Razorbats unleash their fifth studio album, "Anthems of a Lost Century" - a sonic blast that throws you straight into the golden age of rock, while pushing the genre forward with power and attitude. This is not just another record - it's a statement. Recorded at Velvet Recordings in Spydeberg with producer Eiliv Sagrusten, and released by the renowned label Voices of Wonder, "Anthems of a Lost Century" is a tribute to the era 1974-1994 - packed with massive production, unforgettable hooks, and a sound that demands attention.
DELUXE SLEEVE WITH LEATHER LAMINATE FINISH
• INCLUDES 4-PAGE BOOKLET
• SOUNDTRACK TO THE NEWEST SEASON OF NETFLIX’S HIT SERIES, THE WITCHER
• FEATURING THE NEW SONG “SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT” BY HALF MOON RUN
• LIMITED EDITION ON ORANGE AND BLACK MARBLED VINYL
Le Corbeau, the brainchild of Oystein Sandsdalen (Serena Maneesh), has become a formidable collective. here with a trilogy of albums spanning eight years. Why such a productive group choses to release twenty-seven songs simultaneously may be a greater reflection on the myopic nature of record labels -The mystic deities of noir have returned. "The band"s sound bows to the vestiges of V.U., Sonic Youth, and Lynchian glamour- but each of the three albums show ambition to go beyond, by player freedom and improv, exploring textural layers, and nuancing each groove. Many songs remind us what we loved in 2009`s Evening Chill / Montreal of the Mind - surrealistic, seductive, draped in velvet. Some circle to the familiar with punk fuzz and playful themes, like "1000 eyed behemoth": about leaving Oslo"s night life behind. Other times, they are creators of their own classics. Opening track to VI: Sun Creeps Up the Wall, "Blossom with an Evil Light" recorded between 2017-2018, illuminates a a new path of change. The long anticipation is over- come enter the murky and magical waters of Le Corbeau." -Ann Sung-an Lee
Eisenmund, the debut by Berlin-based Schimmel über Berlin is a thing of pounding, brittle beauty that seeks to continue on from where angst-ridden, early-eighties Berlin left off. Angular, monophonic synths, guitars that slice through with wiry yet melodic urgency, basslines that pulse with a taut, driven precision and drums that meld everything together. Liv Billerbeck’s vocals come from the middle distance, drifting between detached and desperate, as if transmitted through a wintery cityscape.
Title track Eisenmund jangles with reedy synths floating over a carpet of bass and mournful vocals dripping with a sense of loss. This mood spills over into the other tracks, like post-punk jewel Schreck with its iridescently lovely guitars.
Eisenmund is sharp, atmospheric, and quietly thrilling - proof that the shadows of the eighties can still dance under today's flickering lights. The album, immaculately produced by T-Rex, captures that classic post-punk mood of urban decay, late-night introspection and stubborn sense of motion, which for someone like me, who was there back in the day, seems utterly familiar without ever sinking into mere nostalgia.
Fiona Sangster (Xmal Deutschland)
Die Band Schimmel über Berlin ist eines der vielen Klanggesichter der Liv Billerbeck, ein Gesicht, das man niemals sieht, das im Verborgenen sich umblickt und agiert und das trotzdem aber in einer seltenen Klarheit erscheint. Man sieht es beim Hören, schemenhaft. Ihr Schaffen ist befallen vom West-Berlin der 1980er Jahre (Xmal Deutschland, Malaria etc.).
Eine Rolle, gerade in der musikalischen Brillanz und Produktionsraffinesse, spielt britischer Post-Punk, der sich sehr klar auch im treibenden Spiel von T-Rex (Bass + Produktion), Việt Phương Vũ (Gitarre) und Christian Ramisch (Schlagzeug – mit Phương übrigens bei der ebenfalls sehr guten Band NOJ) zeigt: The Sound, Killing Joke et. al.!
