Buscar:shapes 11

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

Das 2012er Studioalbum "New York Connection" von Sweet wird neu veröffentlicht. Das Album wird zum ersten Mal auf farbigem Vinyl gepresst und als Sonderedition auf CD mit Bonustracks, die nicht auf der Originalveröffentlichung enthalten sind. "New York Connection" ist eine Auswahl von Stücken, die ursprünglich von anderen Künstlern geschrieben wurden, denen die Band aber unverkennbar ihren eigenen Sound verpasst hat.

Dekmantel UFO Series continues its resurgent form with a new album of bruising, industrial wave and techno from Broken English Club. UK techno mainstay Oliver Ho debuted his dark and brooding alias more than 10 years ago with a release on Jealous God under the guidance of the late, great Juan Mendez (Silent Servant) — Songs Of Love And Decay is explicitly dedicated to Mendez, whose influence runs deep in this seductively sinister corner of underground, independent electronic music.

Within the overarching aesthetic of the Broken English Club sound, Ho finds the freedom to deliver a full spectrum album as diverse as it is consistent. You can sense the shadow of his roots in 90s tribal techno punching through on 'Crawling' and 'Death Cult', while 'England Heretic' leans on thick swathes of analogue synthesis indebted to Giallo soundtracks and the ever-compelling lure of 80s synthwave. In its grinding layers of distortion and dubbed out vocals 'Vessel Of Skin' speaks more to the post-punk influences which have set Broken English Club apart since the outset. This isn't a purely retro-fetishist expedition, though — 'Pacific Island Kill' and 'Lost Gods' exude stark modernism in their sharply-angled sequences and dramatic sound design, moving beyond the functional demands of 4/4 dance music to reach to more cinematic zones.

These are but some of the approaches Ho burrows into as he shapes out the depth and breadth of his muse on Songs Of Love And Decay. It's marked by the undeniable impact of his production, perfected over a decades-deep career at the bleeding edge of machine music. At times the album celebrates the addictive thrust of the dancefloor, while elsewhere it relishes the tension of suspended animation. Throughout, the gritty veneer binds together this accomplished, uncompromising body of work as both a fierce artistic statement and a loving tribute to Mendez — an artist who equally embodied the darker side of the dance.

Cult musician Paddy Hanna announces his forthcoming album Oylegate with the release of his new song ‘Oylegate Station’, out Wednesday, 29th January via Strange Brew Records.

In celebration of Oylegate, which arrives on Friday, 11th April, Hanna plays Whelans on Thursday, 17th April. Tickets are €21.95 + fees and can be purchased here.

After his fourth album, Imagine I’m Hoping, arrived to critical acclaim but not the mainstream success needed for him to continue on as a musician, Hanna found himself at a personal and artistic low point. However, thanks to support from the Arts Council and the encouragement of his family, ‘Oylegate Station’ sees Hanna returning as the intrepid captain of his own ship; he may not know the destination, but he’ll see us along the journey with his graceful pop sensibilities.

Speaking about the new track, Hanna’s cryptic explanation could be confused for a missive from a lonely cosmonaut: “Low rent fuel, caffeine of all shapes, the midpoint of hope and despair, engine still running at Oylegate Station.”
Elation and exhaustion. Love and terror. The weight of responsibility and the strange, disorienting beauty of watching life unfold before your eyes. OLYEGATE, the latest album from Paddy Hanna, is a journey through the euphoric highs and crushing lows of parenthood, delivered with his signature blend of melancholic wit and lush, off-kilter charm.

Determined to sidestep the usual sentimental trappings of writing about having a child, Hanna found an unlikely creative companion in grim Soviet-era cinema. As he wrote, films like Solaris flickered in the background—bleak, meditative landscapes that mirrored the depths of sleep deprivation and the existential wonder of bringing a new life into the world. This contrast of warmth and detachment, of intimate revelation and surreal detour, courses through the album’s DNA.

Despite its moments of cold introspection, OLYEGATE is sonically rich and enveloping—an effect captured in a single request to producer Daniel Fox: "sweet, sweet caramel." Hanna wanted the music to feel like satin lining the listener’s ears, wrapping them in warmth even when the themes tilt towards darkness.

