Search:shame

Bobby Hutcherson’s 1968 album Total Eclipse was the vibraphonist’s first recording to feature saxophonist Harold Land who would become a key collaborator for years to come. Rounding out the band were pianist Chick Corea, bassist Reggie Johnson, and drummer Joe Chambers on this impassioned post-bop set. This stereo Tone Poet Vinyl Edition was produced by Joe Harley, mastered by Kevin Gray from the original analog master tapes, pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI, and packaged in a deluxe gatefold tip-on jacket.

Packaging: 2LP | printed inner sleeve / liner notes

Die Symphonic-Heavy-Metal-Band Evolucija präsentiert ihr lang erwartetes Album „The World is Full of Wrath“. Produziert von Metal-Veteran Marko „Wolfy“ Vuckovic, gemischt und gemastert im Fascination Street Studios in Schweden von Linus Corneliusson und Jens Bogren, verspricht das Album mit kraftvollen Riffs und mitreißenden Melodien ein symphonisches Heavy-Metal-Erlebnis. Im Osten Europas gehören die Fünf zu den großen Bands und teilten die Bühnen mit den größten Namen der Metal-Szene wie Paradise Lost, Doro Pesch, Children Of Bodom, Tyr und Pestilence.

Das vierte Album Forgiveness Is Yours der Fat White Family um die Brüder Lias und Nathan Saoudi ist ein eklektisches, chaotisches und doch immer kohärentes Album, das keine Gefangenen macht.

Fat White Family sind zurück. Das lang erwartete vierte Album der Kultband aus dem Süden Londons, Forgiveness Is Yours, hat sie, wie alles, was sie bisher gemacht haben, noch mehr an die Grenzen ihres kreativen Talents, hrer Gesundheit, ihres Verstandes und ihrer eigenen Existenz gebracht. Die äußeren Feinde haben sich aufgelöst - vielleicht waren sie die ganze Zeit nur Halluzinationen. Nach der Veröffentlichung von "Serfs Up!" zementierten Fat White Family ihren Ruf als archetypische britische Post-Punk-Band des 21. Jahrhunderts - und brachten eine ganze Generation von Außenseiter-Punkrock-Gruppen hervor, von Shame und Black Country über New Road bis hin zu Black Midi und Fontaines DC, ganz zu schweigen von ihrer berüchtigten Live-Show, die es irgendwie schafft, Empörung und Chaos mit Gelassenheit und Schönheit zu verbinden. Das vierte Album Forgiveness Is Yours der Fat White Family um die Brüder Lias und Nathan Saoudi ist ein eklektisches, chaotisches und doch immer kohärentes Album, das keine Gefangenen macht.

Das vierte Album Forgiveness Is Yours der Fat White Family um die Brüder Lias und Nathan Saoudi ist ein eklektisches, chaotisches und doch immer kohärentes Album, das keine Gefangenen macht.

Fat White Family sind zurück. Das lang erwartete vierte Album der Kultband aus dem Süden Londons, Forgiveness Is Yours, hat sie, wie alles, was sie bisher gemacht haben, noch mehr an die Grenzen ihres kreativen Talents, hrer Gesundheit, ihres Verstandes und ihrer eigenen Existenz gebracht. Die äußeren Feinde haben sich aufgelöst - vielleicht waren sie die ganze Zeit nur Halluzinationen. Nach der Veröffentlichung von "Serfs Up!" zementierten Fat White Family ihren Ruf als archetypische britische Post-Punk-Band des 21. Jahrhunderts - und brachten eine ganze Generation von Außenseiter-Punkrock-Gruppen hervor, von Shame und Black Country über New Road bis hin zu Black Midi und Fontaines DC, ganz zu schweigen von ihrer berüchtigten Live-Show, die es irgendwie schafft, Empörung und Chaos mit Gelassenheit und Schönheit zu verbinden. Das vierte Album Forgiveness Is Yours der Fat White Family um die Brüder Lias und Nathan Saoudi ist ein eklektisches, chaotisches und doch immer kohärentes Album, das keine Gefangenen macht.

