Suche:ruin

Inmitten der melancholischen Ruinen und der Erhabenheit der Natur verwebt ihr neuestes Album Amidst the Ruins majestätisch die Vergangenheit mit der Gegenwart. Von den eindringlichen Echos in Glen of Sorrow, das vom Verrat des Massakers von Glencoe erzählt, bis hin zu den geflüsterten Geheimnissen des Waldes in The Sylvan Embrace mit Jo Quail ist jedes Stück ein Portal zum reichen Erbe Schottlands. Dieses Album ist eine Hommage an die zeitlosen Landschaften und die Geister der Vorfahren und fängt die Seele einer Nation in jeder Note ein.

Das französische Rock-Quartett Last Train aus Lyon kündigt sein drittes Studioalbum 'III' für den 31. Januar 2025 an! Aufgenommen wurde das Album mit dem langjährigen Produzenten und quasi fünften Mitglied Rémi Gettliffe in einem verfallenen Schloss mitten in Frankreich mitten im Winter. Dementsprechend düster, aber vor allem wütend klingt die neue Platte. In den letzten Jahren konnte sich die Band nicht nur eine engagierte und leidenschaftliche Fangemeinde aufbauen, sondern verdienten sich auch die Anerkennung von Bands wie Muse und Placebo, die beide Last Train einluden, sie auf Tour zu begleiten. Ähnlich wie die beiden britischen Rockgiganten hat Last Train mit 'III' ein Album voller atemberaubender Kontraste geschaffen, mit einer rohen Dynamik, die einen direkt fesselt. Von ungezügelten, lauten Gefühlsausbrüchen bis zu ruhigeren - manchmal packenden, manchmal bedrohlichen Momenten, leben die neun Songs auf 'III' von einer Leidenschaft und Intensität, die ihresgleichen sucht.

Taking our time has become a sort of ESP modus operandi, often proving that when variables are left to cook long enough—relationships, styles, politics, moments in culture—we may collectively yield a more considered result. Once in a 'Blue Moon', we set sights on a record that conducts some strange voodoo, some rare combination of elements that commands our entire being. Entering our atmosphere with a concise 6-track debut, dub technician Brendon Moeller has brought us exactly that. Although we’ve long been admirers Brendon’s work, separated by only a few degrees—he and ESP’s Lovefingers are the same age and shared a decade of salad days in New York City—it took another decade before enough courage was mustered to suggest we actually work together. Our reticence has seen Brendon’s aesthetic and palette evolve over the years, and the label has simultaneously sculpted a tone of its own, but now we’re more than proud to finally marry his highly refined output with our, let’s say, “deliberate” appetite. 'Blue Moon' touches everywhere Brendon has been as an artist—from the obtuse corners of ambient to IDM, dub techno to liquid drones and bass—yet the vocabulary is honed and succinct, relying on a very intentional handful of expressions. This is almost an exercise in restraint, all 6 tracks are delivered from a disciplined and committed point-of-view, but what we find most captivating is the exploration that this allows in terms of depth, texture, fluidity and pacing. There is a complexity hidden in plain sight that begs to be studied, a comfort that allows us to slip inside like a warm bath, an addictive tingling sensation that we must prolong indefinitely. Even as we write this testimonial, the album is going on a fourth repeat and we languish the intervening silence between tracks. This is being under the spell of Brendon’s 'Blue Moon'.

Open Head is a 4 piece experimental ensemble from Kingston, New York. With a taste for the concrete and the spectral, their new album What Is Success sources beauty in brutalist architecture, holography, and the remnants of industrialism that ornament the Hudson Valley landscape. The result is expansive, stratospheric in volume, and brutally material in its punctuation and delivery. Drawing on New York no-wave and the avant-garde history of punk, noise, hip-hop and electronic music, Open Head presents a sound that is itself a landscape-immediate, colossal, ruined and essential. Open Head is Jared Ashdown (v,g), Brandon Minervini (g,v), Jon McCarthy (b), and Dan Schwartz (d).