Es handelt sich bei dieser Musik um einen Sound mit retroesquem Anstrich, der spürbar eine vergangene Luft atmet, einer Nostalgie an eine ferne Zeit anheimfällt, die das Quartett ob ihres Alters nicht erlebt haben kann, und die vielmehr eine Sehnsucht bedeutet, in der Unerfüllbarkeit eine Melancholie mitbringt, eine Art treibende Traurigkeit spürbar macht. Das allein ist groß! Was weitergehend daran aber so interessant, besonders und wahnsinnig schön ist: Das klingt in Billerbecks Schaffen – und insbesondere hier, beim Schimmel über Berlin – nicht wie eine Kopie, ein Abklatsch, eine Reminiszenz oder das, was in der so called NNDW bald flächendeckend geschieht: das Anzapfen einer überholten Coolness. Denn etwas ist ganz gegenwärtig daran, in der Eigenständigkeit, macht einem eindringlich das Hier und Jetzt spürbar, auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen: Traurigkeit, ja, aber auch Bock, bis in die Morgenstunden auszugehen, schnellen Schrittes über rutschiges Kopfsteinpflaster zu traben. Musik dann wieder zum Verkrümeln in zugigen Altbauten, von Schreien über einen nebelbedeckten See im Umland Berlins.
Und eben kein Eskapismus, auch wenn die Musik zur Flucht taugte. Merkwürdig ist, dass in dieser Retroschleife dann etwas Märchenhaftes mitschwingt. Vielleicht liegt es auch in der authentischen 1980er-Jahre Produktion, in der immer wieder so ein Klimpern, ein Schellen durchkommt. Es mag aber auch an den Texten liegen, die etwas von Minnesang haben und in ihrer Klarheit, die aus der Kühle und den Kargheiten (der Vergangenheit, der Gegenwart, der Zukunft) entsteht, doch Wärme transportieren.
Wir hören darin heute, trotz all dem Bewusstsein für die Vergangenheit, den Sound einer seltenen Dichterin der Gegenwart. Das ist von einer Intensität, die einen bald absorbiert. Eisenmund etwa, das Titelstück, ist so ein Song, bei dem man sich hinsetzen oder gleich hinlegen muss. Da sind Dinge, die man nicht ändern kann. Wie geht das? Also: nach vorne, heftig, und dann aber so weich und traurig. Hätten Schimmel über Berlin die 1980er-Jahre dieser Stadt beschallt, sie wären hiermit, das mögen sie selbst vielleicht gar nicht hören, die Helden dieser Zeit gewesen. Eisenmund ist das tollste Album, das mir seit Jahren begegnet ist – und die bisherige Klimax dessen, was aus der Allee der Kosmonauten hervorgeht.
Und wenn man das alles so hört, aufmerksam hört, wird einem, obwohl das alles so ein einziger, riesiger Hit ist, völlig klar: Hier geht es nicht darum, irgendwo damit zu landen, irgendwo mitzumischen, erfolgreich zu sein oder in aller Munde. Hier geht es darum, einfach nur genau das zu machen, was es ist! Alles andere ist egal.
Moving freely through time and space via experimental DIY recordings since 2009, Joasihno return with their fourth album "Spots".
“Find your spot in the shade,” a truly laid-back and incredibly soft-spoken MC once advised, yet in a world that seems to get shadier every day, it’s probably time to finally get out and face the sun. Southern German experimental pop duo Joasihno – initial solo founder Cico Beck (The Notwist, Aloa Input, Spirit Fest) and drummer/composer Nico Sierig (Instrument, Fehler Kuti) – seem to know exactly when it’s time to shine. Idiosyncratic genre tweakers since day one, they have been operating at their own pace, mostly staying in their own shady corner. Yet, almost a decade after their most recent “Meshes” (an album that came with a whole legion of tiny music robots), it’s high time for them to take over more corners, to reclaim even more spots between lo-fi and sci-fi, retro electronica and contemporary classic. Drawing upon influences as varied as Reich, Riley, and Ryuichi, múm, Meek, and Moondog, while also nodding to other experimental twosomes (e.g. The Books), the duo’s fourth full-length “Spots” is set to arrive via Alien Transistor in late 2025.