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

Red Vinyl

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

The fourth full-length record from Atlanta’s Microwave is a trip. It all begins with the misty synth strikes and cosmic transmission warbles of “Portals,” before hazy, dripping-wet guitar chords settle in. The song, an adaptation of the traditional Christian hymn “Softly and Tenderly,” is true to its new name, as liminal and fleeting as it is gripping and emotional. It’s an enormous, gentle, enveloping introduction to what will be explored: life and death, happiness and freedom, the real and unreal. This is Let’s Start Degeneracy, the long-awaited new album from Microwave, releasing on April 26 via Pure Noise. It's an emo record, but perhaps only categorically speaking. It contains multitudes: ambient, pop, R&B, punk, and experimental sounds float in and out of one another as the record moves through scenes, experiences, and feelings, all of them rippling with a purity of intention and translation that mark the best artistic works of “psychedelia.” Vocalist/guitarist/producer Nathan Hardy, bassist Tyler Hill, and drummer Timothy Pittard have created something that resembles a concept record, but it’s the sort of concept that’s impossible to contain in just one phrase or word or sound. The record’s title, taken from a conservative politician’s take on drugs in 1970, captures this liberated spirit. There are no rules, and there is nothing to be ashamed of. “It’s about letting go of attachments and behaviors that aren’t serving you, and trying to shake off your programming and not be motivated by fear and guilt and shame,” says Hardy.

Bobby Hutcherson’s 1968 album Total Eclipse was the vibraphonist’s first recording to feature saxophonist Harold Land who would become a key collaborator for years to come. Rounding out the band were pianist Chick Corea, bassist Reggie Johnson, and drummer Joe Chambers on this impassioned post-bop set. This stereo Tone Poet Vinyl Edition was produced by Joe Harley, mastered by Kevin Gray from the original analog master tapes, pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI, and packaged in a deluxe gatefold tip-on jacket.

Mancunians Aerial Salad describe their cross-genre sound as “Madchester Punk,” a nod to their heroes in Happy Mondays, XTC, and Carter USM, spiced with the current furore spearheaded by burgeoning Brit-wave bands like Yard Act, Shame, and High Vis. Their second album ‘R.O.I’ leans on these influences, driven forward by pure rock’n’roll swagger while conjuring a late stage, capitalist hell scape through brutalist lyrical narratives. To put it mildly, Aerial Salad is the band you want to see play the breakdown of establishment’s after party, and you already know you’re gonna love it! This is an album that moves seamlessly from pulsing post-punk beats to unstoppable stadium rock anthems. ‘The Same 24 Hours (As Beyoncé)’ is Britpop rallying against the fake facade of influencer culture, ‘All Yer Dreamin’ is Mark E Smith at the Hacienda, ‘Chances’ is Oasis taking on Talking Heads. Aerial Salad find space to explore new genres without losing the sense that this is a band born out of the hard touring, DIY punk scene, a community that continues to be close to their heart. The northern three piece want us to know they’re as authentic as it gets. Injecting that raw chaos and violent charm from the stage straight into their recordings. Their goal is to make themselves known to everyone and anyone, from rave heads to indie kids, poets to rockers. ‘R.O.I’ is fantastical while acutely bedded in modern post-Brexit, Un-united Kingdom canon. We’re all trying to find our places in this new world, let Aerial Salad be the soundtrack.

Aignish On The Machair
Neither Here Nor There
Blood Time
Future Musings
Keeping My Head Down
The Chalk
Cyren
You Put Me To Shame
Kibbo Kift
The Wind Picked Up
Having Been There

At just 21 years old Peter Frampton had already played with The Herd and co-formed and left Humble Pie. So he struck out on his own with the appropriately named, “Wind of Change.” Freed from Humble Pie’s narrower focus on hard-rock boogie, Frampton’s debut solo album reveals an artist exploring more dimensional, delicate and nuanced songwriting and guitar playing … Frampton showed his own brand of rocking hard with tunes like “It’s a Plain Shame,” “All I Wanna Be (is by your side)” and even made a Stones song his own with “Jumping Jack Flash,” which became a staple of Frampton’s live shows. But these tunes and even the hook-laden “The Lodger” are balanced with intricate, beautiful tunes like the elegiac “Fig Tree Bay” and the title track “Wind of Change.”

Gimp Fist im Doppelpack! Die Alben "ISOLATION" und "UNIFICATION"! Jeweils 15 Songs auf jedem Album und wie nicht anders zu erwarten, liefert die North-East Oi! Division wie gewohnt Songs der Extraklasse ab! Den klassischen UK Skinhead & Punk Sound mit abwechslungsreichen Mischung aus straight forward Punkrock-Hymnen, druckvollen Singalongs und mitreißenden Oi!-Shoutern beherrschen die drei Engländer bis zur Perfektion! Abgerundet durch das ausgeklügelte Songwriting und treffsichere Lyrics von Sänger Jonny Robson hat sich die Band seit 2005 weltweit eine riesige Fangemeinde erspielt. Nicht umsonst sind Gimp Fist auf dem Rebellion-Festival in Blackpool jedes Jahr einer der Headliner und von Craig Charles in seiner BBC Radio 6-Sendung fast in den Punk-Adel erhoben worden. Limitiertes blaues Vinyl mit weißen Spritzern!

