing, to shake the trauma loose.” Heavy grooves, metal guitar squeals, Italo disco bass lines, rhapsodic synth layers, and huge choruses stomp around the delightfully sanguine pop drama. Where previous records stretched out into the abstract and ethereal, End of Everything delivers a hit straight to collective awareness and healing. A seemingly disparate jukebox of sounds – ranging from Thin Lizzy, Bronski Beat, Franco Battiato and Ozzy Osbourne to 90’s house classics like Haddaway’s ‘What is Love’ and Corona's ‘Rhythm of the Night’ - foregrounded a new punchy theatricality in Birgy’s music. The songs she was creating at home followed suit with bolder hooks and more dancefloor energy than she’d ever dared before.

History has proven that when the world is in flames, it ignites the empathetic artists to siren their words, music, and rhythm, to blanket our society"s fury and nurse scorched souls. The seemingly endless years of pandemic lockdown and social distancing, coupled with the turbulent plague of civil unrest and racial injustice, called on Vintage Trouble to step into their battle wear. Like so often before, they have spun records to drop onto the fighting grounds, with the intent to freeze the frame long enough to momentarily halt the warring world. And while at ease, we can freely choose to think before we strike or decide to retreat, rather than thoughtlessly charge into repeating history. This collection of heavy hymns is from the heart, and it provides a necessary rise to our ever reckoning.

"Westerman — the London-born, Athens-based pop maverick — has returned with his new album, ‘An Inbuilt Fault’.

The album's nine songs took shape throughout the depths of the pandemic and soundtrack Westerman’s reckoning with two years of intense isolation, loneliness, heartbreak, and dread. The phrase “an inbuilt fault” itself is an examination of the inherent and innate flaws that make us human – a visceral response to Westerman’s disillusionment with AI and social media during this time period.

Through it all, the album is visceral and live-sounding, full of the sound of breath and the idiosyncratic gestures of acoustic instruments. It creates a spatial feeling, sounding like musicians assembled in a room, passing evolving ideas back and forth. Co-produced with producer and percussionist James Krivchenia (Big Thief), and featuring an extended crew of Los Angeles associates, 'An Inbuilt Fault' exhibits music that is heavier and more sonically daring than Westerman’s previous releases, and it is the most adventurous and unselfconscious songwriting of Will Westerman’s career.

‘An Inbuilt Fault’ follows Westerman’s acclaimed 2020 debut ‘Your Hero Is Not Dead,’ a graceful and self-reflective project which earned him a spot as one of the most talked about new artists of the year thanks to profiles from Pitchfork (‘Rising’), Stereogum (‘Artist To Watch’), and Rolling Stone (‘Artist You Need To Know’)."

In his South London flat, James Howard gestures apologetically at the mess of books, lined A4 paper and stationary at his desk. “I butcher poetry for a living,” he explains, “It isn’t a pretty job, but someone has to do it.” This being 2022, every emerging musician needs a side-hustle to keep the house warm. In the daytime, our host writes study guides to help teachers teach poetry to pupils who would rather be elsewhere. “I make sure the poems are clinically dead by the time they reach the schools.”
An explanation punctuated by a mildly contrite shrug makes you want to lean forward and remind Howard about some of the stuff other people are doing for a living. And, more to the point, aren’t doing. Which brings us to the real matter at hand. For Howard, foregrounding his own songs hasn’t always come naturally. An enthusiastic collaborator, he made two well-received albums with his previous band Blue House and played with the likes of Rozi Plain, Alabaster dePlume and his wife Dana Gavanski, as well as running his own music night with Sam Tyler in London, Incredible Society. It’s important to mention these creative hook-ups because Howard feels that, in one way or another, they all helped to give form and shape to the lilting lunar lullabies that would ultimately comprise his ravishing solo debut Peek-A-Boo. 

Felte Records presents `Glimpse Of Heaven' - a stunning new album by the Hawaii-born, LA-based musician, singer, producer and professional mastering engineer Jess Labrador, AKA Chasms. Labrador's deeply personal work as Chasms has always felt like an unveiling. Following 2019's `The Mirage,' which was a dark, dubby meditation on grief and loss, this new album is both familiar and different. The third full-length under the Chasms name, `Glimpse of Heaven' trades in washes of reverb for starker moments of closeness and intimacy. An exploration of the personal inventory and reckoning necessary to move forward in life, the LP considers not only how we relate to the world, but more importantly how we relate to ourselves. While always distinct, you could previously detect post-punk, shoegaze, and dub sensibilities in the music. Dreamy drift tethered by skittered beats, airy vocals, and melancholic melodies are here like previous efforts too. However, at the same time, Labrador steps into new territory with an expanse of vaporous synths and samples, adding to the project's ethereal electronic pop and dubwise pulse. Lush guitars glisten throughout the album, but this time only in sparse, disciplined embellishments. `Glimpse of Heaven' is a fully realised version of Chasms beyond its influences; to say that this is a seamless evocation of such disparate sounds as Massive Attack, Basic Chanel, Sade, Seefeel and Dif Juz is to say it is wholly unique. While she continues to unfurl her thoughts, there is a shift from opening up to the listener toward allowing the listener to witness her opening to herself. Where the last Chasms record was about various kinds of collapse, `Glimpse of Heaven' is about trying to develop as a whole person. It seems to ultimately be asking whether what we want and what we need align in ways that will get us where we want to be. Can we let go of the comfort of bad habits and steer ourselves toward a less easily obtained but maybe more enduring happiness? `Glimpse of Heaven' is a Chasms record, but really it's a Jess Labrador record. This is the first release operating on her own, and it feels like that's the only way this could have been made. It finds itself in the rare company of those few records that exist within themselves; it's a complete environment. You don't need to know anything to tune in and enjoy the world that she's created. It's a record that feels indebted to itself. It offers premonitions but not directions. It gives us honesty, but doesn't claim to know exactly where that will lead.

