Cerca:sarcastic

Bad Wolves refuse to follow. Instead, the platinum-certified Los Angeles band — John Boecklin drums, Daniel 'DL' Laskiewicz lead vocals, Doc Coyle [lead guitar, backing vocals] and Kyle Konkiel [bass, backing vocals] — circumvent convention by stretching the boundaries of hard rock with earthquaking heaviness, enigmatic experimentation and enthralling melodies. Bulldozing boundaries is nothing new for the boys and their upcoming album, 'Die About It, maintains that narrative. With a story that emphasises the sarcastic statement pointed towards those defending their own beliefs into absurdity, wrong or right, Bad Wolves believe that if you're gonna cry about it then you might as well Die About It,

During the peak of Australia's post-punk scene, Melbourne's The Wreckery captivated with their darkly atmospheric rock, combining swamp blues, noir-jazz, and deadpan rock. Fast forward 35 years, and "Fake is Forever" resurrects The Wreckery's signature sound, featuring Charles Todd's baritone sax, Hugo Race's poignant lyrics, and Clayton-Jones' angular guitars. With Nick Barker and Frank Trobbiani providing a solid rhythm, this iconic band delivers an album that ranges from sarcastic and provocative tracks like "Smack Me Down" to romantic melodrama in "The Devil in You," all with a quieter yet equally menacing and intoxicating presence compared to their '80s brashness.

Written during a year of hedonistic isolation whilst exiled to a forgotten mining village, 'Alecs in Wonderland’ is the debut self-produced rap album by rap enigma and ‘one man band’ Alecs DeLarge.

Alecs navigates ‘Wonderland’ with a bulging backpack of references to 90’s Toonami imports, king skins and rap nerdology, multi-syllable boxing through beats in a smoked out stream-of-consciousness drawl. From the cartoonish braggadocio on ‘Scooby Snax’ and ‘AM To AM’, to proclaiming his love for his anthropomorphic MPC 2000 on ‘Girl Joint’, Alecs emphatically proving that he’s much more than just the man behind the boards.

Merging classic New York rap sensibilities with sarcastic British humour, 110’s and Berghaus coats taking the place of Timb boots and Lo sweaters.

Wonderland is Alecs’ custom built version of The Matrix, a perfect world created to escape the one outside his council flat window, idyllic living in Lynchian reality. A therapeutic outpouring of the lonely man’s psyche, or maybe just a slow descent into madness, polished and delivered to your ears in Long Play form.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic traveling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviors are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behavior has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behavior and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic travelling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviours are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behaviour has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behaviour and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Birds chirp through a tape-hiss breeze atop a bed of airy pads, and a cleareyed, forlorn guitar springs forth: this is the beginning of the debut album from Sans Merit, a new rock project from Griffin James, otherwise known as Francis Inferno Orchestra.

For over a decade, the Melbourne-raised—and now L.A.-based—producer has been indulging his indie and alt interests, and this fuzzed-out bedroom janglepop and shoegaze LP, Early Grave, is his first extensive deliverance.

The album represents a gestalt of sorts: years of approaching different genres and songwriting styles, and producing not “in the box,” with soft synths and
samples, but with live instruments (and sometimes a band), has led to this focused and succinct thirteen-track musical journey.

In pursuit of a pure and low-key aesthetic, James recorded demos on phones and chose to rely heavily on budget instruments, clapped-out synths, and
crappy amps, and would often cut tapes live in bedrooms, lay down vocal takes in closets and put microphones to broken speakers, all in part of the quest of using limited resources to create a truthful body of work. The finishing touch is a thick coating of nostalgia ooze; soundbites from internet clips flitter throughout the record, and goofy sound effects flicker above like dying incandescent bulbs.

A dream-pop album for our times: its lyrics are off-kilter romantic musings, sarcastic self-loathing mumbles, reflections on the unrealness of real life.

Lo Fidelity is back with another edition of Rave Invaders. This time Lennard Ypma drops a diverse selection of tracks, ranging from utterly deranged acid, classic house, and electro to a track that you can see as a sarcastic take on what modern society is doing to humanity. That's not all though: Legowelt joined in and made a remix of the acid-infused electro track "Wolf Men", transforming it into a spaced-out house tune that entirely morphs into total kick madness halfway, being a true potential closing anthem for the heavier sets.

