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Wiederveröffentlichung zweier Alben in farbigem Vinyl (140g).
Wir feiern das 5-jährige Jubiläum des Debütalbums der australischen Blues-Rock-Gruppe – benannt nach
den beiden Brüdern, die sie gegründet haben. Mit den Songs „Crying Shame“ und „Shiny Moon“. Das
Album wird zum ersten Mal auf orangefarbenem Vinyl veröffentlicht.
Run Home Slow ist das zweite Album der Teskey Brothers aus dem Jahr 2019. Die australische Band
besteht aus zwei Brüdern (Josh und Sam Teskey) und ihren Freunden Liam Gough und Brendon Love. Auf
der Bühne ist die Band so stark wie keine andere in der Branche und bringt Bläser und Tasten ins Spiel,
um eine Show zu liefern, die mit meisterhafter Kontrolle auf und ab geht. Man kann nur vermuten, wie
weit die Teskey Brothers mit ihrer Musik gehen werden, aber alle Anzeichen deuten bisher darauf hin, dass
die Liebe für diese besondere Combo auf der ganzen Welt groß sein wird. Zum ersten Mal auf grünem
Vinyl präsentiert.

Since their formation in 1977 Mark Perry’s group Alternative TV have moved far away from their more direct punk rock beginnings into all manner of other areas of music that have sometimes themselves drawn from improvisation, free jazz, industrial and electronic music. On Direct Action, Alternative TV’s first studio album since Opposing Forces in 2015, we are presented with six instrumental tracks which steadily rip apart all expectations as they shed all allusions to rock music in favour of the kinda sonic mutilations that once helped 1979’s classic (and Nurse With Wound list endorsed) Vibing Up the Senile Man (Part One) stumble into weird and wonderful shapes. Direct Action marries guttural electronics to sounds most artists would consign to the bin and through Perry’s long perfected mastery of pulling together disparate strands to create something entirely alchemical and invigorating delivers a unique stamp to the ATV story. With the help of longtime collaborator Dave Morgan alongside the input of Gareth Matthews, Ruth Tidmarsh and Cos Chapman, abstract patterns of dishevelled sound rub alongside occasional percussion, disembodied plasma guitar strums and even what seems like an oboe groaning in a murky corner. Similar to its distant cousin of Vibing…, everything adds up to a whole that’s demanding yet completely rewarding as every listen prises open the dark scab of contemporary malaise to reveal something fresh. The front cover’s homage to an incredible album by a pioneering electronic group we are not going to name should in itself point to the unpredictable nature of the music here. If you are savvy enough to get that reference, then you’re on the right path to understanding where Direct Action resides. Easy listening this ain’t. Limited to 600

Tin Fingers takes on a darker, melancholic direction on their second full album. Felix Machtelinckx' weeping vocals, preaching, searching, and trying to understand God, form the leitmotif. With rich melodies, haunting piano sounds, improvisations, first takes and no overdubs, Tin Fingers is searching for pureness and keeping things human and simple. The band is playing together intuitively, without a computer, without ego, just for the sake of music

The creation of the album was very fluent and spontaneous. Singer Felix wrote the backbones of the songs and the lyrics on acoustic guitar and piano. He wanted to have songs ready in order to be able to record and write arrangements fast. With an eye for details but without overthinking, keeping the ideas fresh. 'I wanted to stay in love with the music.' he explains. 'It needed to go fast, very fast, in just two weeks the entire album was recorded and ready to be mixed.'

In the studio, the band especially focused on picking the right mood rather than playing the right notes.

They were fed up with working on a computer for many hours, overthinking production choices, and adding instruments on top of each other as if they were Lego blocks. This time they decided to work in a more traditional way, going for first takes, jams, and essentially working with analog gear. No computers, no screens, no distractions. Only four humans in a studio trying to make a sound together by keeping things spontaneous and raw. They said goodbye to perfection and worked towards an unfinished product, a snapshot.

