Cerca:red alien

Erleben Sie den packenden Soundtrack des australischen Horrorklassikers "Wolf Creek" (2005) wie nie zuvor – neu remastert und auf Red+Black Splatter-Vinyl gepresst, mit exklusivem Artwork und Liner Notes. Der Komponist Francois Tétaz erschuf mit Klavier, Alan Lambs einzigartigen Telefonleitungsaufnahmen aus dem Outback Westaustraliens und einem Streichquartett einen Soundtrack, der als philosophischer Kontrast zum Horror von "Wolf Creek" fungiert. Eine eindringliche Mischung aus atmosphärischen Klanglandschaften, sparsamer Instrumentierung und unterschwelliger Bedrohung – die Musik fängt die Einsamkeit und Bedrohlichkeit des Outbacks in jeder Rille ein. Exklusive Collector's Edition für alle Horrorfans, Soundtrack-Sammler und Vinyl-Liebhaber gleichermaßen.

Killer Groove Records proudly presents the debut 45 by Italian cinematic funk trio Atabasca. A syncopated journey where funk, psychedelia, and cinematic groove merge into a timeless narrative suspended between rhythm and vision.


"Cacopoulos" and "Kundela Mawedi" mark the birth of Atabasca's sonic universe: the first two singles from the upcoming self-titled debut album,which will be released on March 27 in limited-edition LP, CD digipack, and digital formats.

On the A-side, "Cacopoulos" is an impetuous, visionary ride that fuses the power of instrumental groove with the evocative imagery of library music and Italian golden-age soundtracks. From the first beat, listeners are drawn into a dry, dusty landscape driven by a primal drum groove and the acid twang of a guitar that evokes the spirit of classic Westerns. Indeed, "Cacopoulos" pays homage to I Quattro dell'Ave Maria (Ace High) and to the legendary Eli Wallach, the sly outlaw who turns deception into revenge, a subtle yet powerful nod that ties the trio's sound to imagery steeped in dust, dreams, and redemption.


On the flip side, the sound of an old lap steel guitar evokes the gentle waves of the sea, opening the doors to "Kundela Mawedi", a dreamy track with exotic tones and heavenly atmospheres. The sonic journey unfolds through hypnotic rhythms and echoes of ancient cultures, where ethereal voices and warm, entrancing bass lines intertwine with psychedelic riffs and evocative guitar melodies, merging into a soundscape rich in warmth and mystery. The chorus, with its unexpected choral chant, adds a spark of magic. An elegant twist that gently stirs the dreamlike mood and transports the listener into a new sonic dimension, steeped in mysticism and tribal vibrations. "Kundela Mawedi" is more than just a song: it's a sensory experience, a musical ritual where tradition meets psychedelia, sand meets sea, and the soul dances upon the waves of time.


Recorded in a single take, the session captures the raw energy and natural atmosphere of the performance. Artistic production was handled by the trio alongside Andrea Fabrizii (digger, musician, producer, and catalogue curator for CAM Sugar), while Riccardo Ricci mastered the tracks at Velvet Room Mastering Studio in Brighton.


A killer double-sider, blending psychedelic and funk moods with percussive, jazzy textures. A must-have gem for every groove-loving DJ.


Like a desert blooming within the evergreen forests of the planet's far north, a unique, alien, disruptive environment: this is the vision behind Atabasca, the project of Luca Mongia (guitars, lap steel, keyboards, vocals), Paolo Mazziotti (bass, keyboards, vocals), and Valerio Pompei (drums, percussion, vocals). Individually active for over twenty years on both national and international scenes, the three musicians came together in 2023 to create a project that merges experience, experimentation, and creative freedom. Their music is imaginative and at times dreamlike, blending the classic concept of the instrumental trio with the worlds of film scoring and sound design.


Atabasca's sound moves through jazz-funk, world, and cinematic territories, weaving together afrobeat, desert, and psychedelic influences into a personal and timeless language. Each piece is a scene; each sound, a fragment of a world, a journey between reality and imagination where groove, texture, and organic timbre merge into a singular sonic ecosystem: a perpetually shifting balance that generates new inner landscapes.