‘Living Rooms’ is a full-blooded debut of rich, playful, experimental pop from the artist Fe Salomon – full of unabashedly big songs and sumptuously big sounds. Fe’s soulful and arresting lead vocals weave amongst soaring strings and big band brass sections; clattering percussion and disjunctive rhythms; dirty electro synth and butchered guitar. A collaboration with producer and contemporary classical composer Johnny Parry, ‘Living Rooms’ is a true pop album with a distinct, exuberant and deeply generous sound.

Born in Northampton, Fe moved to London at 18 for a place at Theatre College; but soon left to concentrate on music and songwriting, falling quickly into the Camden music scene, and earning her a prolific career as a singer. Building on her diverse musical background and honing her unusual sonic style, this album has been percolating at the back of Fe’s mind for a long time. The perfect storm of personal and external factors thus created the moment to make it. ‘Living Rooms’ tells stories of multiple lives lived and lost

in the city, of friendships that meant everything and the characters you’ll never meet again, of transience and loneliness, and of getting by and moving on.

At the forefront of the album is an organic and fiercely honest lead vocal performance. However, Fe permits her voice to be twisted and distorted into the fabric of the instrumentation. The un-doctored lead vocals are frequently haunted by angels and demons, created through Fe’s uninhibited willingness to this manipulation, and capturing the more visceral emotions within the expression of the human voice.

‘Living Rooms’ navigates a wide spectrum of sounds and emotions. Take album opener “Polka Dot”, a track that mixes emotive vocals with an avant-garde alt/pop production to conjure a cut as stylish as it is shrouded in shadowy mystique. A track “about mourning innocence, and the darkness that’s picked up along the way, with an ‘up yours’ sarcastic tone, and not wanting to grow old”, it sets the scene for a twisting collection that up-ends expectations at every opportunity.

Elsewhere, the chunky hooks of “Super Human”, the sci-fi/country/big band of “Wired of Caffeine”, or the intimately sung vocals and Vaughan-Williams-esque string sections of “Taxicabs”, all contribute to an album that evolves like a rich and constantly surprising tapestry.

Although the conception of the album was a frenzy of wild experimentation. The album is faithful too, and celebratory of many joyous pop traditions; but searches for ways to reinterpret the familiar. And no less so than on the off-kilter centre-piece “Quintessential England”. Through wry lyricism and vivid imagination, the track paints a lucid, if lonely, depiction of a life lived out in the sticks; one that ultimately arrives at the conclusion that perhaps “the grass isn’t always greener”.

Gifted with the kind of superpowers that have blessed Alison Goldfrapp with her unwavering glam-pop allure and Stevie Nicks with that invincible soul, Fe Salomon’s empowering first release will prove she’s cut from the same cloth and ready to be your newest musical hero.

Genre : Pop / Cinema / French Chanson. "De l'amour mais quelle drôle d'idée" is definitely the music album of an actress. Result of her collaboration with the french composer & singer Léonard Lasry who composed and produced entirely this album, it features 10 songs specially created to be performed as cinéma scenes on pop melodies with luxury arrangements. The poetry of the lyrics written by Elisa Point talks about intimacy with tenderness, melancholy with at some points several sarcastic touches. The album ends by "Via Condotti" performed as a duet with Léonard Lasry, already released last spring, and been the starting point of this surprising and enchanting album. Tracklist : 1. Magnifique N'est-Ce Pas 2. Ne Fais Pas Attention À Mon Amour 3. Non Je Ne Vois Pas Qui Vous Êtes 4. Je Ne Suis Pas Celle Que Tu Crois 5. De L'amour Mais Quelle Drôle D'idée 6. C'est Écrit Là Dans Nos Yeux 7. Roulette Russe 8. Assez Voyagé 9. Qui Vous Envoie ? 10. Via Condotti