Seit sie die Wiener Musikszene mit ihrem Debüt ,Trouble" (2022) und dem Nachfolger-Album ,Lightning Trails" (2023) im Sturm erobert haben, etablierten sich die Jangle-Pop-Maestros Laundromat Chicks in jenem seltenen musikalischen Terrain, in der sich Humor, Übermut und Verletzlichkeit überschneiden. Von pubertären Power-Pop-Hymnen bis hin zu knackigem Jangle-Pop sind Laundromat Chicks die Art von Band, die einen an alle Lieblingsbands auf einmal erinnert. Auf ihrem Album ,Sometimes Possessed" (Siluh Records) erweitert die Band ihre Soundpalette. Mastermind Tobias Hammermüller führt sein Songwriting in neue Bahnen, indem die gewohnt schlagfertigen Gitarrenhymnen mit abstrakteren, sanfter klingendenmusikalischen Ideen abwechseln. Das Quartett, bestehend neben Hammermüller (Gesang/Gitarre) aus Theresa Strohmer (Gitarre/Gesang), Felix Schnabl (Schlagzeug) und Lena Pöttinger (Bass), war von Anfang an sehr produktiv - sowohl bei Laundromat Chicks als auch bei anderen Projekten. So spielen Strohmer und Pöttinger auch in der Garage-Pop-Band Topsy Turvy, während Schnabl sein eigenes 60er-Jahre-Garage-Punk-Projekt Salamirecorder hat und in der Psychrock-Gruppe Telebrains Schlagzeug spielt und singt. Laundromat Chicks' erste beiden Veröffentlichungen bei Siluh Records, sind eine Fundgrube an zu entdeckenden Gitarrenpops, z.B. die Single ,You're on the Line" ist so witzig undeindringlich wie jede pubertäre Powerpop-Hymne diesseits von Buzzcocks und The Undertones, während ,Nobody Believes Me" den eisigen Fatalismus von Joy Division mit dem knackigen Jangle von The Babies and Girls verbindet. Es steht außer Frage, dass die Laundromat Chicks in nur 20 Minuten eine Band sein können, die dich an alle deine Lieblingsbands auf einmal erinnert, aber auch gleichzeitig in neue, aufregende Gefilde entführen kann. Auf Sometimes Possessed erweitert diese speziellen Gebiete erheblich: Die bislang gewohnten 20 Minuten dehnen sich nun zu einem inspirierten 30-minütigen Fiebertraum aus. Damit sich die Gefühle entfalten konnten, musste der Startpunkt des Albums irgendwo aus einem abgelegenen bzw. fast vergessenen Fundus kommen. Das Ergebnis ist Laundromat Chicks' hitzeverzerrte Interpretation der von Ray Davies geschriebenen 60ties Ballade ,This Strange Effect", ein schwindelerregendes Duett, dargeboten von Sänger Hammermüller mit Gitarristin Theresa Strohmer als Duett.

Brooklyn Sounds legendary second album from 1972, full of heavy Nuyorican underground salsa dura propelled by raw trombones, off-kilter piano and in-your-face percussion. A perfect blend of barrio attitude and Caribbean swing, the album proves Brooklyn has sabor y salsa! Pressed on 180 g vinyl, our reissue includes liner notes featuring never-before seen photos. “Libre – Free” is the now legendary second album by the short-lived Brooklyn Sounds and is arguably even better than their self-titled debut, displaying a more mature and practiced sound, no doubt honed by their experiences playing more gigs in support of their first record. Brooklyn Sounds were one of a handful of garage salsa bands from the independent scene that was gathering steam in the early 1970s in the New York boroughs, despite little support or exposure in the mainstream Latin music industry from more dominant labels like Fania, Mericana, Cotique and Alegre. As with many others, Brooklyn Sounds briefly fluoresced in a burst of creativity and defiance, yet flamed out shortly thereafter, dying like a flower among the ruins of burned-out apartment blocks in the barrios of its home city. Though the band only cut two LPs and a couple singles in their brief half-decade of existence, and never really broke out of the cuchifrito circuit in the tri-state area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut, their music gradually spread far and wide, eventually becoming a sought-after global commodity by the late 1990s. In contrast to the first album “Libre – Free” is uptempo and ebullient, with fewer slow songs and more confident, creative arrangements, full of heavy Nuyorican underground salsa dura propelled by raw trombones, off-kilter piano and in-your-face percussion. Standout tracks include the uplifting, anthemic ‘Libre soy’, and ‘Ha llegado el momento’, with its minor key ‘Moliendo café’ quote at the
beginning—both of which have become dance floor anthems over the years. Another mid-tempo killer is ‘Guaguancó tropical’, a favorite in Colombia since the 1970s. A perfect blend of barrio attitude and Caribbean swing, the album proves Brooklyn has sabor y salsa!