Fans of Khruangbin, Surprise Chef, and instrumental psych-funk, take note!

Twenty years ago, ILL BILL released “What’s Wrong With Bill?”, a raw, unfiltered snapshot of where his mind was at during a dark, creative and transformative time. Chaos and clarity in musical form, a record built from trauma, truth and the New York streets that raised him. He never imagined it would become what it did: a cult classic with a revered mystique that continues to be quoted and debated 20 years later. This album captured ILL BILL at his most urgent, most aggressive and most alert to the madness around him.

For the first time in two decades, “What’s Wrong With Bill?” is being reissued on 2LP vinyl, a complete capsule including an alternate variant cover, 20th anniversary commemorative OBI strip, and, for the first time ever, a cassette edition, alongside a remastered limited edition CD. This is more than nostalgia, it’s encapsulated arcana, proudly representative of an era when Hip Hop was dangerous, fearless and alive. This one is for the true believers who never forgot.

Vinyl gatefold jacket includes a 12x12 insert reproduction of the original LP jacket art.Recorded in 1956 and released in 1957, Supersonic Jazz is arguably the first long-playing album by Sun Ra and His Arkestra on his Saturn label. However, it was not recorded as a debut. Rather, the album was assembled from tapes recorded during a number of sessions at two Chicago studios (RCA Victor and Balkan), and several tracks had been released as singles before their inclusion on this album. (Sunny's first fully realized commercial album was 1957's Jazz by Sun Ra, produced by Tom Wilson on his short lived/soon to be defunct Transition label.) Prior to these sessions, Sunny was still arranging for the Red Saunders Orchestra and singer Joe Williams, in addition to arranging for and coaching doo-wop ensembles. As Sunny's ambitions achieved liftoff, the Arkestra coalesced, began building a repertoire (mostly of Ra's originals), and making forays into studios. Deciding it was time for commercial releases, Sunny and business partner Alton Abraham launched Saturn (sometimes called El Saturn) as a record company in 1956. As a first offering, Supersonic Jazz is a pinnacle Sun Ra release. While reflecting many prevailing bebop, Latin, and R&B conventions of the mid-1950s, it's evident that Sun Ra's musical voice and vision were starting to propel him away from the jazz mainstream. Biographer John Szwed finds on these recordings "characteristics which seemed alien to swing, bebop, or the new, more soulful and hard-edged music which was coming to be called hard bop."

"Hasabe" is a thoughtfully curated collection of Ethio-groove recordings from one of the overlooked pioneers of 1970s Addis Ababa's vibrant music scene-Ayalew Mesfin and his Black Lion Band. Expect trap drum kits, jazz big-band styled horn sections, funky guitars played through wah wah and fuzz pedals- all seasoned with a unique Ethiopian touch_ For many, the music created in 1970s Ethiopia will sound both familiar and alien: while the trappings of '70s Ethiopian music carry some aspects that those in the West will easily identify with-trap drum kits, jazz big-band styled horn sections, guitars played through wah wah and fuzz pedals-the Ethiopian style of singing, and the modes in which the musicians move, may confound. Perhaps some who have delved into the instrumental Ethio-Jazz of Mulatu Astatke-a well-known Ethiopian musical export, relatively unknown in his homeland-will have a context in which to engage this great compilation of '70s Ethiopian music by Ayalew Mesfin. The music Mesfin created with his Black Lion Band is amongst the funkiest to arise from Addis Ababa; his recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7" singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia's 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of the unconquerable East African nation. Ayalew was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of the country in 1974. Until recently, only four of Ayalew Mesfin's tracks had been reissued, appearing in the well-known "Éthiopiques" series. "Hasabe", a carefully curated collection of his singles, marks the first comprehensive release of this powerful and long-overlooked body of work by an artist whose originality and resistance defined a genre: Ethio-groove. More than four decades later, this album offers the rare opportunity to rediscover a vital and beautiful chapter in global music history. We are now reissuing "Hasabe" once again thanks to a collaboration with Now Again. Pressed on 180g vinyl.