Tin Fingers also didn't want to sound like any other artist on this record. They decided not to listen to music during the sessions, and to never express ideas by referencing other bands. Just before the studio session, however, bass player Simen Wouters broke the rules and shared Bonnie 'Prince' Billy's, I See Darkness. Its dark and searching sound ended up inspiring the band unmistakably.

Once the recording was finished, the band decided to keep the volatile rhythm going and asked reputable NYC-based mixer and producer D. James Goodwin to finish the job. Goodwin, known for his analog folk productions with a real American punchy sound but a tender touch, proved the right man for the job. He opened up the songs and kept things poetic, minimal but impressive.

Staff Pick in DJ Mag (print).

Sleek three tracker from Russ Brooker, a unknown quantity who is swiftly to become the name on everybody's lips, the 13threlease on Rua Sound.

"97-98" is every bit as sharp and shattered as any of the legendary tunes released in that storied era, with moody samples and a break so heavily pregnant with funk that it's a palpable relief when the levee breaks and it gives birth to some heavy rolling amens.

"Microfilm" starts off with a proper spy-flick title and immediately lives up to the name, with a cinematic sequence of cosmic cloak and dagger chimes and pads that quickly sprints off into the Pentagon in a brown flared suit with assorted extraterrestrials and the cast of Scooby Doo in hot pursuit – channelling crusty old Droppin' Science jams to great effect.

"Breathe" drops the tempo down to the 140-odd range with earthy rolling percussion, celestial atmospherics and the kind of studious and deliberate polyrhythmic funk wizardry that most producers don't cook up in a lifetime of releases, never mind on their honest-to-god-damn debut.

Back in the 1990s video games were still largely seen as nerdy: fun, sure, but basically a guilty pleasure that you’d soon grow out of. The release in 1995 of wipE'out'', a lightning-fast, razor-sharp, futuristic racing game that helped to launch the PlayStation in Europe and North America, changed all that. This was a game that looked and sounded both adult and cool, the kind of game you would put on display in your living room, rather than hide away under your bed. Key to this was the fact that wipE'out'' borrowed unashamedly from the clubbing experience and electronic music, in a way that put it at the heart of progressive mid 90s culture. It soon became a phenomenon.

wipE'out'' looked sensational, with Sheffield agency The Designers Republic - known for their work with Warp - creating the visuals, packaging and manual for the game, drawing heavily on the bright colours and excitable geometric shapes of the rave and club flyers of the early 90s.

wipE'out'' also sounded like a new rave dream. The European version of the game included music from The Chemical Brothers, Leftfield and Orbital, the kind of fashionable game syncs that were almost unheard of at the time. Equally striking was the game’s original music, which came from Welsh musician Tim Wright, aka CoLD SToRAGE, by this point already a veteran in the video games world, having worked on the music for Amiga titles such as Lemmings and Shadow of the Beast 2. His music for wipE'out'' was, if anything, even more extreme than the big-name syncs, mixing the accelerated beats of drum & bass with the pure synth rush of trance to make music that sounded as breathlessly exciting as playing the game felt.

These tracks were burned into the brains of millions of gamers; the soundtrack to a generation of late-night anti-gravity racing, as the sun gingerly rose beyond the curtains. But they haven’t, perhaps, quite got the respect they deserve, something that this release will address. In 2023, video game music is finally getting its dues; here, remastered and repackaged –and also remixed by cutting edge producers such as Kode9, μ-Ziq, Brainwaltzera, Simo Cell, Wordcolour, James Shinra, Surgeons Girl and Dattassette– are some of the most important, thrilling, innovative and most fun songs ever committed to game release.

Matt Tolfrey’s Leftroom imprint makes a triumphant return here with a remix package featuring Mathew Jonson, Silverlining, Maher Daniel and Sakro, all reworking cuts from his 2020 ‘All Shapes And Different Sizes’ LP. Across the past two decades the UK’s Matt Tolfrey has been at the forefront of the underground House and Techno scene, releasing material on many seminal labels in the industry such as REKIDS, Cocoon, Music For Freaks, Crosstown Rebels, mix compilations for fabric and Classic, and of course his very own Leftroom which returns here following its last vinyl release back in 2020 from Detroit’s Norm Talley and Ataxia.