True to form, OLYEGATE marks yet another creative leap for an artist who refuses to be boxed in. "One advantage of being an ‘artist’s artist’ is that you never have to worry about being creatively different between albums. There's real freedom in doing whatever you want and not being judged for it. And even if you are judged, who gives a shit?"

That spirit of fearless exploration—of finding joy in the unknown, the absurd, and the deeply personal—defines OLYEGATE. An odyssey of tenderness and turbulence, it’s the sound of an artist embracing life’s messiest, most beautiful contradictions.

During the pandemic, The Ophelias transformed uncertainty into Spring Grove, their fourth album and most dynamic offering yet. Named after a Cincinnati cemetery, the album blends nostalgia with fresh perspective, reflecting on themes of relationships, identity, and power dynamics. Singer-songwriter Spencer Peppet draws from her OCD diagnosis during the pandemic and the clarity that comes with growing older, resulting in lyrics that explore the cracks and complexities of human connection.

Produced by Julien Baker, who adds lush textures and harmonies, Spring Grove marks a turning point in the band’s evolution. Recorded at Young Avenue Sound in Memphis, the album centers on the core quartet—Peppet, violinist Andrea Gutmann Fuentes, bassist Jo Shaffer, and drummer Mic Adams—with arrangements that balance cinematic intensity and delicacy. Gutmann Fuentes’s violin provides striking countermelodies, while Shaffer’s bass lines, inspired by doom metal, explore melodic depth. Adams’s drumming reflects his first project after transitioning, offering nuanced rhythms that blend power and tenderness.

With one queer and two trans members, the band has moved beyond the reductive label of an “all-girl” group, delving deeply into themes of womanhood and identity. Tracks like “Salome” and “Parade” examine power dynamics and friendship, while nature imagery in songs like “Cumulonimbus” and “Vulture Tree” mirrors lived experience. Across 13 tracks, the album’s cinematic and introspective journey scavenges the past for meaning, ultimately embracing transformation. On the closing track, “Shapes,” Peppet reaches serene acceptance, singing, “I see what’s coming after... a reflection in the water. I am rippling forever.”

Spring Grove captures the band’s evolution, offering a transcendent meditation on self-awareness, identity, and growth, leaving listeners with a sense of profound discovery.

"Volcanic Tongue" war ein Plattenladen, der von 2005-2015 in Glasgow von David Keenan und Heather Leigh betrieben wurde und zeitgenössische DIY-Musik aus der ganzen Welt in kleinen selbstgemachten CD-R-Auflagen veröffentliche. Parallel versuchte man, vergessene Künstler aus der Vergangenheit ins Rampenlicht zu rücken, die ihre Musik oft als Privatpressung veröffentlicht hatten. Der Laden war für seine wöchentliche Mailingliste bekannt, in der Keenan enthusiastisch über Neuankömmlinge rappte, insbesondere über die Platte der Woche, die den Spitznamen "tip of the tongue" (Zungenspitze) erhielt. Dieser eklektische Sampler mit 20 "tips of the tongue" - von Outsider-Synth über Psych-Folk bis zu kaputtem Rock'n'Roll, aufgenommen zwischen 1968-2013 - ist eine Hommage an eine lebendige und vielseitige Underground-Avantgarde. Black Vinyl 2LP in PVC-Hülle, von Julian House designt, mit bedruckten Innentaschen samt Linernotes von David Keenan zu jedem Künstler.

PS: Gleichzeitig erscheint beim White Rabbit-Verlag eine Deluxe-Ausgabe des gleichnamigen Buches mit einer CD-Version des Samplers, limitiert auf 1.000 Exemplare, und signiert von Autor David Keenan und Designer Julian House.

Am 28. März 2025 erscheint das neue Album ”Shapeshifter” von Memphis May Fire als CD und Vinyl:

45 Pounds is a record of thrilling cacophony: whirring drums meet the sound of instruments which have been twisted and bent into new shapes, all of which are paired with the arresting growls of Zack Borzone. Across the record the four-piece re-imagine what is possible within the confines of a band set up, creating music that perfectly encapsulates the information overload of our times.

The band have become known for their stellar live performances and now with 45 Pounds they have set that electrifying feeling to record. With 45 Pounds YHWH Nailgun have created a statement that is short to cut through the modern day post-algorithmic sludge. Stay tuned for more news.