Das achte Album der Punkrock-Gruppe Turbostaat: Wo sonst Möwen und Wattenmeer waren, sind jetzt Tauben und Beton

Junger Punk steht breit lächelnd in kahler Raumecke vor zerschlissener Tonbandmaschine; kurzgeschorene, blondierte Haare, schnittige Sonnenbrille mit dünnen Metallbügeln, angejahrte Lederjacke über buntem Flanellhemd; Trainspotting-Ästhetik. Beschriebenes Foto ist gewiss kein typisches Albumcover-Motiv - und doch ziert es das Cover vom neuen, achten Studioalbum der Husumer, Hamburger, Berliner Band Turbostaat. Der Mann im Zentrum des angegilbten Schnappschusses? Turbostaat-Stammproduzent und Toningenieur Moses Schneider in seinen späten Zwanzigern; oder in seinen frühen Dreißigern - jedenfalls in einem Lebensabschnitt vor Kamillentee und Hochglanz-Equipment. Dreck, Wut, Tatendrang, Aufbruchsstimmung, rotziger Pessimismus, unverhohlen grantiger Punk-Geist - das sind die Parallelen zwischen jenem Foto und der Platte, die es bebildert. Sie hört mit Fug und Recht auf den Namen 'Alter Zorn', klingt mehr nach Stunde null als nach Spätwerk-LP und probt - anstatt friedfertig zu umarmen - den unsanft aufrüttelnden Würgegriff.

Okay, geschenkt: Friedfertig umarmt haben Turbostaat ihre Hörer*innen auf musikalischer Ebene Zeit ihres Bestehens ohnehin nie. Da war immer mehr Understatement und nordfriesische Nüchternheit als Charmeoffensive oder Frohmut, immer mehr Sehnsucht als Wohlbehagen, immer mehr Krach, wirre Worte und bärbeißige Mine zum bösen Spiel als gut gelaunter Humbug. Turbostaat-Musik, das ist Punkrock, dem Wattenmeer-Nebel in den Lungen hängt - seitdem sich die Band 1999 in der schleswig-holsteinischen Provinz formiert hat und auch ein Vierteljahrhundert später.

Wo sonst Möwen, Wattenmeer-Nebel und graue Weiten waren, verdecken nun Taubenschwärme, endzeitlich versmogte Betonburgen und eine gottverdammte Bismarck-Statue, die dem Szeneviertel ihren metergroßen Arsch entgegenstreckt, die Sicht auf alles Schöne. 'Alter Zorn' blickt auf die »Affenstraße«, auf verwahrloste Eckkneipen, in der sich düstere Schatten stapeln, auf »Ruinen zwischen Glas und Stahl«, auf Metropolen voll »greller Sommerkotze« und Spiegelscherben, die immer enger werden - und nur selten starr auf’s offene Meer. Was den schwammigen Protagonist*innen des Turbostaat-Universums dennoch geblieben ist, ist die bohrende Einsamkeit - dieses wütend-resignierte Gefühl, es nicht zustandezubringen, »hier mitzumarschieren«. 'Alter Zorn' zeichnet eine Dystopie - eine Welt zwischen Novembergicht und Hitzestau, in der sich tote Schwäne im Graben stapeln, Panzer rollen, die Luft knapp wird, Obdachlose die Straße umarmen, alle alles mit Karte bezahlen, in Ledersitzen zittern, die Laune im Arsch und überhaupt »wirklich Sense« ist.

Das achte Album der Punkrock-Gruppe Turbostaat: Wo sonst Möwen und Wattenmeer waren, sind jetzt Tauben und Beton

Junger Punk steht breit lächelnd in kahler Raumecke vor zerschlissener Tonbandmaschine; kurzgeschorene, blondierte Haare, schnittige Sonnenbrille mit dünnen Metallbügeln, angejahrte Lederjacke über buntem Flanellhemd; Trainspotting-Ästhetik. Beschriebenes Foto ist gewiss kein typisches Albumcover-Motiv - und doch ziert es das Cover vom neuen, achten Studioalbum der Husumer, Hamburger, Berliner Band Turbostaat. Der Mann im Zentrum des angegilbten Schnappschusses? Turbostaat-Stammproduzent und Toningenieur Moses Schneider in seinen späten Zwanzigern; oder in seinen frühen Dreißigern - jedenfalls in einem Lebensabschnitt vor Kamillentee und Hochglanz-Equipment. Dreck, Wut, Tatendrang, Aufbruchsstimmung, rotziger Pessimismus, unverhohlen grantiger Punk-Geist - das sind die Parallelen zwischen jenem Foto und der Platte, die es bebildert. Sie hört mit Fug und Recht auf den Namen 'Alter Zorn', klingt mehr nach Stunde null als nach Spätwerk-LP und probt - anstatt friedfertig zu umarmen - den unsanft aufrüttelnden Würgegriff.