Up first on remix duties is Canadian machine maestro Mathew Jonson who remixes ‘How It’s Gonna Be’ featuring Tim Fuller, offering up his signature twitchy synth work, robust analogue drums and cinematic leads running alongside the original’s hooky vocal lines. Maher Daniel steps up next to remix ‘Feel The Same’, opting for an intricate electro tinged drum workout, wavey subs and hypnotic vocal chants.

London’s Silverlining then reworks ‘Fantasy’ featuring Shaun J. Wright next, diving deeper via a skippy, swinging drum groove, airy dubbed out chords, snaking bass groove and soulful, intricately processed vocal licks. Lastly to round things out, Sakro remixes ‘Under The Skin' featuring Lil Mark, the Mexican artist reshapes the original with his unique drum-led, groove driven style, fusing crisp snares and shuffled percussion, alongside an amalgamation of choppy bass hits, bleepy synths and sweeping atmospherics.

Oslo-based sludge-metal power trio SAVER are back with a vengeance. The band's new album `From Ember And Rust' channels the bare-knuckle ferocity of their 2019 full-length debut, `They Came With Sunlight', alongside a formidable command of dynamic, texture and sonic space that belies the relative youth of the project. Having erupted into the Norwegian metal scene without warning, SAVER is the result of heavy veterans Ole Ulvik Rokseth, Markus Stole and Ole Christian Helstad combining their years of experience into one three-headed beast, hellbent on pushing the boundaries of what the band is collectively capable of. Restless by nature, SAVER are constantly refining and reinventing their sound. The band's debut record was followed by two wildly creative collaborations which saw the trio marry their signature ferocity with some unlikely creative bedfellows in order to test new depths. `Emerald', 2021's full-length release, paired SAVER's calculated minimalism with the frenetic, percussive energy of Belgian post-metal collective Psychonaut whilst last year's `Split EP' saw SAVER and Norwegian folk singer/songwriter Frodekal reinterpret a song from each other's back catalogue with hauntingly spectacular results. With this revelatory experience still ringing in their ears, `From Ember And Rust' bears all of SAVER's heavy hallmarks alongside a newfound sense of dynamic anticipation and organic progression, which ties the seven tracks together as a significant body of work in the band's ascendant trajectory. As well as sharing their years of experience making the heaviest music they can, SAVER also share a passion for the unmistakable soundscapes of classic science-fiction. Already a key component of SAVER's distinctive sound; Rokseth's otherworldly, cinematic synth work is given centre stage on `From Ember And Rust' as the band boldly embark on a new journey together. As their first non-collaborative release in four years, `From Ember And Rust' could be interpreted as the band returning to the safety of their roots. However, SAVER are more determined than ever to keep pushing their sound into uncharted territory as the world they find themselves in continues to turn.

Oslo-based sludge-metal power trio SAVER are back with a vengeance. The band's new album `From Ember And Rust' channels the bare-knuckle ferocity of their 2019 full-length debut, `They Came With Sunlight', alongside a formidable command of dynamic, texture and sonic space that belies the relative youth of the project. Having erupted into the Norwegian metal scene without warning, SAVER is the result of heavy veterans Ole Ulvik Rokseth, Markus Stole and Ole Christian Helstad combining their years of experience into one three-headed beast, hellbent on pushing the boundaries of what the band is collectively capable of. Restless by nature, SAVER are constantly refining and reinventing their sound. The band's debut record was followed by two wildly creative collaborations which saw the trio marry their signature ferocity with some unlikely creative bedfellows in order to test new depths. `Emerald', 2021's full-length release, paired SAVER's calculated minimalism with the frenetic, percussive energy of Belgian post-metal collective Psychonaut whilst last year's `Split EP' saw SAVER and Norwegian folk singer/songwriter Frodekal reinterpret a song from each other's back catalogue with hauntingly spectacular results. With this revelatory experience still ringing in their ears, `From Ember And Rust' bears all of SAVER's heavy hallmarks alongside a newfound sense of dynamic anticipation and organic progression, which ties the seven tracks together as a significant body of work in the band's ascendant trajectory. As well as sharing their years of experience making the heaviest music they can, SAVER also share a passion for the unmistakable soundscapes of classic science-fiction. Already a key component of SAVER's distinctive sound; Rokseth's otherworldly, cinematic synth work is given centre stage on `From Ember And Rust' as the band boldly embark on a new journey together. As their first non-collaborative release in four years, `From Ember And Rust' could be interpreted as the band returning to the safety of their roots. However, SAVER are more determined than ever to keep pushing their sound into uncharted territory as the world they find themselves in continues to turn.