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Filippo Diana's “The Haunted Palace” is the second album of unreleased tracks published by Musica Per Immagini, or a sort of soundtrack for an imaginary horror film set in a bloody past, ispired by the book “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward” by Howard Phillips Lovecraft. The artist formerly known as Joe Drive used analog and digital synthesizers, as well as microphones and computers, to describe in notes the ancestral practices of resurrection of the dead accomplished by a shy and unsuspected character, who slowly transforms into an alien, inspiring both fright and terror.

In the smoggy orange light of a new millennium, the young Deb Demure would take the bus, once a week, from his home in crumbling Hollywood to his grandmother's apartment, nestled in the pastel pristineness of Beverly Hills. During these visits, Deb couldn't help but notice the disconnect between the glow of his grandmother's temple, and the downtrodden, alienated figures that populated the seats of the mass transit that took him there. Week after week, he would observe these characters: fading B-movie starlets, leisure-suited alcoholics and forgotten civil servants. But one fateful commute home, as the twilight waned to the purple Los Angeles night, he realized these figures were not as lost as they appeared - there was a nobility in their failure, reflective of the dignity of the city's vanishing golden era. They were survivors, in need of a voice: a spokesperson for every color of hope and hopelessness, transcendent of gender and time; Drab Majesty became Deb's musical podium for this undertaking. Raised in a music-centric household, Deb would find the time to teach himself to play his father's right-handed guitar upside down and left-handed; an unorthodox fashion from where his earliest understanding of chords and harmony were conceived. Exploring the bins of discarded vinyl in his neighborhood thrift stores, his toolkit expanded with the subterranean sonic gems of the recent past. Influences range from the virtuosic arpeggiated guitar work of Felt's Maurice Deebank and the grittier pop progressions of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry's Chris Reed as well as Steve Severin from Siouxsie and The Banshees. He also studied the harmonic oscillations and utilization of the occult power of vibratory frequency present in New Age sounds of Greek artist, IASOS. In terms of orchestration, he consciously culls from the seaside maximalism of Martin Dupont and mechanized grooves of early Depeche Mode. Like a dualistic pendulum, his vocals swing from a preistly baritone to a choir boy's falsetto reflecting the sepulchral ambiance of church visits with his grandmother. Currently the drummer for Los Angeles lo-fi rock ensemble Marriages and having honed an unorthodox home recording style, Deb sources his sounds from a repository of "mid-fi" synthesizers and other lesser-quality instruments. Following the release of his debut cassette EP, "Unarian Dances", he also shared a split 12" with synth pop forefathers, Eleven Pond. During the Spring of 2015, Drab Majesty signed with Dais Records and released his first single, Unknown to the I, as a introduction for his first initial foray into the album format, romantically titled Careless. Written over the course of 2 years, "Careless" is a compendium of songs that have outlasted a malicious burglary of his studio, his struggles with substance addiction, and most recently, the death of his beloved grandmother.

In the smoggy orange light of a new millennium, the young Deb Demure would take the bus, once a week, from his home in crumbling Hollywood to his grandmother's apartment, nestled in the pastel pristineness of Beverly Hills. During these visits, Deb couldn't help but notice the disconnect between the glow of his grandmother's temple, and the downtrodden, alienated figures that populated the seats of the mass transit that took him there. Week after week, he would observe these characters: fading B-movie starlets, leisure-suited alcoholics and forgotten civil servants. But one fateful commute home, as the twilight waned to the purple Los Angeles night, he realized these figures were not as lost as they appeared - there was a nobility in their failure, reflective of the dignity of the city's vanishing golden era. They were survivors, in need of a voice: a spokesperson for every color of hope and hopelessness, transcendent of gender and time; Drab Majesty became Deb's musical podium for this undertaking. Raised in a music-centric household, Deb would find the time to teach himself to play his father's right-handed guitar upside down and left-handed; an unorthodox fashion from where his earliest understanding of chords and harmony were conceived. Exploring the bins of discarded vinyl in his neighborhood thrift stores, his toolkit expanded with the subterranean sonic gems of the recent past. Influences range from the virtuosic arpeggiated guitar work of Felt's Maurice Deebank and the grittier pop progressions of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry's Chris Reed as well as Steve Severin from Siouxsie and The Banshees. He also studied the harmonic oscillations and utilization of the occult power of vibratory frequency present in New Age sounds of Greek artist, IASOS. In terms of orchestration, he consciously culls from the seaside maximalism of Martin Dupont and mechanized grooves of early Depeche Mode. Like a dualistic pendulum, his vocals swing from a preistly baritone to a choir boy's falsetto reflecting the sepulchral ambiance of church visits with his grandmother. Currently the drummer for Los Angeles lo-fi rock ensemble Marriages and having honed an unorthodox home recording style, Deb sources his sounds from a repository of "mid-fi" synthesizers and other lesser-quality instruments. Following the release of his debut cassette EP, "Unarian Dances", he also shared a split 12" with synth pop forefathers, Eleven Pond. During the Spring of 2015, Drab Majesty signed with Dais Records and released his first single, Unknown to the I, as a introduction for his first initial foray into the album format, romantically titled Careless. Written over the course of 2 years, "Careless" is a compendium of songs that have outlasted a malicious burglary of his studio, his struggles with substance addiction, and most recently, the death of his beloved grandmother.