"Denial” and "Anger" are the first and second movements in Michael Leonhart’s, The Normyn Suite #1: (Soundtrack to the Five Stages of Grieving), which is both a requiem and celebration, inspired by the life and death of Leonhart’s 15-year-old dog, a female mini dachshund named Normyn.

Suite #1 first appeared on the Michael Leonhart Orchestra 2022 album "The Normyn Suites" (Sunnyside Records) and was inspired by “The Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle,” a model introduced by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying. “The Five Stages of Grief” is a critically acclaimed study on how humans handle loss.

For Leonhart's suite in five parts, he expands the MLO’s live performance palette of brass, woodwinds and strings to include choir and found percussion over gritty breakbeat drums from Nick Movshon. Leonhart shares, “I wanted ‘Denial’ and ‘Anger’ to have an emotional tension and raw quality, almost a whiplash effect..."
The Normyn Suites is an elegy; to listen is to spend time in that space of loss, reckoning, questioning, and mourning. At the same time, though, with each note, each phrase, we are propelled back into life,” reflects author Alexandra Horowitz in the stirring liner notes.

Oceanhoarse mag ein Neuling auf dem Gebiet des Heavy Metal sein, aber schnell und laut werden sie die Szene im Sturm erobern! Die Helsinki-Band mit Ben Varon (ex-Amoral) an der Gitarre, Bassist Jyri Helko (Warmen, ex-For The Imperium), Oskari Niemi am Schlagzeug und Sänger Joonas Kosonen tourte bereits in Finnland, Tokio, Japan und ganz Europa.
Zweifellos macht die Heavy-Metal-Gruppe ein Statement gegen computerisierte Metal-Musik, bei der es schwer zu wissen ist, was real ist und was nicht: Mit Oceanhoarse, gelobt für ihre wilde Energie auf der Bühne, bekommst du, was du siehst, ohne Backing-Tracks; aber pur, roh und wild - eine Seltenheit in der Heavy-Musik-Welt heutzutage.
Im Juni 2020 veröffentlichten Oceanhoarse The Damage Is Done - LIVE!, ein Album mit 11 Straight-in-Your-Face-Heavy-Metal-Hymnen, die auf einer ausgedehnten Tournee mit Nightwish-Sänger und -Bassist Marko Hietala aufgenommen wurden. Die Singles von Oceanhoarse, die auch auf dem Soundtrack des beliebten Videospiels Wreckfest enthalten sind, wurden bereits fast zwei Millionen Mal allein auf Spotify gestreamt.
Im Jahr 2021 ging die Band mit dem deutschen Label Noble Demon einen Gang höher, das erste Studioalbum der Band veröffentlichte und das Follow-up ist bereits für Anfang 2023 geplant!


Mit ehemaligen und aktuellen Mitgliedern bekannter Bands wie Amoral, Warmen und anderen haben sich Oceanhoarse zu einer Band entwickelt, die bereit ist, die Dinge in ihrem eigenen Stil zu erkunden, anstatt sich an irgendeine Art von Durchschnittsformel zu halten. Nachdem sie 2021 ihr Debütalbum "Dead Reckoning" (Noble Demon) veröffentlicht haben, gefolgt von mehreren Single-Veröffentlichungen und ausgedehnten Tourneen, sind die aus Helsinki stammenden Vierer vielleicht einer der bemerkenswertesten und hart arbeitenden Newcomer. Also macht euch bereit für "Heads Will Roll", ein Album, das ihr im Jahr 2023 nicht verpassen solltet!
Als Bonus gibt es das Live Album von "The Damage is Done" als 2te CD dazu.