Brontez Purnell has been making music since the ‘90s. The Southern-raised, Oakland-based American musician and writer has centered his queerness and Blackness in projects Gravy Train!!! and Younger Lovers as well as in his award-winning books ‘100 Boyfriends’ and ‘Since I Laid My Burden Down’. He is also a dancer, film maker and choreographer.
CRYSTAL CLEAR VINYL.
Hot on the heels of recent 7” singles for Sub Pop, PPM and his first solo electronic record ‘No Jack Swing’ (Dark Entries / Papi Juice), Brontez returns in DIY-punk band formation for a new album entitled ‘Confirmed Bachelor’, out Sept 15th on Upset The Rhythm. These twelve songs presented are of the no-time-wasted variety. Fuzzed-out pop songs, hotly delivered from the heart, often sassy, sometimes sappy, always snappy! Brontez’s band includes the multifaceted talents of Vice Cooler (who also produced and mixed the album), Sean Teves (of Younger Lovers) on drums, Kevin Preston (Prima Donna, Green Day) on guitar, Aaron Minton (Prima Donna) on piano and saxophone, and Laena Myers-Ionita on violin. The album was recorded in Los Angeles at The VCR earlier this year.
‘Bachelors Theme’ opens ‘Confirmed Bachelor’ and sets the scene perfectly with the heady, rush along swoon “That's when I heard the doctor singing to me, "Son; you got all those boys in love, I wish I knew what you were saying to them. Their storming castles are coming for you!” It’s a tour de force of bop and bravado. This is what the album does so well, it sweeps you off your feet first, making its lyrical disclosures all the more affecting.
‘Rude Life’ begins in lilting, measured contemplation. “You're the rudest boy I know, and I've a real rude life” confesses Brontez as the violin laces through his vocal. This is all shook up at the halfway mark though when the adrenaline kicks in and the drums pummel. ‘Sky Opens Up’ similarly dials up the tumbling, careening clamour and energy buzz. ‘Hellish Banger’ is more of slow dance meets grunge reverie. The album also boasts an amazing spiraling auto-tuned cover of The Amps ‘Bragging Party’. ‘No Cigarettes / Stay Monkey’ is pulse-grabbing rally of unadorned declarations split into two fleeting sketches.
‘Hey Boy’ and ‘Boy With Butterfly Wings’ are more reflective in intent, both yearning and unapologetically poetic. In fact the little details observed in the lyrics across the whole album are quietly elegiac; winter nights, electric bills, ticking clocks and many allusions to hauntings only lending pathos to the love-drunk / lovelorn axis of the record. ‘Confirmed Bachelor’ is a hot wonder, upbeat, witty and ever-lively only with a forlorn core, a resolute focus and defiant honesty. It’s a rare triumph, a record you can dance your Friday night away to, whilst the songs’ subtly work on your emotions from the inside out.
of it all. Jagged riffs, bubblegum bounce and Brontez’s vocal effortlessly racing to dizzying effect.

I want to introduce this work ‘Halos of Perception’ to you in the way Lisa introduced me to it, through the sharing of experiences.

Lisa and I met for a walk near South Yarra station to talk about this work, when inclement weather made it too wet to visit the tunnels. Moving almost seamlessly from a world of leisurewear, infinite milk alternatives and blaring neons to stretches of green by the water that brimmed with sounds and life, we saw a few people climbing the Burnley bouldering wall, butterflies suspended in the hot wind and lots of plants I wish I knew the names of. Overhead the cars rumbled like a ceaseless animal as we talked about hidden ecosystems, imagined spaces and networks of care.