In the smoggy orange light of a new millennium, the young Deb Demure would take the bus, once a week, from his home in crumbling Hollywood to his grandmother's apartment, nestled in the pastel pristineness of Beverly Hills. During these visits, Deb couldn't help but notice the disconnect between the glow of his grandmother's temple, and the downtrodden, alienated figures that populated the seats of the mass transit that took him there. Week after week, he would observe these characters: fading B-movie starlets, leisure-suited alcoholics and forgotten civil servants. But one fateful commute home, as the twilight waned to the purple Los Angeles night, he realized these figures were not as lost as they appeared - there was a nobility in their failure, reflective of the dignity of the city's vanishing golden era. They were survivors, in need of a voice: a spokesperson for every color of hope and hopelessness, transcendent of gender and time; Drab Majesty became Deb's musical podium for this undertaking. Raised in a music-centric household, Deb would find the time to teach himself to play his father's right-handed guitar upside down and left-handed; an unorthodox fashion from where his earliest understanding of chords and harmony were conceived. Exploring the bins of discarded vinyl in his neighborhood thrift stores, his toolkit expanded with the subterranean sonic gems of the recent past. Influences range from the virtuosic arpeggiated guitar work of Felt's Maurice Deebank and the grittier pop progressions of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry's Chris Reed as well as Steve Severin from Siouxsie and The Banshees. He also studied the harmonic oscillations and utilization of the occult power of vibratory frequency present in New Age sounds of Greek artist, IASOS. In terms of orchestration, he consciously culls from the seaside maximalism of Martin Dupont and mechanized grooves of early Depeche Mode. Like a dualistic pendulum, his vocals swing from a preistly baritone to a choir boy's falsetto reflecting the sepulchral ambiance of church visits with his grandmother. Currently the drummer for Los Angeles lo-fi rock ensemble Marriages and having honed an unorthodox home recording style, Deb sources his sounds from a repository of "mid-fi" synthesizers and other lesser-quality instruments. Following the release of his debut cassette EP, "Unarian Dances", he also shared a split 12" with synth pop forefathers, Eleven Pond. During the Spring of 2015, Drab Majesty signed with Dais Records and released his first single, Unknown to the I, as a introduction for his first initial foray into the album format, romantically titled Careless. Written over the course of 2 years, "Careless" is a compendium of songs that have outlasted a malicious burglary of his studio, his struggles with substance addiction, and most recently, the death of his beloved grandmother.