Sophomore album from the singer who NPR are calling "the Next Queen Of Americana Folk." Boomerang Town marks a bold step forward for this country-folk-leaning singer-songwriter. It is an arresting, ambitious song-cycle that explores the generational arc of family, the stranglehold of addiction, and the fragile ties that bind us together as Americans. This is a record that understands that love and grief are two sides of the same coin. Jaimee Harris turned 30 during the pandemic. It’s a milestone that is a rite of passage even during normal times. But for this Texas-born singer-songwriter, it came in the midst of one of the strangest and most tumultuous periods in American history. When the world stopped during lockdown, Harris, like many others, found herself gazing back into the past, ruminating on the nature of her hometown and family origins, and reckoning with their imprint on her. The term ‘nostalgia’ derives from the Greek words nostos (return) and algos (pain), and if Harris’s Boomerang Town can be regarded as a nostalgic album, it is only nostalgic in the sense that the longing for home is a desire to return to the past and heal old wounds. For Harris, the album began gestating around 2016, a time of great loss for many in the Americana community, with the songwriter losing several musicians close to her. The shift in the nation’s political landscape had ushered in a new level of polarization that saw whole swaths of cultural life being demonized. For someone who grew up in a small town outside of Waco, Harris believed the values instilled in her by her parents were not entirely in line with how many on the left were viewing — and vilifying — Christians, citing them as responsible for the new change in leadership. As a person in recovery, Harris has had to re-evaluate her own connection to faith and find strength in a higher power (“Though he’s not necessarily a blue-eyed Jesus,” she laughs), though she certainly knows what it’s like to “be told how to vote” in a Southern church setting. It was from the intersection of these social, personal, and political currents the album was born. And while much of the material on Boomerang Town was inspired by personal experience, the songs on this collection are far from autobiographical xeroxed copies. More than anything, they come from a place of emotional truth. “My goal is to just write the best possible song I can write,” Harris says, “and I wanted to have ten songs that made sense together sonically.

The sophomore album from the Spanish Deathcore group BONECARVER. Previously known as CANNIBAL GRANDPA and now one of the biggest metal bands in Spain. For fans of Lorna Shore, Within Destruction, Ov Sulfur

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

'Songs From Planet Earth' is Deux Furieuses' third full length album, the second with Xtra Mile Recordings. Written and recorded during the last two turbulent years, Songs From Planet Earth is a beating heart signal out from this world as we fall spinning into a vortex of pandemic, isolation, avoidable deaths, political corruption, personal mourning and ultimately survival. The album documents the journey from the city to the countryside like refugees in search of sanctuary. 'Bring Down The Government' jumps on the fuzz box to demand a reckoning for all the lives. Deux Furieuses are currently members of Brix Smith (from The Fall) band, playing guitar and drums. They are touring across the UK supporting PiL throughout June; Kendal Calling, Loud Women Festival appearances and further headline and support shows in November and December.

In a world hurtling towards new frontiers of horror on a daily basis, there’s precious little time for pause. For the self respecting artist, the only reasonable solution is psychic warfare. Such is the terrain of Petbrick on the titanic and transformative Liminal. Here on their second album the duo of Wayne Adams (Big Lad/Johnny Broke) and Iggor Cavalera (Sepultura/Cavalera Conspiracy/Soulwax) lays waste to all or any constrictions in its path, Blending a vast sonic landscape with a relentless compunction to break the pain barrier, Liminal is a dizzying exercise in overdrive which can take in industrial abrasions, pulverising rhythmic drive, acid-damaged freakery, cinematic tension and balladic gravitas in disarmingly coherent fashion. Other heads and personalities also came on board to add richness and intrigue to the onslaught - “I believe we got an amazing team of collaborators - from old school friends like Neurosis’ Steve Von Tilll and Converge’s Jacob Bannon to new school artists like Paula Rebbeledo from Rakta and New York doom rappers Lord Goat and Truck Jewelz” notes Iggor. This is an album birthed in difficult times and expressly engaged with raging against the dying of the light. As Iggor puts it “Liminal is an insane mirror of what being isolated feels like - madness through noise experimentations” An alchemical vision fit to both elevate the spirit and destroy everything in its path, ‘Liminal’ is the sound of Petbrick blasting their way through the boundaries of a fresh hell. Tracks: 01. Primer 02. Arboria 03. Pigeon Kick 04. Raijin 05. Lysergic Aura (Feat. Lord Goat & Truck Jewelz) 06. Damballa 07. Ayan 08. Grind You Dull (Feat. Jake Bannon) 09. Chemical Returns 10. Distorted Peace (Feat. Paula Rebellato) 11. Reckoning (Feat. Steve Von Till

As Spacemoth's Maryam Qudus was hard at work in her recording studio, synthesizers piled high, she found her mind in another place, hypnotized by the questions swirling inside her: “How could I ever face this world alone?” she wondered. “How long will I be able to stay in this place that I love?” Attempting to understand her position in the universe, the relationships that hold her together, and the climate crisis unfolding around her, she realized ruminating over these concerns was paradoxically taking her away from precious experiences. No Past No Future is the reckoning point between nostalgia and nihilism: the struggle to hang on to a moment as it warps in time.

Devotion to music has driven Qudus—a performer, composer, and producer based in the Bay Area—for as long as she can remember. At age twelve, she traded chores for guitar lessons; at sixteen, she took on after school jobs to pay for voice lessons. As a first-generation Afghan-American child of working-class immigrant parents, finding a place in music has been nothing short of a challenge for Qudus.