Stemming from a serendipitous encounter with an original Cave Clan member that led to many underground adventures, this work explores the worlds that exist outside of our perceptions. By the river, I leafed through a selection of tunnel photos Lisa had printed off at Officeworks, revealing alien textures, tunnels that stretch on into abysses of their own, underground flowing streams. Light is sparse and delicate, something reflected by the flickering and wavering in Lisa’s piano compositions.

As we walked, we noticed the ways in which infrastructure is often designed to keep people out—cut doors into fencing and clipped wires show an active and ongoing defiance of this. We spoke about how her Cave Clan friend used to go down to this painted room and read in solitude, using candles for light. The way sound exists underground, encased in these hollow cement tunnels, a painted room with its own deep hum. How people used to hold underground shows, how there were rules for safety (no exploring after rain, never alone) that was shared with each other. This warmth and absorption of other’s experiences is present in Lisa’s work—it’s immersive, like wading in water.

We paused on the walk to eat berries and talk about how The Caretaker creates transitory worlds with recorded sound, how this technology captures memory, and the exploratory pursuits of Pauline Oliveros’ Deep Listening Band. These citations of memory and deep listening inform Lisa’s use of analogue and classical instruments, playback artefacts and acoustic feedback in her own world-building. When speaking about ‘Halos of Perception’, she describes it as a fascination with timbre and acoustic artefacts.

Ideas of networks and enmeshment are felt deeply in Lisa’s compositions, motifs overlaid over each other evoking the image of many hands interlinking playfully, tenderly, softly. The way her compositions delve into refraction and echo makes me think about the tunnels and the way they splinter off into many possibilities. Manipulated textures reminiscent of the chalky, earthy, moss air that perfumes the tunnels’ subterranean air. Tactile details that gesture towards close attention, verging on obsession.

This work is also about imagining ecosystems of potential. Lisa shared with me that during this project, she has been reimagining subterranean networks in dreams, thinking about oral traditions, and the way water moves—from the sky to the earth, through the ground, connecting all these spheres. Realised in collaboration with hyperreal video artist Tristan Jalleh, Lisa’s dream landscape melds waterfalls, leaks, flower graffiti, and hidden messages lit up by imagined light sources with existing subterranean networks. There’s a real sense of wonder in this world she has built, how the city can reveal itself to you with some patience and care, how the city and its secrets can find its way into your dreams.

— Panda Wong

Originally released as a hand-numbered CD on New Year's Eve of 2004, Last Light captures Tor Lundvall 's hushed songcraft at its most ghostly and grayscale, stripped bare like branches bracing for winter. Initially conceived of as "a piano album with sparse electronics" (with the working title November), Lundvall's palette steadily expanded, incorporating synthesizer, samples, bass, metronomes, and his signature spectral vocals. A journal entry from the spring of 2002 proved formative to his evolving vision: "I remember watching the blueish-grey light shimmering outside and hearing distant sounds echoing far away, eventually sinking into silence and stillness." The album's 12 tracks are steeped in this sense of autumnal transience, of bearing witness to what fades. The music moves in whispered swells, between dirge, drift, and devotional. Synths chime like slow-tolling bells; percussion shuffles and shivers, icy and isolated; bass traces a low-lidded plod - it's a mode both austere and seductive, lulling the listener into its landscapes of deepening dusk. Lyrically, Lundvall's language skews observational and depressive ("through lace curtains / grey light falls / dark clouds gather / in my soul" ), with each song like a gauzy glimpse into a different tableau framing winter's descent: rust - colored leaves, frozen ponds, cold crescent moons. Lundvall has long considered Last Light a "personal favorite" in his discography, and it's easy to hear why. In texture, finesse, and pacing, it vividly evokes the rare mood of fragile, frosty pastoral noir depicted in his iconic oil paintings. His is an art of the half-seen and half-remembered, of fleeting figures, shapes and shadows, and gathering darkness. Of all that disappears, and the ghosts that never leave: "So I wait / as the years / slowly drain the magic and the light / and the girl / I never loved / haunts me through the dark roads of my life."