Leaving soulless automation and all things artificial to others, Joasihno launch the latest record on “2 Squares” that feel like a peaceful, almost bucolic version of retro space age: lights blink ever so softly as easy-going bass tones point at today’s introspective flight arc. Electronic shapes align and things lift off – with a majestic 8-bit sunrise soon appearing right in front of us. Whereas playful title song “Spots” is a miniature Rube Goldberg kind of device, with quirky plucked strings and glitches setting off more and more contraption layers, “Crackleboom” is uncharted energy, an open landscape, an expanding bonfire that leads to a long-forgotten piano, all dust-covered in some kind of saloon. Space might be only noise to others, here, it’s foreboding screeches (“Dizzle Whistle”) that make room for A-side center piece “Forest Lights”: a steady beat that lures us to a clearance in the woods. Things break and shatter in the distance, but this spot right here is for hypnosis, dancing, sylvan spirits. And yeah, it’s surprisingly hot down here in the undergrowth…
Opening side B with a fun banger that takes the unhinged dancing to the playground – “Characa Orb.” feels like French kids on swings going crazy, a tipsy, tongue-in-cheek electro blow-out between Oizo and Orbis Tertius –, things get even more cinematic throughout the second half. Even the cheapest, lo-fiest gear is sufficient to make “The Slow Hour” glow like true, timeless pop royalty. In fact, the very same pop spirits roam and celebrate freely in the chirpy coves of mesmerizing “Detune Lagoon” – more hand-crafted sci-fi/lo-fi loops you’ll only find after facing the ghosts of Lynch or Sakamoto on those night-time trails under the “Deep Moon”. It’s all DIY spots, spots that leave room to dream or dangle, drape yourself over or dive into. Returning to the leafy bower on a melancholy post rock tip, we eventually learn that “Death Is Real” – and so we’re left with a laterna magica that turns and turns and turns. It’s a beautiful spot where light and shadows keep on dancing, just like they’ve always done, ever since the dawn of this madcap universe.
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Black Metal. Richly melodious and unsparingly vicious. Extreme Metal heavy on melodic black metal but also shines of death and thrash throughout. Brainchild of Phil “LandPhil” Hall of Municipal Waste (also Cannabis Corpse, Iron Reagan) who writes the music and plays bass/guitar in the studio (and bass live) alongside a power house of sick underground metal musicians including Vreth of Finntroll (Finland) on vocals. Not a studio project, Morbikon spent 6 weeks on the road promoting their debut album “Ov Mournful Twilight” (2022) along side internationally notable extreme metal acts Exhumed and Skeletal Remains. Morbikon also crushed performances at The Decibel Magazine Beer and Metal Fest (in both Philadelphia and Denver) and the Milwaukee Metal Fest.
God Given Ass is a five piece punk rock band from Helsinki, Finland, formed in 2008. The band members’ former outfits include 90’s Finnish rock band Tehosekoitin (a.k.a. The Screamin’ Stukas), legendary drunk punks Maho Neitsyt and horror-garage-punksters The Patsy Walkers. As connoisseurs will have noticed, the band name derives from a line in a certain David Bowie song, and true to that, their influences range wide – from classic punk rock sneer to 60’s-influenced melodies to glitter stomp and back. Despite God Given Ass having been around for some time, this eponymous record is their debut album. Having released four 7-inchers early in their career (and two cassettes to boot), they went on a hiatus a couple of years back, only returning to the touring cycle in 2024. Despite the near glacial release pace, the album itself is not slow: it’s a 28 minute and 12 track ride through the at times fun & at others dreary landscapes of eastern downtown Helsinki by night.
Hailing from the northern city of Oulu and featuring members of esteemed Finnish outfits such as Haapoja, Dart, and Renate/Cordate, TRYPANON have steadily emerged as one of the most compelling and unorthodox underground acts in recent memory. Their 2021 debut "Amentia" earned widespread acclaim for its suffocating intensity and bleak atmospheres, establishing the band as a vital force in the realms of extreme music. With "Through the Portal of Flesh to Achieve Divinity", TRYPANON push their vision even further into the void. The album is a nightmarish fusion of down-tuned sludge, chaotic death metal, and dissonant black metal, woven together with progressive flourishes and hypnotic melodic fragments. The result is a deeply immersive and punishing listening experience that recalls the extremity of bands like Lord Mantis, Coffinworm and Cobalt, while retaining a sonic and conceptual identity entirely its own. Where "Amentia" was a descent into psychological collapse, "Through the Portal..." drags the listener through a ritualistic transformation - an existential death trip that explores themes of corporeal transcendence, spiritual ruin and ecstatic suffering. The record was conceived not only as an artistic evolution, but as an act of purification through sound: hostile, enveloping and uncompromising. This release marks a significant step forward for TRYPANON, both in scope and execution. Expect a record steeped in raw emotion and relentless aggression, but also rich in nuance and disturbing beauty.