The bulk of performance on Spacemoth songs comes from Qudus herself, who favors vintage synths like the Yamaha CS-50 and Korg Polysix alongside fluttering tape manipulations; these create cosmic, lush soundbeds, drawing comparisons to beloved projects like Broadcast and Stereolab. On songs like “Waves Come Crashing,” a whirlwind of noise leads into darker, bass-heavy instrumentation as she confronts the inevitability of death: “These fears, they have taken our years,” she laments about the anxiety of mortality. On “Pipe and Pistol,” Qudus explores the experience of being an immigrant starting over in America. The song showcases punchy rhythms, reminiscent of Devo’s post-punk dynamism: “I see your face / my powers, they raise,” she sings with potency. Identifying cyclical habits inspired “Round In Loops,” which highlights patterns we endure in our lives and minds. “Boss is waiting / we run / love is fading / we run,” Qudus commands, encouraging escapism and a break to the cycle of mundanity.

Every track flows with Qudus’ low timbered vocals, in harmony with the watery, glowing synthesizers that anchor the album. The result is a record rich in intergalactic, avant-pop, radiating in astonishment at the vast, emotional landscape humans contain within ourselves, and in wonder at the preciousness of our time on earth.

Die Allgegenwärtigkeit des Todes inmitten des blühenden
Lebens und der Kreativität steht im Mittelpunkt von
SEVENTH STORM. Mike Gaspar, der fast 30 Jahre lang
den Rhythmus auf der wichtigsten portugiesischen
Metal-Galeere Moonspell vorgab, hat endlich ein neues
Ventil gefunden, um seine Liebe zum Heavy Metal, sein
kulturelles Erbe und seine Leidenschaft für ungezähmte,
wilde Musik zu zelebrieren, deren Wurzeln tief in das
Gewebe unserer Welt reichen. Hier hebt sich eine
hungrige Band empor, die ihre Seele für ihre Musik
gegeben hat. "Ich wollte ein Album schreiben, von dem
Fans aller Kulturen sagen können ?das ist für mich?",
meint er über den primären Antrieb, der hinter
"Maledictus" steht. "Mein Traum war es, etwas von
diesem unschuldigen Neunziger-Jahre-Touch
zurückzubringen und dabei traditionelle portugiesische
Musik mit Metal zu mischen." Mit Einflüssen, die von
Bathory über Samael, Tiamat, Paradise Lost, Fields of the
Nephilim, Cradle of Filth und Dead Can Dance bis hin zu
Van Halen oder Mötley Crüe reichen, machen sich
SEVENTH STORM gerade erst auf ihre Reise durch die
wilden und wundersamen Gewässer der Heavy
Metal-Geschichte. Und obwohl es kein Konzeptalbum ist,
wird "Maledictus" von einem starken Gefühl des
Schmerzes und der Wut zusammengehalten, gepaart mit
einer flackernden Hoffnung auf Vergebung für unser

Ben Harper’s new album, ‘Bloodline Maintenance’,
is a fearless and immensely soulful work, largely
inspired by the loss of a long time friend and the
lingering influence of a mercurial and charismatic
father.
 Never content to rest on his creative laurels,
Harper has continued to explore new sonic
territory. He has retained his signature lap steel
guitar but supercharged it through a coveted and
powerful Dumble amplifier, creating a far more
unruly tone.
 The album is both a political and personally
revealing work. It is soul music, but never a stylistic
tribute to some bygone era. The sound and words
are essential and undeniably timely. It is a powerful
musical reckoning.
 Ben plays guitar on Harry Styles’ new track,
‘Boyfriends’, and LeAnn Rimes’ ‘the only’. He is
opening for Harry Styles’ residency at The Forum
in LA throughout October and November.

Naomi Alligator is fed up. She’s sick of trying to make relationships work that have already run their course, and tired of sitting in a wintry apartment waiting for her life to kick into gear. On »Double Knot«, the modern folk singer/songwriter from Virginia attempts to unwind her life from all that is holding her back. In a way, it’s a coming-of-age record about shedding what no longer serves you and, ultimately, finding something like deliverance.

On the opening track, “Seasick,” Naomi Alligator is already in the midst of a sort of awakening. Right off the bat, she sings, “I don’t know what’s happened to me / It’s like I turned 16 / It’s like I grew to be 6-feet tall.” This is the announcement of a wide-eyed artist coming out of hibernation and into their own. Still, Naomi’s vocals ache with guilt and longing, belying the track’s playful catchiness. Longing for what? Maybe attention from a crush, but mostly a sunnier place to call home.

Naomi Alligator began writing Double Knot while living in Philadelphia during the height of the pandemic and the deterioration of a longterm romance. “I scream: How’d the hell I end up here? / I’m 1-inch tall, it’s crystal clear,” she chants on “Neighborhood Freak,” returning to height and size as an emotional barometer. When asked though, Naomi rejects the notion that Double Knot is a breakup album, or autobiographical at all. Moreso, she says, it’s a personal reckoning in which, “the minute before you make a big decision, you tally up the reasons why you don’t want to do what you’re doing anymore.”