Daneshevskaya (Dawn-eh-shev-sky-uh), the project of New York's Anna Beckerman, writes songs steeped in the folklore of her own personal history. Her artist (and real middle) name comes from her Russian-Jewish great-grandmother, a person whose presence she has always felt although their paths never crossed in real life. Beckerman grew up in a musical family; her father is a music professor, her mother studied opera and her own songs often feel spiritual, less so by any religious connotation and more as a hymn-like, archival record of Beckerman's own past, present and future. Her first release on Winspear, Long is the Tunnel, contemplates how the people you meet impact the pathway you travel. Through songs like the poignant "Somewhere in the Middle," the lilting "Challenger Deep" and the surreal "Big Bird," the EP paints a distinctive collage between traditional songwriting and modern turns of phrase that remain spellbound in the unadulterated luster of self discovery. The seven songs read as both patchwork memories/diary entries and elegies to those in her life. Co-produced by Ruben Radlauer and Hayden Ticehurst of Model/Actriz and Artur Szerejko, the final versions of these initial demos also saw contributions from Lewis Evans of Black Country, New Road (saxophone), Maddy Leshner (keys) and Finnegan Shanahan (violin), adding to the gleaming instrumentation that makes each song sound like a world within itself. Long is the Tunnel is filled with hyperreal imagery that denotes a form of escapism: two of the songs reference birds, which Beckerman describes as about being transfixed by something you can't take your eyes o‑ while also being able to leave at will. Long is the Tunnel prolongs this feeling of being completely immersed: by desire, emotion, and fantasy, though the somber melancholy of her love songs are often more manifestations to her internal self than anyone else.

Daneshevskaya (Dawn-eh-shev-sky-uh), the project of New York's Anna Beckerman, writes songs steeped in the folklore of her own personal history. Her artist (and real middle) name comes from her Russian-Jewish great-grandmother, a person whose presence she has always felt although their paths never crossed in real life. Beckerman grew up in a musical family; her father is a music professor, her mother studied opera and her own songs often feel spiritual, less so by any religious connotation and more as a hymn-like, archival record of Beckerman's own past, present and future. Her first release on Winspear, Long is the Tunnel, contemplates how the people you meet impact the pathway you travel. Through songs like the poignant "Somewhere in the Middle," the lilting "Challenger Deep" and the surreal "Big Bird," the EP paints a distinctive collage between traditional songwriting and modern turns of phrase that remain spellbound in the unadulterated luster of self discovery. The seven songs read as both patchwork memories/diary entries and elegies to those in her life. Co-produced by Ruben Radlauer and Hayden Ticehurst of Model/Actriz and Artur Szerejko, the final versions of these initial demos also saw contributions from Lewis Evans of Black Country, New Road (saxophone), Maddy Leshner (keys) and Finnegan Shanahan (violin), adding to the gleaming instrumentation that makes each song sound like a world within itself. Long is the Tunnel is filled with hyperreal imagery that denotes a form of escapism: two of the songs reference birds, which Beckerman describes as about being transfixed by something you can't take your eyes o‑ while also being able to leave at will. Long is the Tunnel prolongs this feeling of being completely immersed: by desire, emotion, and fantasy, though the somber melancholy of her love songs are often more manifestations to her internal self than anyone else.