"Hidden City" (2016) is The Cult"s tenth studio album - produced by Bob Rock and written by Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy. It"s the final part of a trilogy that witnessed the rebirth of the band, beginning with "Born Into This" (2007), which evolved into "Choice of Weapon" (2012), and arrived fully formed, kicking and screaming with the seductive "Hidden City". The sonic assault of "Dark Energy" is the perfect intro to this album. Peel away the layers of this 12-track master class in space and time, and you will discover a band in their absolute prime. Which comes as no surprise, as the Cult have existed in the shadows and wild spaces since their inception. Remastered for vinyl by Justin Shturtz at Sterling Sound, and cut by John Webber at Air Studios.
"Hidden City" (2016) is The Cult"s tenth studio album - produced by Bob Rock and written by Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy. It"s the final part of a trilogy that witnessed the rebirth of the band, beginning with "Born Into This" (2007), which evolved into "Choice of Weapon" (2012), and arrived fully formed, kicking and screaming with the seductive "Hidden City". The sonic assault of "Dark Energy" is the perfect intro to this album. Peel away the layers of this 12-track master class in space and time, and you will discover a band in their absolute prime. Which comes as no surprise, as the Cult have existed in the shadows and wild spaces since their inception. Remastered for vinyl by Justin Shturtz at Sterling Sound, and cut by John Webber at Air Studios.
"“The strongest Cult songs in years.” ★★★★ --The Guardian
Remastered for vinyl by Justin Shturtz at Sterling Sound, and cut by John Webber at Air Studios. Pressed on Limited Edition Coloured vinyl: LP1 red, LP2 white vinyl.
Hidden City is The Cult’s tenth studio album - produced by Bob Rock and written by Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy. It’s the final part of a trilogy that witnessed the rebirth of the band, beginning with ‘Born Into This’ (2007), which evolved into ‘Choice of Weapon’ (2012), and arrived fully formed, kicking and screaming with the seductive ‘Hidden City’
The sonic assault of ‘Dark Energy’ is the perfect intro to this album. Peel away the layers of this 12 track master class in space and time, and you will discover a band in their absolute prime. Which comes as no surprise, as the Cult have existed in the shadows and wild spaces since their inception."
"“The strongest Cult songs in years.” ★★★★ --The Guardian
Remastered for vinyl by Justin Shturtz at Sterling Sound, and cut by John Webber at Air Studios. Cut at 45 RPM for a superior sound. Pressed on black audiophile vinyl at Optimal, Europe’s premium pressing plant. This CV 45 Edition comes with an individually numbered obi strip.
Hidden City is The Cult’s tenth studio album - produced by Bob Rock and written by Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy. It’s the final part of a trilogy that witnessed the rebirth of the band, beginning with ‘Born Into This’ (2007), which evolved into ‘Choice of Weapon’ (2012), and arrived fully formed, kicking and screaming with the seductive ‘Hidden City’
The sonic assault of ‘Dark Energy’ is the perfect intro to this album. Peel away the layers of this 12 track master class in space and time, and you will discover a band in their absolute prime. Which comes as no surprise, as the Cult have existed in the shadows and wild spaces since their inception."
After bending boundaries on the acclaimed labels Optimo Music and Höga Nord, Rudolf Abramov resurfaces with a fierce new statement – inaugurating Aquasonic Records, the freshly minted label founded by one half of the duo.
They unveil a sweeping collection of rare recordings, drawn from the shadows of their enigmatic Berlin studio.
This debut full-length album unfolds like a sonic tapestry, threading krautrock, new wave, dub, psychedelia, experimental electronics, ambient, and jazz into a singular, genre-bending experience.
True to form, the duo assembles a diverse ensemble of guest collaborators, fusing layered musical worlds into a cohesive, concept-driven whole.
At its core, the album captures a dynamic interplay: acoustic instruments recorded with raw intimacy and spatial breath meet the hypnotic churn of modular synths, samplers, and analog machines. A vivid document of process, presence, and unfiltered sound, resisting definition, yet wholly their own.