Yellow and black splatter

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

The first progressive girl group of the French Occitan language
pop scene bring you folk funk, sun-baked bossa, Coltrane jazz and
their own brand of punky ‘Dizco Rural’ against an untouched
French Balearic backdrop spanning the late 70s and 80s.
If even the most assiduous of European record collectors consider
the Occitan language music scene to be France’s best-kept secret
then it’s as fair to say that the incredible multifaceted recordings of
langue d’oc prog girl group Lei Chapacans have spent the last four
decades hiding in plain sight. In all fairness this overlooked
treasure chest of minority language excursions into folk funk,
Balearic, bossa, John Coltrane-penned jazz, baroque psych,
Palestinian poetry, comedic synth skits (and even the rawest form
of femme-fronted multilingual punky disco) has been stowed away
in inconspicuous photographic record sleeves, falsely evoking
something closer to contemporary C&W while oft-misplaced in
record shop cassette racks alongside ‘traditional’ spoken-word and
scholastic albums.
So, for the uninitiated, don’t be too hard on yourself. The fun starts
here. For those who are familiar with the rare and sought-after
one-off solo album by Occitan singer Miquela and have craved for
more, then you’ve come to exactly the right place. Lei Chapacans
(a name that roughly translates to The Vagabonds) is the all-girl
vocal group assembled by Miquela herself just two years after her
debut release, having toured the word and snubbed major label
record deal offers with a steadfast allegiance to the protection of
the Occitan language in which this album is primarily penned and
performed (minus a small amount of German and sarcastic
English in one rebellious instance).
For European collectors with a penchant for French savoir faire,
but have further yearnings for folkloric femme funk, then it’s time
to look towards the Occitan sunset where you will meet Lolo,
Miquela, Sophie, Irena and Denise.
These amazing, and undeniably culturally important recordings
might have taken some time to find a wider audience, but for
music lovers, crate diggers and vinyl vultures alike there are still a
lot of tasty morsels out there to be scavenged and devoured, ask
any self-respecting Chapacan and they’ll concur wholeheartedly.

After 40 steamrolling, liver wrecking, gut stretching years in the name of heavy metal, the Tankard beer train isn’t slowing down. Right in time for the festivities surrounding their 40th birthday, our most favourite Frankfurters let “Pawlow’s Dawgs” off the leash, their 18th overall record and debut for new label amigos Reaper Entertainment. Produced and recorded at Gernhard Studio Troisdorf again together with Martin Buchwalter. The taps are polished, the Freibier is flowing and Tankard are finally back to what they do best five long years after their last studio album: Thrashing madly, drinking thirstily and ever so cleverly intertwining metal, humour and sarcastic social commentary into one big raucous ball of entertainment. Just like they did all these years ago in a classroom where they drank beer out of emptied milk cartons. All hail Tankard. All hail the dawgs. The world is a better place with capital guys like them waiting at the bar.

After 40 steamrolling, liver wrecking, gut stretching years in the name of heavy metal, the Tankard beer train isn’t slowing down. Right in time for the festivities surrounding their 40th birthday, our most favourite Frankfurters let “Pawlow’s Dawgs” off the leash, their 18th overall record and debut for new label amigos Reaper Entertainment. Produced and recorded at Gernhard Studio Troisdorf again together with Martin Buchwalter. The taps are polished, the Freibier is flowing and Tankard are finally back to what they do best five long years after their last studio album: Thrashing madly, drinking thirstily and ever so cleverly intertwining metal, humour and sarcastic social commentary into one big raucous ball of entertainment. Just like they did all these years ago in a classroom where they drank beer out of emptied milk cartons. All hail Tankard. All hail the dawgs. The world is a better place with capital guys like them waiting at the bar.

Mo Troper is truly one of a kind, and that’s never been more apparent than on his fifth full-length, the winkingly titled MTV. Arriving hot on the heels of his 2021 full-length, Dilettante, the album finds the Portland, OR-based power pop extraordinaire diving further into home-recorded immediacy to make a record that feels like a strikingly direct conduit to the world of Mo–where heartbreak, hilarity, and hooks all go hand-inhand.