Daneshevskaya (Dawn-eh-shev-sky-uh), the project of New York's Anna Beckerman, writes songs steeped in the folklore of her own personal history. Her artist (and real middle) name comes from her Russian-Jewish great-grandmother, a person whose presence she has always felt although their paths never crossed in real life. Beckerman grew up in a musical family; her father is a music professor, her mother studied opera and her own songs often feel spiritual, less so by any religious connotation and more as a hymn-like, archival record of Beckerman's own past, present and future. Her first release on Winspear, Long is the Tunnel, contemplates how the people you meet impact the pathway you travel. Through songs like the poignant "Somewhere in the Middle," the lilting "Challenger Deep" and the surreal "Big Bird," the EP paints a distinctive collage between traditional songwriting and modern turns of phrase that remain spellbound in the unadulterated luster of self discovery. The seven songs read as both patchwork memories/diary entries and elegies to those in her life. Co-produced by Ruben Radlauer and Hayden Ticehurst of Model/Actriz and Artur Szerejko, the final versions of these initial demos also saw contributions from Lewis Evans of Black Country, New Road (saxophone), Maddy Leshner (keys) and Finnegan Shanahan (violin), adding to the gleaming instrumentation that makes each song sound like a world within itself. Long is the Tunnel is filled with hyperreal imagery that denotes a form of escapism: two of the songs reference birds, which Beckerman describes as about being transfixed by something you can't take your eyes o‑ while also being able to leave at will. Long is the Tunnel prolongs this feeling of being completely immersed: by desire, emotion, and fantasy, though the somber melancholy of her love songs are often more manifestations to her internal self than anyone else.

In the decade or so that hard-working New York quartet Sunwatchers have operated, the group has steadily & subtly refined their sound - a brain-blasting mixture of jazz, psychedelia, krautrock, punk, noise, & Saharan blues - into something that is avant-leaning enough to appeal to the discerning jazz & experimental music fan & weird & wooly enough to get the true heads' toes tapping. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is the band's 5th album, and fourth for Chicago-based Trouble In Mind Records, seeing the long-running lineup of Peter Kerlin (bass guitar), Jim McHugh (guitars), Jason Robira (drums), and Jeff Tobias (alto saxophone and keyboards) in prime form. Album opener "World People" is a classic Sunwatchers number whose title expresses their Anarcho-Internationalist ideology (and the atypically multi-culti make up of their crowds), with an underlying melodic resonance to New Orleans funeral marches à la Albert Ayler _ a triumphant call to arms to all peoples. Live fave "Too Gary"'s gang vocal shout punctuates a motorik rager named for a phrase often uttered by a badass eight year old skateboarder McHugh knew with a speech impediment (it means "that's too scary"). "T.A.S.C." (or "Theme For Anarchist Sports Center") is inspired by Sonny Sharrock's maligned 80's output & sounds exactly like a wrathful, mutant version of a prime-time athletic show theme, replete with the requisite "sitcom ending." The sun- scorched "Foams" - a longform piece intended to depict natural stuff like tides, nightfall, and time slowly passing, ancient, peaceful and slightly gross all at once - practically jumps out of the speakers, its palpable intensity crackling in your eardrums. The title of "Tumulus" might reference an ancient burial mound, but the music itself might be the group's most high-tech song to date, complimented by an arpeggiating sequencer, three different forms of tape delay and an electric saxophone; ecstatic, fiery & deeply spiritual. "There Goes Ol' Ooze" is a smoky creeper that lets Tobias & Kerlin take a walk for a while, with respectful nods to the Stones and Steve Reich. "Song For The Gone" closes out the album, showcasing a sincerely tender moment for the gang, as an expression of love and resolve for dear friends who had recently, tragically died. Its cascading, bluesy melody attuning itself to our own collective unconscious grief. Having the distinct pleasure of being the first band to record in John Dwyer 's new LA-based recording studio Discount Mirrors, "Music Is Victory Over Time" boasts a beefed up sound. The band worked closely with in-house engineer Eric Bauer - facilitator, troubleshooter, sonic obsessive, a legendary freak and a DIY lifer. The band also had full access to the studio's epic armory of gear: amps, axes (it's Dwyer's Eddie Harris model electric sax), synths, a bass guitar once belonging to Klaus Flouride of the Dead Kennedys. Crucial for the sounds and the vibe. The album art was created by Josh MacPhee, the activist artist, author, archivist and founding member of both the radical artist collective Just Seeds and Interference Archive, a public collection of materials from social movements based in Brooklyn. MacPhee's participation in the project works as a statement of Sunwatchers' progressive utopian intentionality, and organically underscores their involvement in revolutionary projects within and without of their hometown. Listening to "Music Is Victory Over Time", Sunwatcher's rebellious spirit & unbridled enthusiasm remain fully intact, but the secret sauce is their infectious irreverence in the face of the horrors of this world. Much of our best cultural commentary is Trojan-horsed to the general public via humor & satire & the band has a knack for lacing the ridiculous with the radical. It's good to have them back. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is released worldwide digitally via most DSPs, on CD, black vinyl & a limited "Sunflare" blue/red splatter vinyl while supplies last.