That desire to turn the page expands to the production of the album as well. Naomi Alligator generally houses her narratives in beds of minimal, home-tracked instrumentation—influenced by the stripped-down poeticism of Joan Baez and Liz Phair’s Girly-Sound tapes. Double Knot finds Naomi continuing to hone the winning combination of guitar and banjo she established on 2021’s Concession Stand Girl EP. For Double Knot though, Naomi wanted a fuller, more dynamic sound: more instruments, more harmonies, more layering, more, more, more. Inspired by the impressionistic melodies of Animal Collective and MGMT, Naomi peppers in computer-generated synths throughout the album, most notably on the song “Burn Out.” These electronic flourishes augment the more grounding string instruments, arriving somewhere more ethereal than Naomi’s earlier work while still maintaining her warm songwriting.

If anything, Double Knot is a reminder that you can always pack up your bags, try something new, and change your life. As for Naomi Alligator herself? She moved west, to California.

As the daughter of a blues musician, Chastity Brown was born with an
innate ability to channel complex circumstances into beautiful, uplifting
songs
But after surviving the isolation of the early pandemic and witnessing the global
racial reckoning that manifested itself in the riots mere blocks from her South
Minneapolis home, even she is surprised to hear the way her new album 'Sing To
The Walls' turned out. "It's a love album, in a way I didn't plan on," Chastity says.
Like so many artists who endured the uncertainty of the 2020 lockdown,
Chastity's instinct was to turn inward, at first out of self- preservation, and then
because the new songs kept coming and coming. Since finishing her last album,
2017's 'Silhouette Of Sirens', she estimates she's written nearly 100 new songs,
10 of which found their way onto 'Sing To The Walls'. Produced by Brady Blades,
'Sing To The Walls' is a sonically expansive album; it mines the roots of
Americana, folk, and soul music, but Chastity's stories are delivered in a style that
feels remarkably timely, modern, and forward-thinking. "I celebrate the emotional
richness in the tradition, but in my music I've committed myself to moving
forward and reflecting the experiences of those overlooked by tradition."
Chastity Brown has been praised by NPR, CMT, American Songwriter, the London
Times, Paste Magazine, and The Independent, among many others, and appeared
on the U.K.'s Later… with Jools Holland. She tours nationally and internationally,
having shared the stage and supported artists such as the Indigo Girls, Ani Di
Franco, Andrea Gibson, Jayhawks, The National, and Micheal Kiwanuka.

Renata Zeiguer's new album 'Picnic in the Dark' - her second full length
with Northern Spy - is a sonic dreamworld infused with magical realism
that tells an extremely personal narrative
It is a culmination of a lifetime of reckoning with her past and her unwavering
resolution to transcend inherited patterns and cycles that have held her back. Coproduced with Sam Griffin Owens (Sam Evian), the twelve songs lead a mystical
conversation between characters within her psyche that all center around this
process, which she whimsically likens to the ritual of having a picnic in the dark.
Integrating her child self into her adult life with immense compassion and
enlightenment, 'Picnic in the Dark' is not only an album of exploration but one of
transformation, healing and self- actualization, all through a courageous journey
towards that extremely uncomfortable yet fertile liminal space between
familiarity and uncertainty.

Kenn hat es wieder getan... Es würde Sinn machen, sein vorheriges Werk "Dancing with the Past" als das neue Anacrusis-Album zu bezeichnen und das nicht nur, weil das meiste darauf enthaltene Material mit der Absicht geschrieben wurde, ein Comeback zu feiern. Acht Jahre später meldet sich Mr. Nardi mit einem weiteren Epos zurück, das zwar eine Stunde kürzer ist als der Vorgänger, aber von der Qualität her "Trauma" atmet seinen Nacken. Die epische Länge beider Alben sollte den Hörer aber nicht zurückhalten, denn das hier ist wirklich fesselndes Material von Anfang bis Ende, dunkle Progressive/Thrash-Scheiben, die nichts von dem vermissen lassen, was das Repertoire von Anacrusis zu einem der beliebtesten in der Szene gemacht hat. "Trauma" ist dynamischer und ein bisschen weniger atmosphärisch, was an der geringeren Anzahl der Balladen liegt. Hier sind es nur drei, die sich jeweils einem bestimmten Segment zuwenden aus dem balladesken Bereich, ansonsten bestimmt eine brachiale Kombination aus Progressive und Thrash die Handlung, das schnellere Material pulverisiert, vielschichtige Thrasher voller voller inbrünstiger Tempowechsel und abrupter Stimmungswechsel. Das Herzstück des Albums ist die 11-minütige Odyssee "The Orphan", eine zusammenfassende Reise durch alle Ecken und Winkel des des Anacrusis-Katalogs, ein fesselndes Epos, wie es Anacrusis bzw. Nardi noch nie versucht haben.