Okay, geschenkt: Friedfertig umarmt haben Turbostaat ihre Hörer*innen auf musikalischer Ebene Zeit ihres Bestehens ohnehin nie. Da war immer mehr Understatement und nordfriesische Nüchternheit als Charmeoffensive oder Frohmut, immer mehr Sehnsucht als Wohlbehagen, immer mehr Krach, wirre Worte und bärbeißige Mine zum bösen Spiel als gut gelaunter Humbug. Turbostaat-Musik, das ist Punkrock, dem Wattenmeer-Nebel in den Lungen hängt - seitdem sich die Band 1999 in der schleswig-holsteinischen Provinz formiert hat und auch ein Vierteljahrhundert später.

Wo sonst Möwen, Wattenmeer-Nebel und graue Weiten waren, verdecken nun Taubenschwärme, endzeitlich versmogte Betonburgen und eine gottverdammte Bismarck-Statue, die dem Szeneviertel ihren metergroßen Arsch entgegenstreckt, die Sicht auf alles Schöne. 'Alter Zorn' blickt auf die »Affenstraße«, auf verwahrloste Eckkneipen, in der sich düstere Schatten stapeln, auf »Ruinen zwischen Glas und Stahl«, auf Metropolen voll »greller Sommerkotze« und Spiegelscherben, die immer enger werden - und nur selten starr auf’s offene Meer. Was den schwammigen Protagonist*innen des Turbostaat-Universums dennoch geblieben ist, ist die bohrende Einsamkeit - dieses wütend-resignierte Gefühl, es nicht zustandezubringen, »hier mitzumarschieren«. 'Alter Zorn' zeichnet eine Dystopie - eine Welt zwischen Novembergicht und Hitzestau, in der sich tote Schwäne im Graben stapeln, Panzer rollen, die Luft knapp wird, Obdachlose die Straße umarmen, alle alles mit Karte bezahlen, in Ledersitzen zittern, die Laune im Arsch und überhaupt »wirklich Sense« ist.

Das achte Album der Punkrock-Gruppe Turbostaat: Wo sonst Möwen und Wattenmeer waren, sind jetzt Tauben und Beton

Junger Punk steht breit lächelnd in kahler Raumecke vor zerschlissener Tonbandmaschine; kurzgeschorene, blondierte Haare, schnittige Sonnenbrille mit dünnen Metallbügeln, angejahrte Lederjacke über buntem Flanellhemd; Trainspotting-Ästhetik. Beschriebenes Foto ist gewiss kein typisches Albumcover-Motiv - und doch ziert es das Cover vom neuen, achten Studioalbum der Husumer, Hamburger, Berliner Band Turbostaat. Der Mann im Zentrum des angegilbten Schnappschusses? Turbostaat-Stammproduzent und Toningenieur Moses Schneider in seinen späten Zwanzigern; oder in seinen frühen Dreißigern - jedenfalls in einem Lebensabschnitt vor Kamillentee und Hochglanz-Equipment. Dreck, Wut, Tatendrang, Aufbruchsstimmung, rotziger Pessimismus, unverhohlen grantiger Punk-Geist - das sind die Parallelen zwischen jenem Foto und der Platte, die es bebildert. Sie hört mit Fug und Recht auf den Namen 'Alter Zorn', klingt mehr nach Stunde null als nach Spätwerk-LP und probt - anstatt friedfertig zu umarmen - den unsanft aufrüttelnden Würgegriff.

Okay, geschenkt: Friedfertig umarmt haben Turbostaat ihre Hörer*innen auf musikalischer Ebene Zeit ihres Bestehens ohnehin nie. Da war immer mehr Understatement und nordfriesische Nüchternheit als Charmeoffensive oder Frohmut, immer mehr Sehnsucht als Wohlbehagen, immer mehr Krach, wirre Worte und bärbeißige Mine zum bösen Spiel als gut gelaunter Humbug. Turbostaat-Musik, das ist Punkrock, dem Wattenmeer-Nebel in den Lungen hängt - seitdem sich die Band 1999 in der schleswig-holsteinischen Provinz formiert hat und auch ein Vierteljahrhundert später.

Wo sonst Möwen, Wattenmeer-Nebel und graue Weiten waren, verdecken nun Taubenschwärme, endzeitlich versmogte Betonburgen und eine gottverdammte Bismarck-Statue, die dem Szeneviertel ihren metergroßen Arsch entgegenstreckt, die Sicht auf alles Schöne. 'Alter Zorn' blickt auf die »Affenstraße«, auf verwahrloste Eckkneipen, in der sich düstere Schatten stapeln, auf »Ruinen zwischen Glas und Stahl«, auf Metropolen voll »greller Sommerkotze« und Spiegelscherben, die immer enger werden - und nur selten starr auf’s offene Meer. Was den schwammigen Protagonist*innen des Turbostaat-Universums dennoch geblieben ist, ist die bohrende Einsamkeit - dieses wütend-resignierte Gefühl, es nicht zustandezubringen, »hier mitzumarschieren«. 'Alter Zorn' zeichnet eine Dystopie - eine Welt zwischen Novembergicht und Hitzestau, in der sich tote Schwäne im Graben stapeln, Panzer rollen, die Luft knapp wird, Obdachlose die Straße umarmen, alle alles mit Karte bezahlen, in Ledersitzen zittern, die Laune im Arsch und überhaupt »wirklich Sense« ist.