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

High Roller Records, reissue 2025, red/ blue galaxy effect vinyl, ltd 500, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, poster, A5 promo photo, lyric sheet, mastered by Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony

Corbin (FKA Spooky Black) makes captivating, honest, and raw music that harkens back to the days when the singer-songwriter’s artistic vision prioritized vulnerability over image. The St. Paul, Minnesota native came to prominence during the rise of the SoundCloud gold rush, helping to influence the new generation of Gen Z songwriters. Songs such as the haunting portrait of addiction “Diazepam”, and his battle with insecurity and instability in relationships “ICE BOY”, showed off his ability to connect with the plight of modern adolescence. But it was the internet-breaking, classic ballad of yearning “Without You”, that inspired a generation of disaffected and abandoned adolescents, serving as a soundtrack to make the alienated feel a little less alone. He’s attracted some of the biggest names in music, featuring on songs with Chief Keef, Trippie Redd, and The Kid Laroi, among others. With his latest record, Crisis Kid, Corbin dials back the angst in favor of an intimate vocal style that sounds like he’s reading his diary from a candlelit cabin. A more polished and refined version of Corbin resurfaces as he contemplates collective suffering, generational trauma, and the quest to find hope during the bleakest timeline, offering a voice for the voiceless.

* Light Years: A captivating late-night roller, reflecting the distances traversable through sound. Layered drums breaking like waves across a vast alien ocean, with 808 subs providing the ballast.

* Dust: Textured patterns move through the atmosphere like fine particles, drawing listeners into the haze. Mystery and nostalgia combining to produce jungle which looks back over its shoulder whilst racing forward, into the future.

* Antares: The red super-giant at the heart of the scorpion. Deep, resounding bass below, providing the foundation for the pulsating choppage, and shimmering harmonies above.

* Omega 7: Jungle drum & bass which shamelessly revels in the virtues of everyone’s favorite fatty acid. High-energy beats, nourishing rhythms and therapeutic low-end, emulsified to provide a supplement which promotes balance and wellness.

2025 Repress
Singing black-lit liturgies of bog bodies caked in mud, entranced by nocturnal landscapes flickering in the moonglow and powered by queer enchantment, Tristwch y Fenywod are a Welsh-language gothic avant-rock powercoven. Exhumed from the depths of Leeds’
experimental underground, the trio consist of Gwretsien Ferch Lisbeth (Guttersnipe, The Ephemeron Loop), Leila Lygad (Hawthonn) and Sidni Sarffwraig (Slaylor Moon, The Courtneys).
Stark, striking and bewitching, Tristwch y Fenywod’s self-titled album is their debut studio recording, following just 10 gigs and a live demo. Formed in 2022, Tristwch y Fenywod ("The Sadness of Women”) record exclusively in the Welsh language, conjuring an eldritch, subterranean, alien folk music played on dual zither, electronic drums and bass guitar. With towering, siren-like vocals curling around the Welsh consonants, accompanied by stark, martial rhythms and swirling claw-plucked strings, Tristwch y Fenywod feels like an early 4AD recording dredged from the waters of an Anglesey swamp. The effect is simultaneously chilling and stirring.
The eight tracks on the record constitute what feels like a recently rediscovered, unholy grail of edgy, atmospheric, occult feminist goth emissions. Gwretsien’s dual-zither playing scatters melodic fragments and spirals of harmony around the decimated space opened up by the lugubrious bass playing and pounding, brooding drum pads.
Coupled with the Welsh vocal, Tristwch y Fenywod embody a new, unique Celtic darkwave sound, equal part Pornography-era The Cure, Svitlana Nianio’s haunted hammered string-work and the dark beauty of Dead Can Dance or This Mortal Coil. Opener Blodyn Gwyrdd feels like the last ride of Princess Ukok, with lumbering bass and 6/8 rhythms in procession to the event horizon with an entreating, impassioned vocal and surprising lyrical theme. The doomed dancing of the zither provides the mysterious melodic bedrock throughout the album, particularly on Ferch Gyda’r Llygaid Du’s heavy funereal swa and the slowly building, paroxysmal banshee breakdown of Awen: an astonishing swell of thrilling chaos.
The album was recorded and produced by Ross Halden and the band at Hohm Studio, Bradford, Summer 2023.