MTV hurtles through 15 songs in just 31 minutes, with most of the tracks never even coming close to the three-minute mark. The sequence feels like a combination of a fever dream and a travel diary, intertwining tales of romantic longing with the ups and downs

of cross-country touring. Songs like “Across The USA,” “Royal Jelly,” or “Coke Zero” unravel the headaches and heartbreaks, often alternating between unflinching emotional details and legitimately funny one-liners. “I feel like I’m just in this mode of rebelling against the expectation for artists to be emotionally or aesthetically cohesive,” Troper says. “I think about all my favorite records and songwriters, and they’re often these people who would have really depressing stuff and then insane moments of levity that don’t get talked about as much. I want to make music that’s emotional but also campy or sarcastic or resonates in other ways. I’m like, ‘you know what, it’s all me.’”

A few years back I had this dream: I was walking through vast grasslands
towards a solitary hill
On top of the hill was a movie house. On the marquee: History of Jazz.I kept
thinking about it. What was in the movie house? What happened before? What
followed? Why was I going there? Why "History of Jazz"? To reach some kind of
insight, I began a film script, extending the dream tenfold. The script morphed
into a novella-sized book, a series of songs, and finally, a "mind-movie" podcast,
forming this labyrinthine, multi- medium story – equal parts dream, film and
waking life. Figuring out how to transcend the traditional parameters of the album
to create a more panoramic story- vision is something I've been unconsciously
trying to do for some time. I've been pushing against the edges – toying with
narrative, characters and visuals with Easterween and Niagara, a weird children's
book Daydreams for Night – but the scope of life behind Rialto felt too
irrepressible and expansive to be boxed in an album. The book and podcast have
kicked open the doors – allowing the album to lead or serve where it should.In
Rialto's extended narrative, Klaus (loner, insomniac) is working a stint as a driver
for a small town writer's festival. Following a series of unsettling paranormal
events, he finds himself agreeing to a strange request - to deliver a film reel in
time for its premiere at a secluded movie house - the Rialto. The journey leads
him through a circuit of strangely located, oracular movie houses, screening a mix
of dreams, fantasies, memories and prophecies - numinous films of personal
revelation. Inhabiting the movie houses are underworld characters and spirits
with ambiguous motivations, some helping and some hindering Klaus's quest. It's
a Dantesque, deep cleanse pilgrimage to untangle bitterness and trauma,
rediscover a lost clairvoyance, ancestry, and ultimately, the medicinal source of
eternal youth. A metaphysical noir. A hyperstition.Rialto's album stars seven
singer-artists playing characters alongside mine: Tamara Lindeman (The Weather
Station), Daniel Knox, Thom Gill (Owen Pallet, Beverly Glenn- Copeland), Ryan
Driver (Jennifer Castle), Felicity Williams (Bahamas), Robin Dann (Bernice) and
Martin Tielli (Rheostatics). All Toronto- based like me except Daniel (Chicago).
Performed by the Venuti String Quartet with arrangements by Andrew Downing.
Produced by Jean Martin (Tanya Tagaq). It's my 13th album and fourth on Tin
Angel - previous releases on Tin Angel: Miracle In The Night (2019), Small Town
Water Tower (2016), and Niagara (2014). Each of Rialto's eight podcast episodes
features a chapter from the book performed by a cast of twenty five - made up
almost entirely of musicians – including the speaking voices of the
aforementioned singers, as well as Meg Remy (U.S. Girls), Claudia Dey, Veda Hille,
Devon Sproule, Luka Kuplowsky and others. Rialto is available as a 101-page eBook (illustrations by David Ouimet) on Sud de Valeur Press. Premiere
performances begin fourth quarter 2021. Happy Rialto listening, reading,
watching, dreaming...

Sarcastic slacker garage rock with self-consciously winsome lyrics, The Driving Stupid's previously unreleased album plays like a garage group providing the soundtrack for a Z-grade horror-science fiction film!

Red Vinyl

nown for her delicate compositions, soaked in dream-like surrealism, Icelandic musician Sóley has attracted a huge following since launching her solo career back in 2010. Her 2012 single ‘Pretty Face’ went on to generate an enormous amount of buzz, and quickly became a viral sensation. Now, with three solo LPs under her belt, Sóley is preparing to debut a completely new sound via the release of her new concept album, Mother Melancholia, on October 22nd.