When Greg Freeman quietly released his debut album I Looked Out in 2022, it was immediately clear to the small community who heard it that the Vermont songwriter captured something intangibly exciting and distinctly American. Across 10 explosive songs that meld knotty indie rock with pastoral twang, he sings with a zealous urgency of shipwrecks, biblical visions, doomed drifters, dams breaking, and lives left in rearview mirrors. His evocative writing paints a world where revelation or ruin is behind every corner but it always leaves room for hope and human connection. A resoundingly confident LP, it’s a testament to Burlington’s vibrant music community and the pure magic of opening yourself up to creative risks and collaboration.

Now, for the first time, I Looked Out has been pressed to vinyl. Out digitally on Nov. 20 and on vinyl Jan. 17 via Canvasback/Transgressive, two bonus tracks are also available. On the digital release, there’s an acoustic duet version of “Long Distance Driver” with Merce Lemon, and on the vinyl, there’s the noisy sound collage “Sound Tests, Scraps, Lists.” Greg Freeman will release new music and this album’s full-length follow-up in 2025."

When Greg Freeman quietly released his debut album I Looked Out in 2022, it was immediately clear to the small community who heard it that the Vermont songwriter captured something intangibly exciting and distinctly American. Across 10 explosive songs that meld knotty indie rock with pastoral twang, he sings with a zealous urgency of shipwrecks, biblical visions, doomed drifters, dams breaking, and lives left in rearview mirrors. His evocative writing paints a world where revelation or ruin is behind every corner but it always leaves room for hope and human connection. A resoundingly confident LP, it’s a testament to Burlington’s vibrant music community and the pure magic of opening yourself up to creative risks and collaboration.

Now, for the first time, I Looked Out has been pressed to vinyl. Out digitally on Nov. 20 and on vinyl Jan. 17 via Canvasback/Transgressive, two bonus tracks are also available. On the digital release, there’s an acoustic duet version of “Long Distance Driver” with Merce Lemon, and on the vinyl, there’s the noisy sound collage “Sound Tests, Scraps, Lists.” Greg Freeman will release new music and this album’s full-length follow-up in 2025."

In the heart of the neon-washed ruins, the citys pulse was electronic faint, rhythmic, controlled. The rebellion moved like shadows, fragmented, but growing. Among them, The Echo shifted no face, no identity, just whispers of someone who was everywhere and nowhere.
It could become anyone, blend into any crowd, disappear in plain sight. To the rebels, The Echo was the key. A shapeshifter with the ability to infiltrate the Systems command center, the nerve of the AI-controlled city. But in the silence between the beats of a distorted festered.
Was The Echo their weapon, or their silent executioner?

After a kickass track on the newArray0 V/A, along with Nineties Entities, Binary Digit, MAURER and bell hooks, Silent Manifesto now returns with full length power, still advocating the power of the rave, the acid and the electro to cleanse the soul and start anew.

Yet, the journey is dark and difficult: meadows of technological ruins, rivers of benzodiazepine, mountains of self-contrition and guilt, these are but a few of the obstacles on this record, but do not fear, dear listener, as the fattest of the fattest kicks and the most sinuous bass lines will be your best allies.

Whether you want to dance, to reflect upon the past, the present, the future, to get fucked up in your apartment, this record is perfect for you.
Whether you are an electrohead, an urban pessismist, an optimist pastoral raver, a nostalgic of a future past, this record is also perfect for you.

Traders, cops, bankers, neo-liberalism enthusiasts, start-uppers, neophiles, technological believers, soldiers of power, authority, domination and progress, you can go fuck yourselves.

Jacob Long’s fourth full-length for Kranky began as a notion to reimagine Earthen Sea as a “piano trio,” inspired by a year-long immersion in the ECM label catalog, but the compositions soon grew more complex.

Elements were chopped and resampled, then layered with bass, drums, percussion, and additional keys. The result is a fusion of live band acoustics and downtempo loops, sculpted into nine smoke-and-mirror dubs of fractured jazz, soft-focus noir, and trip-hop dust: Recollection.