Dancefloor fire bombs from Kolt, a DJ and producer thus far mostly operating under the crew name Blacksea Não Maya (with Perigoso and Noronha). This is his first Retirement record. No quotation marks here, Kolt is actually stepping down from a fruitful decade-long career as DJ and producer.

Fat, techno-ish, idiosyncratic big room afro mind melt sounding like no other hyped or non-hyped dance cuts out there. Futuristic and decidedly non-European in structure, this set of 4 tracks carries a more synthetic DNA than previous material, if we exclude his quasi-gothic slow burners in BNM's "Máquina de Vénus" LP. But in "Verdadeiro" Kolt is all virtual open arms and bare chest, appearing to satirize this idea of the megastar DJ. But what comes across is distinctive and alive (consequently deadly on the club sound system), wiping out the floor of any zombie-preset-DJ vibes.

Take "Bateste" as an example: an evil bassline, wtf beeps, a vocal snippet prodding the dancers and a final blissful 30 seconds to ease you out. "Shaman" is the final track, its title just maybe nailing the atmosphere felt by people on the dancefloor. Shamelessly epic and in your face, a simulation of a throwback to a more clichéd clubland but just so left of centre that one can't find a complete correlation to fit the picture. Yes, we all go OMG.

The fresh-faced folk pop band Stornoway seem promising: They play with guileless vigor, have a light-stepping chemistry as a unit, harmonize well. Their lead singer Brian Briggs has a lovely, pure high tenor, the kind of voice that effortlessly conveys simple longing. And yet, on their second album, Tales from Terra Firma, they continue to be almost crushingly dull, making well-appointed and cheerfully empty music that successfully communicates next to nothing.

Their Achilles Heel is a simple and unfortunate one, the same on Tales as it was on 2010's Beachcombers Windowsill. Stornoway are clearly in love with Celtic and British folk, and yet they can't write a memorable melody to save their lives. Try to sing along to the verse melody of "Zorbing", their most well-known tune, and pay attention to what your face muscles are doing; most likely furrowing with the effort of recall. Each of Tales' painstakingly arranged nine songs sinks underneath the weight of this insurmountable problem, which is a shame.

If you're making folk-pop, an inability to write a catchy melody is a difficult deficiency to overcome. Stornoway try valiantly with their complex arrangements, which quickly grow exhausting. “You Take Me as I Am” is cluttered with horn charts and pointlessly banging piano. “(A Belated) Invite to Eternity” builds to a full Explosions in the Sky crescendo, with glimmering tremolo guitar and a “Tonight, Tonight”-style sweeping string section, but having built zero momentum and generated zero heat until that point, their planned fireworks display fizzles.

“Farewell Appalachia” follows the same pattern, with celesta, finger-picked acoustic and electric guitar all tracing an emptily pretty circle with nothing in the center. The melody of "The Great Procrastinator" is almost cleanly written enough to be memorable-- and then the ersatz Dixieland jazz interlude crashes in. Stornoway are deft players, and the transitions are tightly managed, but this is praise on the same order as praising the brushwork in a hotel-room painting.

Briggs’ lyrics are filled with uncomplicated images of the good old British countryside, but his lyrics trample over all these dew-covered fields with wordy, awkward phrasing: "And in the gathering dew, I was lucid as a floodlight,” goes a line from “(A Belated) Invitation to Eternity”. “There's a hunger in the air/ A lemon swollen in the trees" he bleats on “Knock Me on the Head”. On “The Great Procrastinator”, he sings that he is “a scientist with far too many metaphors and far too little data to conclude in time.” They don’t read particularly well, and they don’t sound much more natural when sung.

Tales From Terra Firma is a peculiar record-- carefree music that feels leaden; tuneful-sounding songs that offer no tunes to hold onto. They seem an odd fit for 4AD, a label mostly home to singular voices. They may be a mercenary signing, an attempt to ride the coattails of Mumford and Sons' success. But Mumford and Sons, as head-smack simple and pandering as they are, have a pretty crucial ingredient in their arsenal: they write anthems. In that regard, they have Stornoway pretty thoroughly beat.

Reissued for the first time on vinyl is ‘Taking All The Love I Can’ by Newark, New Jersey outfit The Chosen Few.

Initially released on Maple Records in 1971, their debut album boasts incredibly moody ‘Northern Soul’ and perfectly represents the golden age of New Jersey R&B.