Wir wollen glauben, dass die Anacrusis-Fans bereitwillig ins Nardi-Lager gewechselt sind, das in nicht allzu regelmäßiger Folge deftige Genüsse verspricht. Das ist auch gut so, solange er einen ganzen Vormittag füllen kann, wird er bei allen ganz oben auf der Liste stehen.

Für Fans von: Anacrusis, Nevermore, Atheist, Voivod, Forbidden, Control Denied

Nashville, TN based songwriter Michaela Anne returns with her new
album Oh To Be That Free, the follow up to her 2019 Yep Roc debut
Desert Dove
The record was produced by Michaela and Aaron Shafer- Haiss. 'I wrote this
collection of songs as a simultaneous reckoning and healing," says Michaela
Anne. "They came after a period in my life of self sabotage and unraveling by my
own doing. But during the making of this record, life altering experiences
occurred and a deeper layer of meaning for these songs appeared. Between the
time we started to record and the very final mastering, I conceived, grew and
birthed my first child. In the middle of this pregnancy, and the middle of making
this record, my mother suffered a devastating and debilitating hemorrhagic
stroke. These songs became healers for me as though I had written them for my
future self."

The second LP by California rock n roll unit SPICE expands their palette of damaged anthems and addiction poetics with a more bristling, visceral sound, distilled from years in the trenches of bands, break-ups, and breakdowns. Singer Ross Farrar explains their chemistry succinctly: "We all got in a room and this is what came out." Viv is named for a precursor project of bassist Cody Sullivan and violinist Victoria Skudlarek, but also alludes to broader notions of vividness, sonic, visual, and otherwise. Engineered by Jack Shirley and mixed/mastered by Sam Pura in Oakland, the mix achieves that rare balance of every element being elevated but distinct, with voices, strings, and drums each given space to blaze parallel paths. Opener "Recovery" captures SPICE at their stormy, weathered best, booming drums and East Bay riffs skidding out in a rockslide of rapture, regret, and bruised melody ("You sacrifice perfect days to laugh through the night / you have to get out of bed / and it's hard / and it's hard / it's so hard to admit"), peaking in Ian Simpson's poignant single-note vibrato guitar solo; Farrar agrees: "The guitar says what we cannot." Other tracks embrace the group's shredded pop potential ("Any Day Now," "Dining Out," "Live Scene") and their speedway ripper mode ("Threnody"), with detours into oblique instrumentals ("Melody Drive") and orchestral balladeering ("Ashes In The Birdbath"). But what unites and ignites these songs across different energies and arrangements is their specific sense of emotion. Rawness refined into reckonings, approaching truth, born of cold mornings, bad luck, and too many wrong turns. Waking up where you're not supposed to be, living a life you don't recognize. The album ends with no end to its narrative, still fighting, still slipping. Farrar calls "Climbing Down The Ladder" a "relapse song - telling people you're okay but you're still fucking up." Heartbeat drums march under heartbroken guitars in an elegant downward spiral of defeat, delusion, and desperate hope, dreamed more than believed: "I said it was the last time / but I was up so high / 100 miles / 1000 miles / no me in sight / I saw into the next life / I wasn't dead / I felt so vivid in the next life."

The second LP by California rock n roll unit SPICE expands their palette of damaged anthems and addiction poetics with a more bristling, visceral sound, distilled from years in the trenches of bands, break-ups, and breakdowns. Singer Ross Farrar explains their chemistry succinctly: "We all got in a room and this is what came out." Viv is named for a precursor project of bassist Cody Sullivan and violinist Victoria Skudlarek, but also alludes to broader notions of vividness, sonic, visual, and otherwise. Engineered by Jack Shirley and mixed/mastered by Sam Pura in Oakland, the mix achieves that rare balance of every element being elevated but distinct, with voices, strings, and drums each given space to blaze parallel paths. Opener "Recovery" captures SPICE at their stormy, weathered best, booming drums and East Bay riffs skidding out in a rockslide of rapture, regret, and bruised melody ("You sacrifice perfect days to laugh through the night / you have to get out of bed / and it's hard / and it's hard / it's so hard to admit"), peaking in Ian Simpson's poignant single-note vibrato guitar solo; Farrar agrees: "The guitar says what we cannot." Other tracks embrace the group's shredded pop potential ("Any Day Now," "Dining Out," "Live Scene") and their speedway ripper mode ("Threnody"), with detours into oblique instrumentals ("Melody Drive") and orchestral balladeering ("Ashes In The Birdbath"). But what unites and ignites these songs across different energies and arrangements is their specific sense of emotion. Rawness refined into reckonings, approaching truth, born of cold mornings, bad luck, and too many wrong turns. Waking up where you're not supposed to be, living a life you don't recognize. The album ends with no end to its narrative, still fighting, still slipping. Farrar calls "Climbing Down The Ladder" a "relapse song - telling people you're okay but you're still fucking up." Heartbeat drums march under heartbroken guitars in an elegant downward spiral of defeat, delusion, and desperate hope, dreamed more than believed: "I said it was the last time / but I was up so high / 100 miles / 1000 miles / no me in sight / I saw into the next life / I wasn't dead / I felt so vivid in the next life."