Like the title implies, Long’s playing and production share a mood of pensive movement, shuffling and rippling like uncertain memories at strange hours.

From looming fog (“Present Day,” “Neon Ruins”) and shadowy breaks (“Another Space,” “Cloudy Vagueness”) to rosy glows (“Clear Photograph”) and smeared reverie (“White Sky”), Recollection deftly wields its palette of gradient color and subdued states of beauty.

His is a music of reduction and reflection, kinetic but oblique, attuned to the silhouettes of sound.

Dark Industrial Techno/doomcore.
Stickered Black sleeve.

This is a very Fifth Era feeling, with a lod of creative rhythm for an ultimate battlefield of Goddodin.

Splendid Dark nerves.

Destroy All Neighbors is a twisted splatter-comedy about a deranged journey of self-discovery full of goopy practical FX, a well-known ensemble cast, and LOTS of blood. William Brown (Jonah Ray Rodrigues), is a neurotic, self-absorbed musician determined to finish his prog-rock magnum opus, facing a creative roadblock in the form of a noisy and grotesque neighbor named Vlad (Alex Winter).

He finally works up the nerve to demand that Vlad keep it down, and William inadvertently decapitates him. But, while attempting to cover up one murder, William's accidental reign of terror causes victims to pile up and become undead corpses who torment and create more bloody detours on his road to prog-rock Valhalla. The soundtrack is an infectious slice of progressive rock cues, EDM freakouts, 80’s synth pop and so much more by the brilliant Ryan Kattner & Brett Morris. Released in conjunction with SUB POP Records, and features an original song by MAN MAN, artwork by Johnny Dombrowski, and pressed on coloured vinyl.

The mood is dark to melancholic, but also majestic and epic. Hailing from Rome, THE FORESHADOWING are something like the musical equivalent of the city they come from. Founded in 2005, the group can look back on a successful and eventful history. Listeners of gothic, doom and dark metal are very familiar with the quartet's work. THE FORESHADOWING gained popularity in the international scene with four acclaimed albums released between 2007 and 2016: "Days of Nothing" (2007), "Oionos" (2010), "Second World" (2012) and "Seven Heads, Ten Horns" (2016). In 2023, THE FORESHADOWING ended a forced break of several years with the EP "Forsaken Songs" and a European tour with Saturnus and In The Woods. Now, "New Wave Order" is the group's fifth full length album and their debut on LIFEFORCE RECORDS. The formation from Rome emphasizes its strengths on the album and offers cinematic tracks of dark music that is nevertheless immensely catchy and mood-enhancing. While listening to "New Wave Order", you are whisked away into a world full of secrets and allusions. The path is THE FORESHADOWING's goal, which manifests itself in all-encompassing, organically developed musicality. The Italians are outstanding songwriters who create captivating arcs of suspense and also keep an eye on the overarching strands. Nothing else can be expected from this eternal band.

Kumio Kurachi is a Japanese singer-songwriter who has been active since the 1980's.

This is his 11th solo album and only the second to be released outside of Japan following ‘Sound of Turning Earth’ (2018) on bison. Though his songs are written and performed primarily on guitar, “Open Today” is a return to Kurachi’s full, multi-instrumental recording style - featuring drums, bass, strings, keys and Kurachi’s rich, distinctive vocals in multiple voicings. Incredibly, all instrumental performances and arrangements were performed and recorded by Kurachi himself - marking a brilliant return to the fully fleshed out visionary world we fell in love with on Supermarket Chitose (Enban, 2006). The super fine detail and dense landscapes of ‘Open Today’ should come as no surprise really - Kurachi is an illustrator by trade and it bleeds right through to his music. Even to the non-native speaker Kurachi’s vocals hold centre stage - at times enormous and thundering over urgent guitar and toms, then switching to softly spoken words amongst keys. Frequently Kurachi multiplies, whether multitracking himself or summoning voices for the characters he writes from sightings on train platforms or supermarkets. His lyrics - translated to English for both formats - are more like poetry, and though written about the mundane they quickly become surreal, bringing the quality of dreams into the everyday. The hours spent on buses, trains or walking home towards a cheap flat - familiar to us all - are catalysts for microcosms of detail.

Again, we shouldn’t be surprised - Kurachi is well known in Japan for winning the national championship of NHK's "Poetry Boxing" in 2002, which also might explain his amazing Discogs photo. Poet, illustrator, multi-instrumentalist - Kurachi is thought of by many as a genius. He’s worked with Jim O’Rourke, Tori Kudo, Eiko Ishibashi and Taku Unami (who did the mastering on this LP). There are lines to be drawn between Kurachi and Kazuki Tomokawa or Kan Mikami, but also Francis Plagne and Fairport Convention.