It has been over a decade since Anthony Mills created Wildcookie, his most celebrated project. With tracks like Heroine and Serious Drug, the album Cookie Dough gained worldwide recognition, landing on numerous radio playlists, including Gilles Peterson’s show. Even after all these years, it remains a favorite on streaming platforms. Now, fourteen years later, Mills returns, teaming up with Marek “Latarnik” Pędziwiatr to create Crack Rock—a bold evolution of Wildcookie’s legacy.
While Wildcookie’s signature warm, jazzy Fender Rhodes sound defined its identity, Crack Rock shifts toward 1980s-inspired compositions crafted by Pędziwiatr, known for his work with EABS, Błoto, and Zima Stulecia. The duo explored yacht rock, drawing inspiration from Fleetwood Mac and Michael McDonald, maintaining the genre’s clean vocals and catchy melodies. However, their experimental spirit pushed the sound further, distorting the polished yacht rock aesthetic—leading to Crack Rock, a clever wordplay reflecting both the music and its themes.
Anthony Mills is known for layered wordplay, and the album’s name nods to deeper personal struggles. “I listened to the song Crack on repeat—it brought me to tears. Growing up in the crack era was painful. The PTSD I endured is now a powerful source of inspiration.” This raw emotional backdrop adds an edge to Crack Rock’s themes of love and human relationships—what Mills calls “cold love”: alluring, grand, yet ultimately destructive. Like an addiction, you keep coming back for more.
This idea of addiction shapes the duo’s sonic exploration—beneath the catchy melodies lie deeper, pain-laden themes wrapped in metaphor. “I see this album as therapy, a testament to the magic we create in the studio,” says Pędziwiatr. “Our process is a mix of musical mastery and deep conversations about life. For me, it feels like soul cleansing.

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

My Boy, the third solo record from New Zealand singer/ songwriter Marlon Williams, announces an artist emerging anew. Gone is the solemn, country-indebted crooner with the velvet voice - in his place comes a playful, shapeshifting creature. Following the release of his second album, 2018's Make Way For Love, Williams' toured the world, playing major festivals and collaborating with Lorde, Yo-Yo Ma and Florence Welch. He also forged a fledgling acting career with roles in films The True History of the Kelly Gang and Netflix series Sweet Tooth, as well as a cameo in Oscar winning film A Star Is Born. My Boy parlays this flush of worldly experience into a vivid record as spirited and kinetic as the unfolding life of its performer. "I've always explored different character elements in my music," says Williams. "And the more I get into acting, the more tricks I'm learning about representation and presentation. To get braver and bolder with exploring shifting contexts and new ways of doing things." As the pandemic paused global travel, Williams found himself at home in New Zealand, reconnecting with family and friends. Soon new demos and lyrical themes emerged: of self-identity and escapism; tribalism and a gnarled family tree; and ruminations on the role of masculinity and mateship. Co-produced with Tom Healy and recorded at Roundhead Studios in New Zealand, My Boy finds Williams' leading a new band through a set of genre-hopping tunes: from the cheery sway of `My Boy' and chugging `80s noir sheen of `Thinking Of Nina', to the charging synth of `River Rival', and the sultry pop jam `Don't Go Back.' All this sonic and emotional whiplash is intentional, and ultimately My Boy sees Williams having fun, even while interrogating the behaviors of himself and those around him.

My Boy, the third solo record from New Zealand singer/ songwriter Marlon Williams, announces an artist emerging anew. Gone is the solemn, country-indebted crooner with the velvet voice - in his place comes a playful, shapeshifting creature. Following the release of his second album, 2018's Make Way For Love, Williams' toured the world, playing major festivals and collaborating with Lorde, Yo-Yo Ma and Florence Welch. He also forged a fledgling acting career with roles in films The True History of the Kelly Gang and Netflix series Sweet Tooth, as well as a cameo in Oscar winning film A Star Is Born. My Boy parlays this flush of worldly experience into a vivid record as spirited and kinetic as the unfolding life of its performer. "I've always explored different character elements in my music," says Williams. "And the more I get into acting, the more tricks I'm learning about representation and presentation. To get braver and bolder with exploring shifting contexts and new ways of doing things." As the pandemic paused global travel, Williams found himself at home in New Zealand, reconnecting with family and friends. Soon new demos and lyrical themes emerged: of self-identity and escapism; tribalism and a gnarled family tree; and ruminations on the role of masculinity and mateship. Co-produced with Tom Healy and recorded at Roundhead Studios in New Zealand, My Boy finds Williams' leading a new band through a set of genre-hopping tunes: from the cheery sway of `My Boy' and chugging `80s noir sheen of `Thinking Of Nina', to the charging synth of `River Rival', and the sultry pop jam `Don't Go Back.' All this sonic and emotional whiplash is intentional, and ultimately My Boy sees Williams having fun, even while interrogating the behaviors of himself and those around him.