The word that jumps to mind when hearing Deanna Petcoff's music for the first time is “yearning”. A whirlwind of emotions, her debut record To Hell With You, I Love You is a reckoning with the loss of a relationship, documenting the aggressive highs and deeply emotional lows that come from falling out of love.

Recorded in Toronto over the course of a year spent in-and-out of lockdowns, she was able to look more closely at the nuances and minutiae of relationships and examine the ways in which they can either grow or falter. She writes about her frustrating experiences as a24-year old woman finding her voice and identity while navigating a never changing world, exploring the ins and outs of love and heartbreak with a grace and quick wit that belies her year. Her rich, textured voice juxtaposes her soft imagery and her vulnerable and starkly honest lyrics welcome us into a world where even a fleeting moment of emotion can become its own monument.

Based in Toronto, ON, Petcoff shaped her own unique brand of beautiful and confessional indie rock through years of devotion to music, sharing stage with the likes of Molly Burch, Tokyo Police Club, The Nude Party and many more. She excels with heart-on-her-sleeve-emotive lyricism that showcases her strength as a songwriter and a vocalist, and on To Hell With You, I Love You, she wanted to present “the whirlwind of emotions you have when you’re grieving a relationship, which can feel like the death of a part of you or what you thought your life was going to look like.” It’s an album that ebbs and flows with a confidence and an assuredness as she tackles the highs and lows of falling in and out of love, and everything in between.

Dear is Pauwel's big step forward. His debut album on Unday (due April 2020) is a mature collection of songs about loss in all its different facets. Pauwel openly confronts his demons, without ever losing sight of the essence: rock-solid and captivating folk songs between hope and despair, comforting and disquieting at the same time. Dear turns out a record to cherish and completely disappear into.

Shortly after Pauwel finished his previous EP, his mother passed away. A few weeks later, Europe went into lockdown for a second time. Pauwel wanted to cope with this turbulent episode on his debut on Unday Records, but the isolation during the pandemic only cast more doubts. During the darkest winter months, the 31-year-old songwriter realized that loss comes in many guises: lovers come to leave, suddenly leave or turn out to have become strangers. "Dear" is the account of this dark period in Pauwel's life. A reckoning with all the bad that happened to him and his peers. It is also a bridge to whatever comes next, a hopeful glance at the future.

On 'Dear', Pauwel expands his musical universe considerably, without losing his characteristic melancholy and distinctive voice. With the help of musicians Sander Smeets, Koen De Gendt and David Broeders - his new backing band - the rough folk diamonds were polished into mature songs. The stunning voice of Catherine Smet (aka Bluai) serves as a comforting echo on a handful of songs.
"Dear" was recorded at three different locations by producer Bert Vliegen (Whispering Sons, Sophia). The opening track "Murderer" and the haunting "Bones" were created in a hut in Walcourt. The bulk of the record was recorded during an intense week at the GAM Studio in Waimes. While the TV news showed apocalyptic images of the floods in the province of Liège around the clock, Pauwel and his band finished the songs. Rich, spacy arrangements ("Lazy"), rambling country-rockers ("Deer" & "Sister") or a tearful one-taker on Fender Rhodes ("Mother"): during this session "Dear" finally came together.

Birthed in the bohemian enclave and epicentre of strange vibrations that is Calderdale in West Yorkshire, Hexen Valley’s story began in summer 2021 when a new formation of Gnod came together in a co-op house at the 200-year-old Nutclough Tavern. As always, the line-up of the collective shifted and morphed to fit circumstances, and soon they embarked on intensive jamming that was eventually captured by Sam Greenwood in Hebden Bridge Underground studios. Inspiration struck not only from the chemistry of the four musicians in this confined room but all around - the band’s Paddy Shine cites the likes of shop noticeboard messages and pub conversations in Hebden as lyrical sparks; channeling by his reckoning the ‘valley fever’ that exists somewhere in the chasms and contrasts between the amazing light and vivacity of the valley summit and the comparative darkness of the towns below. Meanwhile, musical shapes were making themselves known seemingly of their own volition, from ‘Still Running’, which takes shape across a sonic hinterland between Daydream Nation-style kineticism and sludged-out aggression to ‘Bad Apple’ - an entirely spontaneous piece of potent and angular post-punk intensity. Perhaps most surprisingly of all, Lou Reed’s tour-bus favourite ‘Waves Of Fear’ is hammered out with fearsome gusto into a salvo of first-take catharsis and alchemy, fit to transcend all or any oppressive atmospheres that surround.Hexen Valley is the sound of a band whose fearsome intensity is only matched by their evolutionary drive. It’s Gnod at full power, and it’s a haunted place you might struggle to leave