Das selbstbetitelte vierte Album von Purity Ring markiert den Beginn eines mutigen neuen Kapitels als das bisher eindringlichste Werk der Band. Lange bekannt für ihre Verschmelzung von Body-Horror-Bildern und ätherischer Elektronik, verlagert das Duo nun seinen Fokus vom Physischen zum Fantastischen und kreiert ein Konzeptalbum, das als Soundtrack zu einem imaginären RPG dient. Inspiriert von Spielen wie Nier Automata und Final Fantasy X, erzählt das Album die Geschichte zweier unglücklicher Charaktere - Verkörperungen von mj und Corin - auf einer Reise, um inmitten der Ruinen einer zerbrochenen Welt eine freundlichere Welt aufzubauen. Aber dies ist keine eskapistische Fantasie: Es ist der erste Schritt zu verbotenen Träumen, zur Vorstellung eines Ortes, an dem die Schwachen beachtet werden, an dem Trauer laut ausgesprochen und gemeinsam getragen wird, an dem Familie eher ein Verb als ein Substantiv ist, an dem Hoffnung und Heimat gemeinsam aufblühen können.
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Some 12 months on from Bait dropping Nantes-based Soa420's debut EP, No Nerve, the label is back with an exclusive vinyl-only VIP version of the title track. But first comes the original, which is still a devastating cut with a booming low end and eerie sense of open space and late-night shadows that keep you looking over your shoulder. This rework transforms the original's moody ambience and icy textures with jostling, fuller drums and tech-edge grit for more direct results in the club. Also included is 'Basement 31 (feat Stacktrace)' with a dark, immersive energy, creepy low-end wobbles and a serene sense of futurism.
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"Astral Americana hymns hovering somewhere between the dirt and the stars" Pitchfork
"Mood music for moments of solitude, best experienced without distraction" The Times
"Overwhelmingly effective and ravishingly beautiful" The Wire
American Dust is an ode to the beauty of the American Southwest, where vast desert landscapes hold stories both stark and tender. Eve Adams’ characteristic folk noir weaves a vivid tapestry of love, sacrifice and quiet revelation, conjuring images of dust storms, stray dogs and far off trains.
The high desert of California is a vast and confounding place. Equally inspiring as it is punishing, it’s a landscape that carries magic in its deep dark nights, holding stories both tender and stark in the coarse layer of dust that settles upon everything. It’s long been a source of inspiration for musicians, writers, and painters, each of them adding to the same current, carried forward over time, through hope and hardship and the passing years.
Somewhere out there in that broad and boundless landscape, Eve Adams has been living her own desert life, quietly writing the follow-up to 2021’s Metal Bird LP. Where that album sang of liminal space, the dream-like turbulence of Hollywood’s golden age, American Dust is far more rooted in traditional storytelling; a eulogy for the American Dream channeled through that sweeping part of the country that holds such power and mystery. Slipping into different and varied costumes throughout its ten songs, it finds Eve not just observing the people around her but stepping into their shoes and peeling back the layers of their quiet lives.
Adams writes from within. A few years ago she moved out there, to “the middle of nowhere”, finding a slowness that didn’t exist in the city, and she knows only too well about the mystical nature of the land and those who live within it. Weaving together themes of grit and romance, American Dust holds its focus on the bittersweet poetry of lives lived in solitude, most notably the women who sustain life at the center of it all. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” Adams says of this thread. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”
Eve is joined on American Dust by Canadian musician Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius of Crack Cloud, who plays throughout and also helped produce the album. Musically bold and vivid, it’s an ambitious and detailed stride forward from what’s come before, the scope of the LP’s narrative reflected in the radiant sweep of the playing. On top of gentle piano and guitar, gorgeous strings drift through the album, lending the songs a woozy sense of romanticism; a collaboration with Gamaliel Traynor (Cello) and Caroline’s Oliver Hamilton (Violin).
For all the drama that’s coiled around these songs, it’s the recurring notion of love and hope fighting against everything that holds true throughout American Dust. Musically it’s lush and vibrant, intimate and cinematic side by side, and always bursting with warmth. But it’s what it holds in its weary bones that elevates it to something truly special, something more than just a collection of songs penned in the heart of the desert. The characters it speaks of, and from, feel shadowed but wholly real, like they’re bursting to share their stories that have remained hidden for years and years and they allow Eve Adams to grow as a songwriter right in front of our eyes.
“The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone,” Eve says, reflecting on the personal narrative that runs through her new album.
“It’s not just dust—it’s American Dust, the kind that settles into the bones of a family and never leaves. I think about that dust as a symbol of the passage of time. I hope this album will be part of that same current, carrying forward for the next generations of my family to find. I’ve been lucky enough to have journals and poetry from my ancestors that documents their lives during times of pure hope and pure hardship. I’d like to think of this album as a contribution to that family history.”