Ultimately though there is nothing else like it - it’s a brand of strange songcraft that’s totally captivating.

Reissue of the debut full-length album by the leader of the Ukrainian band Edenian, Max Molodtsov, offers a 50-minutes long journey to the world of gloomy and hasteless, but atmospheric doom-death, where brutal elements are contrasted by melancholic interludes.The lyrics of the "Of Ruins..." album are based on the classical English poetry from the 19th century and the original author's verses. Mixed and mastered at Slow Burn Studio (When Nothing Remains, Crypt Of Silence).

Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, and with some notable guest appearances including; The Bug, Douglas Leal of Deafkids, Wayne Adams of Petbrick, Dave French of Yob and Sanford Parker, this final part of the Harvestman Triptych seeks once again for a lost world, with the voice of poet Ezra Pound extolling the virtues of "gathering from the air a live tradition".
Cloudy Clear plus Black Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket. Limited and Non-Returnable.
At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.

Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, Triptych is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all. It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

"Herne's Oak" provides seismic bass waves that physically halt the track in its steps - giant footfalls as Herne's antlers themselves are dragged along a corridor. Another curious and mysterious piece of British folklore brought to life by Harvestman.

If Triptych is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with Triptych itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

Cover art is by Henry Hablak, who also designed the art for Part One and Part Two.

We Will Be Wherever The Fires Are Lit, a sort of sequel to Tashi"s first DC release Stateless, takes the torch and storms forward, with ten improvised acoustic guitar anthems. These musical thoughts are torn from the fabric of Tashi"s life and music. "Strumming in opposition to the towers" (as he puts it) is part of an existence that is always political, even in its most abstract iterations - a truth laid bare in these deep, raw performances.

we will be wherever the fires are lit, a sort of sequel to Tashi"s first DC release Stateless, takes the torch and storms forward, with ten improvised acoustic guitar anthems. These musical thoughts are torn from the fabric of Tashi"s life and music. "Strumming in opposition to the towers" (as he puts it) is part of an existence that is always political, even in its most abstract iterations - a truth laid bare in these deep, raw performances.

THE SMELL OF DEATH CRAWLS OUT OF THE TOMBS... ...hailing from Turkey let's welcome the classic Death Metal squad ABOLISH to the FDA Records roster. Without any demo or EP release let's start with the debut full length album '...From The Depths". Rotten and morbid female fronted Death Metal for fans of CEREBRAL ROT, GRAVE MIASMA or DISMA. '...From The Depths' was recorded, mixed and mastered by Ozan Y?ld?r?m-Atakan Güçlü at Deadhouse studio, coverartwork by Ozan Y?ld?r?m.

Grünes Vinyl, limitiert auf 350 Exemplare. ASTRAL KOMPAKT sezieren die Psych-Metal-Blaupause von Sleep und Electric Wizard sorgfältig, indem sie diese verlangsamen, differenzieren und ihre Essenz abstrahieren. Goldader perfektioniert die Kunst, Komplexität und klangliche Brutalität raffiniert erscheinen zu lassen. Mit Goldader schaffen Sie eine neue Konversation, in der Heaviness kein Ziel, sondern ein Mittel zum Zweck ist.

Screaming suburban blues straight from the pages of HeartattaCk magazine, Current exploded out of the early-’90s Midwestern emo scene in a fit of D.C. hardcore-inspired rage. Spread across three LPs, Yesterday’s Tomorrow Is Not Today compiles the quartet’s lone album, two EPs, split 7”s with Indian Summer and Chino Horde, miscellaneous compilation debris, and nine previously unissued alternates, including the infamous KLXU radio show. Remixed and mastered from the original tapes, Current’s complete discography is annotated in Leor Galil’s exhaustive survey, illustrated with period photos, flyers, and cut-n-paste sleeve art across 24 pages.

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

Repress!

There was huge demand on the first issue - now released in a standard edition. Limited. Be Quick!

Hot double LP of beats and scattered rhymes (JPEGMAFIA, Retro X & Jeshi feature) from this highly inventive producer. Having gained notoriety for his work with Frank Ocean and Travis Scott among others, Only Diamonds Cut Diamonds is overjoyed, heady and nervous at once. It offers a proper introduction to the massively imaginative sound of Vegyn.