The Chosen Few are swaggering with confidence throughout the LP and draw comparisons to fellow Maple artists Lee Moses and Gloria Barnes.

‘Taking All The Love I Can’ is a highly sought after record with original issues fetching upwards of $500 when found in the wild. On High Records is

thrilled to present this modern reissue which is remastered and pressed on audiophile virgin vinyl for music lovers worldwide.

The Body & Dis Fig are a natural pair. Each has pioneered instantly recognizable worlds of sound all their own that defy any traditional categorizations or boundaries. The Body, Lee Buford and Chip King, continually challenge any conventional conception of metal, collaborating with myriad artists and from the folk-leanings of their work with BIG|BRAVE to their groundbreaking work with the Assembly of Light Choir to the intensity of their collaborations with OAA or Thou. Dis Fig, aka Felicia Chen, pushes electronic music into dark extremes, from warped DJ sets to avant production, from being a member of Tianzhuo Chen’s performance-art series TRANCE to being the vocalist with The Bug. The Body and Dis Fig find kinship in reimagining what it means to make “heavy music”. Their debut Orchards of a Futile Heaven is the perfect synthesis of two forces, twisting melodicism and intoxicating rhythms, layering a dense miasma of distortion with intense beats and a soaring voice clawing its way towards absolution.

Orchards of a Futile Heaven’s walls of sputtering texture and tectonic booms are soaked in the reverence and melancholy of sacred spaces brought to life by palpable intensity by Chen’s voice. Crafted during a time of personal fragility, the album’s devastating force lies beyond any of the expected noise and abrasive textures typically associated with both The Body & Dis Fig. Suffused with a raw vulnerability and a longing for catharsis, Chen’s voice searches for escape in the midst of oppressive atmospheres as if determined to find relief from guilt. “Eternal Hours” patiently unfurls waves of surprising sounds, whispered undulations that are punctuated by sudden crashes, all beneath Chen’s haunting harmonies. “Dissent, Shame” evokes grief and shame with a minimalist drone dirge that gradually builds to an enchanting choral passage. King’s guitar on “Holy Lance” matches the uncanny drone of Chen’s accordion in an all-consuming blast, Chen’s voice transforming the moment from anguish to defiance and empowerment. The album’s arc finishes with “Coils of Kaa” acting as a kind of propulsive exorcism, breaking through a suffocating air before the funeral procession of “Back to the Water” lays the album to rest.

While sampling has long been essential to each, The Body & Dis Fig deftly meld their differing approaches to sampling and creating extreme sounds until the boundaries are entirely blurred. The two found kinship in their desire to find new avenues to make heavy music that looked beyond tropes of metal and electronic music by merging the two. “I always wanted the heavier stuff but I also didn’t really like heavier guitar music,” says Buford. “None of it really felt quite heavy enough to me. A human can’t be as heavy as a machine.” Chen counters, “I love the balance. You could never connect to just a machine as well as you could a human. Which is why the combination is so potent for me. I don’t want to hide. I think nothing connects you more empathetically than another human's voice.”

Orchards of a Futile Heaven affirms The Body & Dis Fig as skilled sound sculptors who have an exceptional ability to make deeply affecting music, bracing as it is touching, harrowing as it is awe-inspiring. Together, the two have harnessed their expansive artistry to make music that is profoundly emotional, and staggering in its beauty.

The Body & Dis Fig are a natural pair. Each has pioneered instantly recognizable worlds of sound all their own that defy any traditional categorizations or boundaries. The Body, Lee Buford and Chip King, continually challenge any conventional conception of metal, collaborating with myriad artists and from the folk-leanings of their work with BIG|BRAVE to their groundbreaking work with the Assembly of Light Choir to the intensity of their collaborations with OAA or Thou. Dis Fig, aka Felicia Chen, pushes electronic music into dark extremes, from warped DJ sets to, avant production. From being a member of Tianzhuo Chen"s performance-art series TRANCE, to being the vocalist with The Bug. The Body and Dis Fig find kinship in reimagining what it means to make "heavy music". Their debut Orchards of a Futile Heaven is the perfect synthesis of two forces, twisting melodicism and intoxicating rhythms, layering a dense miasma of distortion with intense beats, and a soaring voice clawing its way towards absolution. Orchards of a Futile Heaven affirms The Body & Dis Fig"s distinct and unified tastes as skilled sound sculptors who have an exceptional ability to make deeply affecting music, bracing as it is touching, harrowing as it is awe-inspiring. Together, the three have harnessed their expansive artistry to make music that is profoundly emotional, and staggering in its beauty.