Described by the artist as "Nosferatu meets Thelma and Louise in a vampire church under the watchful eye of David Lynch", Mother Melancholia is the soundtrack to the end of the world as we know it. As a self-confessed news addict, Sóley became obsessed with the idea that the world is ending. Having surrounded herself with real-life stories of global warming and patriarchal politics she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to die. This feeling was so all encompassing that it sparked the idea for a new project. Could there be a soundtrack for the last days of humans on earth? How would that sound?

“I read books about possible dystopian worlds and started writing poems about irrational and in love characters who live in gray and cold imaginary loneliness. In each other’s burning arms. Walking in circles with no way out” she explains. “After all, the album reflects our life here and now. Our life and reality is a kind of dystopian world.”

Whilst writing the album, which serves as a tongue-in-cheek eulogy to our planet, Sóley began reading about ecofeminism, a branch of feminism which uses the concept of gender to analyse the relationship between humans and the natural world. Ecofeminism emphasizes that both women and nature must be respected but also separated. Since the beginning of time, the natural world has been synonymous with female identity, phrases like Mother Nature are commonplace. “The patriarchy views women as volatile and hysterical. Earth and women are either our saviours or our destroyers,” explains Sóley. “It’s so easy to abuse the earth, like the patriarchy has abused women since the dawn of time, then ask for forgiveness afterwards and promise they´ll never do it again”.

The new album sees Sóley move away from the indie-pop of her previous releases. She began by experimenting with writing songs on the accordion, allowing her a new sense of freedom in her writing. The process allowed her to broaden her horizons even further and experiment with a whole range of new and exciting sounds. “I bought myself a theremin as I was really excited about the unpitched sound and there is no perfect pitch during the end of days,” she laughs. “I also bought a mellotron, my first moog and a cello and taught myself how to play each of them. All of these new instruments are particularly suitable for the kinds of aesthetic inconveniences which I have learned to embrace.”

Album opener ‘Sunrise Skulls’, one of the most cinematic moments on the album, was inspired by the Me Too and SlutWalk movements and tells the story of a group of women who rise up and fight the patriarchy. ‘Blows Up’, a track that would be at home on any horror soundtrack, is a sarcastic love letter from the Earth to humans. Standout track ‘Desert’ is an incredibly moving song dedicated to the next generation. “It’s about the guilt you feel, as a mother, for having children and leaving them on the frontline. My daughter, for example, will take over this inevitable war” explains Sóley.

In true soundtrack style, the album flows through the end of the world in chronological order, closing with the Earth’s final moments. ‘Sundown’ is a dark piano ballad detailing human kind’s final day on Earth. “And everyday, I dig my own grave, and as I dive in you´ll hold my hand” she sings, over twinkling piano and swirling synths. We then hear the world end on ‘XXX’, a dark and swirling soundscape that swells before fading to silence. On ‘Elegía’ the silence then turns to the sound of the ocean, as we hear the Earth, like a woman finally free from a violent relationship, healing on her own.

Mother Melancholia is the mark of an artist confidently striding into more experimental territory. With a lengthy and successful career behind her, Sóley felt compelled to try something new and express the real her. The music might be shrouded in darkness but it’s a move that fills her with joy and freedom. “I hope that people not only enjoy the new sound, but also that Mother Melancholia might raise some questions in people, particularly women,” she says. “I’m under no illusions that this album will change the world but I hope that people can connect with the idea”.