In the eternal city of Rome, where the whispers of cryptic ecclesiastical hierarchies still linger, FELDSPAR emerges as a musical enigma, delving into the shadows to unravel, with a certain dose of irony and creativity, the clandestine threads of power. Named after a mineral purportedly worn by a covert Roman clergy, this entity consists of six eclectic souls working tirelessly to expose the elusive puppeteers who have shaped the lives of millions of people since the beginning of time. Formed in late 2023 and based just a stone's throw from the Vatican, the Godless folk two blocks from the Pope, FELDSPAR's journey begins with the legendary Andrew Mecoli, founder of the iconic Growing Concern, Mecoli's guitar riffs echo the peculiar spirit of Italian hardcore. Joining him is Stefano Casanica, a prolific songwriter and producer, whose musical odyssey spans decades with undertakings in Undertakers, Craiving, Crude, and collaborations that transcend genres. Casanica's production magic is immortalized in Noyz Narcos cult classic 'Non dormire', a cornerstone of Italian hardcore rap with millions of streamings so far. Old City, New Ruins," the debut album of Feldspar, takes its title from Rome, the city where the band is based. It depicts the contemporary ruins of the capital, yet it's merely a pretext to expose the complexities of everyday life common to Western societies and their major cities, foremost among them.

Overgrown Eden is the debut album from Essex rock band InMe. The album was released in the UK in 2003 and produced four singles: ""Underdose"", ""Firefly"", ""Crushed like Fruit"" and ""Neptune"". The highest UK Album Chart position was No. 15. However, it reached No. 1 in the Rock Album Chart. For the first time, Overgrown Eden is expanded with an additional bonus LP featuring 10 non-album tracks.

Overgrown Eden (Expanded Edition) is available as a limited edition of 666 individually numbered copies on translucent green coloured vinyl and includes a renewed insert with lyrics.

We are excited to announce that we have a limited number of the highly sought-after "Asteroide" 2 LP gatefold albums available. This critically acclaimed release by Akhenaton (IAM) and Just Music Beats has been a favorite among collectors and music enthusiasts, and we are down to the last few copies in our inventory.

limited edition 2xlp of 3138 copies on opaque white 180 gram vinyl LP1 original album remastered by Bob Weston LP2 full album remixed from original multi-track almasters liner notes by Steve Albini and Ethan Buckler gatefold jacket with full color inner sleeves hand numbered 1 through 3138 SLINT is a band from Louisville, Kentucky. tweez was its first recording. LP1: Originally recorded by Steve Albini and released in 1989, tweez has been remastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Studio from the original analog master tapes. LP2: tweethan mix. Per Ethan Buckler (Slint bassist on tweez), "Finally - after thirty-five long years - the other guys in Slint decided to be nice to me and let me have my Tweez remix. I complained incessantly back in the day about how the Albini production style ruined our first recording." In 2023, Ethan took the original multi-track recordings to a local studio in Louisville. Upon handing the engineer a copy of a pre-tweez Slint practice tape, he said "Make it sound like this." LP2 of this "tweez (35th anniversary edition)" is the result. Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Studio.

4 Jahre sind vergangen, seit "Endless Wound" Stigmata auf der Menschheit hinterlassen hat, aber seid sicher, Black Curse werden sich jetzt noch tiefer einschneiden. Eine Platte, die wegen ihrer ekstatischen Rücksichtslosigkeit und massiven fanatischen Bösartigkeit schockieren soll. Aber das was tief unter den Kompositionen schwebt, öffnet die Türen zu einer Welt, die so unglaublich groß ist, dass man Gefahr läuft, sich in ihr zu verlieren. Und diese Tiefen entziehen sich jeglicher Exegese.

4 Flüche wurden in 4 Hymnen absoluter Todesmagie verwoben. Und diese werden einen in den schwarzen Abgrund des großen Göttlichen führen. Das Album wurde erneut vom unbestrittenen Meister Arthur Rizk produziert, der mit seiner außergewöhnlich dichten und zerstörerischen Produktion mal wieder alle Erwartungen übertrifft. "Burning in Celestial Poison" klingt, als wäre es mit dunklen magischen Formeln aus einer sehr viel tieferen Welt erschaffen. Um die Erhabenheit dieses Albums zu erkennen, müssen andere Sichtweisen und Wertigkeiten definiert werden. In dieser Welt wird es als hässlich und bedrückend gelten. Und zwar von denjenigen, die nicht in der Lage sind, sich diesen bodenlosen Abgründen hinzugeben.
Es bricht absichtlich mit allen modernen Hörgewohnheiten, vermeidet alle Regeln der Songlänge und -struktur und erzielt genau dann das beste Ergebnis, wenn es in Dunkelheit und bei maximaler Lautstärke erlebt wird.

"Burning in Celestial Poison" beginnt, mäandert und endet mit einem prophetischen Grollen, das sicherlich aus der Welt stammt, der wir uns noch stellen müssen, nämlich der Welt in Flammen.