Birthed in the bohemian enclave and epicentre of strange vibrations that is Calderdale in West Yorkshire, Hexen Valley’s story began in summer 2021 when a new formation of Gnod came together in a co-op house at the 200-year-old Nutclough Tavern. As always, the line-up of the collective shifted and morphed to fit circumstances, and soon they embarked on intensive jamming that was eventually captured by Sam Greenwood in Hebden Bridge Underground studios. Inspiration struck not only from the chemistry of the four musicians in this confined room but all around - the band’s Paddy Shine cites the likes of shop noticeboard messages and pub conversations in Hebden as lyrical sparks; channeling by his reckoning the ‘valley fever’ that exists somewhere in the chasms and contrasts between the amazing light and vivacity of the valley summit and the comparative darkness of the towns below. Meanwhile, musical shapes were making themselves known seemingly of their own volition, from ‘Still Running’, which takes shape across a sonic hinterland between Daydream Nation-style kineticism and sludged-out aggression to ‘Bad Apple’ - an entirely spontaneous piece of potent and angular post-punk intensity. Perhaps most surprisingly of all, Lou Reed’s tour-bus favourite ‘Waves Of Fear’ is hammered out with fearsome gusto into a salvo of first-take catharsis and alchemy, fit to transcend all or any oppressive atmospheres that surround.Hexen Valley is the sound of a band whose fearsome intensity is only matched by their evolutionary drive. It’s Gnod at full power, and it’s a haunted place you might struggle to leave

P.E.’s sophomore album, ‘The Leather Lemon’, ushers in a new era for the New York band. A wild ride through chewy bubblegum pop, sweeping synthetic orchestrations and mutant club beats, the album slides ever closer to the fully-realized pop sensibility only winked at with their debut album, ‘Person’ (2020), and subsequent releases.

 Recorded primarily at Schenke’s Studio Windows in Brooklyn, NY, ‘The Leather Lemon’ was cultivated from a fertile creative period between spring 2020 and summer 2021, which also yielded 2021’s acclaimed ‘The Reason For My Love’ EP.

 Digging into mystery, romance and sex appeal, the album centres its sound within a Bermuda Triangle of dance music, electronic composition and experimental rock. Members Jonathan Schenke, Bob Jones and Jonny Campolo play within pop parameters, building upon free-form collaboration to create a fluorescent groove machine that harnesses the energy of their frenetic live shows.

 Singer Veronica Torres explores her softer side, expanding her vocal repertoire from spoken word and jagged growls to cherubic and sensuous psalms.

 Sax virtuoso Benjamin Jaffe’s chiseled experimental tone is heard in an extended solo of true romance in ‘Tears in the Rain’, a sombre surrealist duet penned by Torres and Andrew Savage, singer/guitarist of Parquet Courts.

 It is a reckoning record for the times; an album of psychedelic resurfacing, real-time response to world events, and soft, sympathetic magic. This is a collection of songs shaped by five individuals who embrace music-making as a way to centre themselves in times of uncertainty; it’s resilience and imagination given shape. ‘The Leather Lemon’ is a true sweet-and-sour listening experience, an album as bright and clear as it is fractured and fun.

"This is the kind of songwriting I've always been drawn to," says Jeremy Ivey. "The perpetual motion, the intricate melodies, the sprawling arrangements. This album is the real me." Juxtaposing raw, unflinching personal reckonings with jaunty, buoyant melodies and rich, kaleidoscopic production, Invisible Pictures, Ivey's third album for ANTI- Records, is indeed a revelation. Though the songs are rooted in a 21st century swirl of chaos and uncertainty, the record is, at its core, an undeniably feel-good collection, one that refuses to surrender to the existential ache it so artfully captures. Instead, Ivey embraces the sheer, unmitigated joy of creative freedom and sonic exploration here, drawing on everything from flamenco and classical music to vintage indie rock and British Invasion tunes to craft a passionate, transcendent album more reminiscent of John Lennon or Elliott Smith than anything coming out of Nashville these days. "I try to put a little bit of hope into everything I do," Ivey reflects. "No matter how heavy, no matter how dark things may get, there's always a little bit of light shining through."

Diablo Swing Orchestra is an Swedish eight-piece ensemble known for pairing elements of jazz, swing, classical, progressive rock with just about everything in between. Since the start in 2003 the band has released four studio albums pushing musical boundaries with humor, creativity and a healthy dose of positive aggression. Together they have dug deep into each genre explored on the 13 tracks on the album and worked hard to find the appealing characteristics within that genre and forged it into their own sound. This approach has resulted in a impressive list of guest musicians and some very interesting clashes between sounds which, at least on paper, shouldn’t work. But listeners with an open mind will be rewarded since there are a lot of goodies to be found on the album ranging from the tribal assault that is “War Painted Valentine” to the Zeppelin gospel infused “Snake Oil Baptism”. The band presents new interesting ways of looking upon rock and metal music while managing to stay quite accessible in spite of the fact they’re often described as avant-garde metal.