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

RIYL: Portishead, Thom Yorke, BEAK>, SUUNS, TR/ST, Radiohead. Solo project of Robert Toher who was the creator of ERAAS. Covered by Quietus,Pitchfork, NME, Stereogum, Earmilk, The 405, Clash, BBC Radio, Clash and more.... Public Memory is a mixture of damaged and dubbed-out percussion, unfurling synths and sparse sampling - all strung together by producer Robert Toher's spectral tenor. The project's sophomore LP, Demolition follows 2017's Veil of Counsel EP and 2016's Wuthering Drum LP with cinematic fortitude. While Public Memory's prominent krautrock and trip-hop rhythms are represented here, Demolition explores a greater range of tempos and an expanse of alien emotions with layers of electronic drums, live drums, Korg synths and samples from nature. Themes of rebirth and reflection imbue the album's atmosphere, rich in tape delay, spring reverb, and textures that conjure a sci fi and supernatural narrative. Opener "The Line" sets the album in motion with a driving energy and introspective unease, as if estranged from the world it was created in. A meditation on impending collapse, "Red Rainbow" begins with an arpeggiated melody that hints at a sense of dread. Like the darkness of night descends, the track unfolds with haunting atmospherics and howling synths, finishing with an unexpected climax that ominously builds until at last it falls apart, quickly, softly, without incident. The slowtempoed "Aegis" reflects on the banal reality of love lost, with shuffling rhythms, lingering inflections and a growling synth at its core. Toher's adept use of space and tension articulates the world of Demolition as eerie, emotive, and above all, narcotic. Each track is an existential procession. "Turning out the lights on your illusion," Toher sings to close the album, accepting that change is an inescapable condition of being.

Matter-of-factly, Lycox exclaims "Yaaahh" right at the beginning. That's an affirmation but in times of distress it can also mean resignation, something like "Yeah, whatever". Lycox says he was only freestyling though. Then the bassline appears. Elastic, expressive, full-bodied. And it's not even present the whole time. He was "trying to develop a new formula for the Kuduro beat."

Songs for the club? Most certainly. Different sensibilities, one same focused mind. Lycox evolves within tradition, he has mastered the groove, the ambience, the right tones. Simply called "Energia", the last track circles above wistfully, menacing but maybe just promising some sort of action. With a few drops one could almost switch over to a parallel universe of old school Trance, a reference that feels as alien here as maybe this track feels to someone for whom the standard Afro House sound represents modern African music.

These songs pile up in a threshold balanced between styles, sensations, maybe in the middle of life itself. Such a concentration of energy is bound to need release and that comes figuratively through details in the music reaching out to receptive ears. "To Bem Loko" explicitly tries to "literally drive everyone crazy on the dancefloor." Once again Lycox provides vocals, as in "Edson no Uige", about a friend who embarked on a trip to the Angolan province of Uige and came back speaking only the local dialect known as lingala. A nod to tradition, very emotional, without compromising complex arrangements. Consequently, we the listeners are kept believing there is still enough space for a bright future. To ears accustomed to Lycox productions the title "Contemporaneo" (opening of side B) reads like a redundancy, then.

Maybe this music can never be quite as massive as other Afro styles. Without sounding pretentious, it avoids simplistic patterns, it demands a bit more mental processing while it certainly aims to loosen the limbs. Universal in vocation, underground at the core, Lycox definitely calls it Batida but for some it is still Ghetto Music. Like DJ Veiga said when describing a previous release for Príncipe, Ghetto is home, though. Lycox adds it is a foundation of personality. "Few in our community will recognize your work when you come from the same environment, but once you establish your reputation outside of the neighbourhood and even outside of the country, people will look at you differently, as if you were a star."

The Stripp sind eine energiegeladene Rock'n'Roll-Maschine aus der Underground-Rockszene Melbournes. Angeführt wird die Band von Bek Taylor, die als perfekte Mischung von Joan Jett und Lemmy Kilmister beschrieben werden kann. Die fesselnden Live-Shows und ausgedehnten Tourneen haben ihnen den Ruf als eine der besten, energiegeladenen Rock'n'Roll-Bands Australiens eingebracht. The Stripp gingen 2022 erneut ins Studio und veröffentlichten ihr Debütalbum ,Ain't no crime to Rock ' Roll", das der Band sofort in ganz Australien und international weitere Aufmerksamkeit verschaffte. 2024 bringt The Stripp ihr Debütalbum endlich nach Europa, welches zwei zusätzliche Titel ,Bad News" und ,Rock Machine" enthält. Auf nur 250 Exemplare limitiert!