In the decade or so that hard-working New York quartet Sunwatchers have operated, the group has steadily & subtly refined their sound - a brain-blasting mixture of jazz, psychedelia, krautrock, punk, noise, & Saharan blues - into something that is avant-leaning enough to appeal to the discerning jazz & experimental music fan & weird & wooly enough to get the true heads' toes tapping. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is the band's 5th album, and fourth for Chicago-based Trouble In Mind Records, seeing the long-running lineup of Peter Kerlin (bass guitar), Jim McHugh (guitars), Jason Robira (drums), and Jeff Tobias (alto saxophone and keyboards) in prime form. Album opener "World People" is a classic Sunwatchers number whose title expresses their Anarcho-Internationalist ideology (and the atypically multi-culti make up of their crowds), with an underlying melodic resonance to New Orleans funeral marches à la Albert Ayler _ a triumphant call to arms to all peoples. Live fave "Too Gary"'s gang vocal shout punctuates a motorik rager named for a phrase often uttered by a badass eight year old skateboarder McHugh knew with a speech impediment (it means "that's too scary"). "T.A.S.C." (or "Theme For Anarchist Sports Center") is inspired by Sonny Sharrock's maligned 80's output & sounds exactly like a wrathful, mutant version of a prime-time athletic show theme, replete with the requisite "sitcom ending." The sun- scorched "Foams" - a longform piece intended to depict natural stuff like tides, nightfall, and time slowly passing, ancient, peaceful and slightly gross all at once - practically jumps out of the speakers, its palpable intensity crackling in your eardrums. The title of "Tumulus" might reference an ancient burial mound, but the music itself might be the group's most high-tech song to date, complimented by an arpeggiating sequencer, three different forms of tape delay and an electric saxophone; ecstatic, fiery & deeply spiritual. "There Goes Ol' Ooze" is a smoky creeper that lets Tobias & Kerlin take a walk for a while, with respectful nods to the Stones and Steve Reich. "Song For The Gone" closes out the album, showcasing a sincerely tender moment for the gang, as an expression of love and resolve for dear friends who had recently, tragically died. Its cascading, bluesy melody attuning itself to our own collective unconscious grief. Having the distinct pleasure of being the first band to record in John Dwyer 's new LA-based recording studio Discount Mirrors, "Music Is Victory Over Time" boasts a beefed up sound. The band worked closely with in-house engineer Eric Bauer - facilitator, troubleshooter, sonic obsessive, a legendary freak and a DIY lifer. The band also had full access to the studio's epic armory of gear: amps, axes (it's Dwyer's Eddie Harris model electric sax), synths, a bass guitar once belonging to Klaus Flouride of the Dead Kennedys. Crucial for the sounds and the vibe. The album art was created by Josh MacPhee, the activist artist, author, archivist and founding member of both the radical artist collective Just Seeds and Interference Archive, a public collection of materials from social movements based in Brooklyn. MacPhee's participation in the project works as a statement of Sunwatchers' progressive utopian intentionality, and organically underscores their involvement in revolutionary projects within and without of their hometown. Listening to "Music Is Victory Over Time", Sunwatcher's rebellious spirit & unbridled enthusiasm remain fully intact, but the secret sauce is their infectious irreverence in the face of the horrors of this world. Much of our best cultural commentary is Trojan-horsed to the general public via humor & satire & the band has a knack for lacing the ridiculous with the radical. It's good to have them back. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is released worldwide digitally via most DSPs, on CD, black vinyl & a limited "Sunflare" blue/red splatter vinyl while supplies last.

High Roller Records, reissue 2023, 10th anniversary edition, 180g black vinyl, ltd 300, insert

High Roller Records, reissue 2023, 10th anniversary edition, brown vinyl, insert