guccihighwaters is the artistic persona of 21 year -old artist/producer Morgan Murphy. Since his debut single in 2017, Murphy has exploded in the cloud rap community and his music has been streamed over 200 Million times. His new album, joke's on you, is his debut for Epitaph Records and will be his first available on vinyl. guccihighwaters is the keystone to the label's dedication to this sound that we feel is the future of Alternative music. Spending his formative years growing up in rural Ireland, Murphy was shy and when his family returned to their native New York, that shy 15 year-old turned to bedroom production and starting making his own beats. He began to indulge his musical vision by exploring community on the internet, finding a place to belong that he had not found prior. As a singer, Murphy was a bit of an outsider to the Soundcloud rap world he'd begun to orbit. "I was grouped in because of the time and place and platform," he says. His use of original piano with a classic touch and his angelic singing gave him an original voice with?in the scene's crowded world. Even if he wanted to blend in, he didn't know how. With Jokes On You, he says, "basically my goal was to make it sound like me." Some members of that community, like Powfu and nothing,nowhere, feature on the album, adding their voices to Murphy's signature sound. guccihighwaters is a top digital artist in the Indie Pop/Cloud Rap space, releasing his music on vinyl for the first time. Album features include lo-fi sensation powfu, top emo-rapper Convolk and popular alt-hip-hop artist nothing, nowhere. For Fans of powfu, Lil Peep, nothing, nowhere and Lund.

With his ongoing commitment to like-minded archivist label Finders Keepers Records, industrial music pioneer Steven Stapleton further entrusts us to lift the veil and expose “the right tracks” from his uber-legendary and oft misinterpreted psych/prog/punk peculiarity shopping list known as The Nurse With Wound List.
Following the critically lauded first instalment and it’s exclusively French tracklisting both parties now combine their vinyl-vulturous penchants to bring you the next ‘Strain Crack & Break’ edition which consists of twelve lesser-known German records that played a hugely important part in the initial foundations of the list which began to unfold when Stapleton was just thirteen years old.
From the perspective of a schoolboy Amon Düül (ONE) victim, at the start of a journey that commenced before phrases like kosmische and the xeno-ignant Krautrock tag had become mag hack currency, this compendium is devoid of the tropes that united what many would accurately argue to be the greatest progressive pop bands in Europe
(namely CAN, Neu! and Kraftwerk) and rather shatters the ingredients across a ground zero landscape for both inquisitive fans and socially rehabbing musos to begin to assemble a unique self-styled identity. If Krautrock was the music that journalist told us lurked behind schlager (German pop) in the 1970s, then this record includes the music that skulked behind Krautrock and perhaps refused to polish its backhanded name belt.
Including lesser-known artists like the late Wolfgang Dauner, whose career proceeded and outlived the kosmische movement while consistently informing and outsmarting them whenever they got stuck in their metronomic ruts, or how about Fritz Müller, the man who
was to Kraftwerk what Stuart Sutcliffe was to The Beatles but had more in common with Yoko and quite rightly couldn’t give a stuff about the Fab Four’s Hamburg roots.
Elsewhere we have a plethora of German bands made for German audiences as they try and shed secondhand flower power Americanisms and feel the benefits of much harder drugs and the realisations of difficult second album budgets while Kommune 1
newsflashes wipe smiles from everybody’s faces and replace them with opioid chic or acid-sarcastic grins. Bonzo Cockettes show us their Big Muffs and drummers ask for extra mics while Conny Plank goes for parliamentary office and gives babies good firm handshakes for the camera.
‘Strain Crack & Break: Volume Two’ is the sound of Steve Stapleton’s sponge-like mind and the dividends of anyone who was brave enough to even peek inside those brick-thick gatefold covers never mind drop the needle.
Over forty years since Nurse With Wound’s first album was released, Finders Keepers Records and Steve Stapleton take connoisseurs of our kind of music back to the disused elevator shaft towards ground zero. Arriving at the same checkout from different departments, Finders Keepers and Nurse With Wound continue to sing from the same hymnal with this ongoing collaborative attempt to officially, authentically and legally compile the best tracks from Steve’s list, where many overzealous erds have faltered (or simply, got the wrong end of the stick).
After ‘Strain Crack & Break: Volume One’ merely scratched the surface of this DIY dossier of elongated punk-prog peculiarities, this second lavish metallic gatefold double vinyl compendium drives a much deeper groove which, in accordance with Steve’s wishes, focusses exclusively on individual tracks of German origin - the country whose music forged the prototype of the NWW inventory in the form of his secondary school vinyl wantlist in the early 1970s, comprised of disassembled free jazz, unshowered stoner psych, hypnotic prog, deranged monk funk and fuzzed out Deutschmark bin bonzo beats.