Demonstrating the poignant power of experience + human connection + innate musicality + operating in the present moment, Jeff Mills' Spiral Deluxe collective unveil their second album - The Love Pretender. Driven by the free expression and creativity of improvised performance, Spiral Deluxe is an electronic jazz fusion project comprised electronic music visionary Jeff, along with legendary keyboardist Gerald Mitchell (Underground Resistance/ Los Hermanos), Japanese rocker Yumiko Ohno (Buffalo Daughter/Cornelius) on Moog synthesizer and the Japanese bassist, adopted New Yorker, Kenji "Jino" Hino - son of Terumasa Hino, the world famous jazz trumpeter. Together, the four key players formed a band centred around completely improvised journeys through sound.

During their unrestrained performances, what Jeff describes as sonic "conversations" arose between the musicians, as they each contributed to full-length live shows, and studio sessions. Within the boundless parameters of freeform spontaneity, they developed an unspoken understanding of one another, finding balance and poise within the unplanned performances. The resulting recordings have been used for three releases so far: Two EPs, Kobe Session (2016) and Tathata (2017), and their debut album Voodoo Magic in 2018. With The Love Pretender, we're presented with another stunning collection of "tracks" extracted from one long improv session.

With each musician proficient in their specialism and, of course, an all-out music lover, the communication between the group members became almost telepathic. Very little preparation was needed, and their performances flowed naturally and organically. This can be heard, and felt, throughout The Love Pretender. Tracks like 'The Soloist' evolve effortlessly, each new shift subtly influenced by one of the musicians nudging the conversation into a different phase, and the rest responding accordingly, or vice versa. It's music that embodies the true nature of mindfulness and letting go of fear. In their unstructured, liberated cocoon the artists thrive and create musical moments that have, fortunately, been captured for us all to immerse ourselves in. Jazzy notes fill the air, combined with electronic bass, synthesised beats, sparkling keys and an all-round warm and welcoming atmosphere, with the slight edge you can only get from improvised performance.

Sylvain Luc's posthumous appearance on the album is of significance too. The French guitarist died in March 2024 at the age of 59. His natural flair adds another dimension to the album, bringing a touch of that laid back 1980s American California Coast feeling to tracks such as 'Society's Man'. These contributions to the LP, recorded separately, add character - a final sprinkling of humanity to complement the aliveness and presence of this body of work. Three other musicians also added their creative energy to the project. They were; TOKU, a Japanese jazz musician who specialises in wind instruments, especially the cornet, trumpet and flugel horn. And there's Masa Shimizu, who also has wide-ranging with the guitar, as well as being a producer.

Themes on the album include the optimism one can have by simply trusting the process and trusting that everything will work out in the end. By playing together in the way they do, Spiral Deluxe place their trust in the mystery of what will happen next. Getting comfortable with not knowing is key to a sense of peace with regard to the future and this energy is vital to their collective musical output. By embracing the notion of the unknown, you become an eternal optimist, living in the moment, rather than projecting into the future. This cultivates excitement, an antidote to anxiety.

Meanwhile, the title alludes to the shifts and changes that have occurred in today's society, whereby it's possible to achieve success through pretending. The superficiality, and falsehood, that can often be presented via social media, can lead to questions about what's real and what's not. From AI to the fake personas that populate the dominant platforms, The Love Pretender speaks to a process that is symbolic of the time we're living in. Behaviour that has become acceptable in today's world, which may not have been as welcomed a few decades ago. But this is part of the cycle of life...

Jeff's intention with this music is to present it in high-fidelity, to be listened to over and over and over again. In post-recording he worked for hours to ensure the audio quality was as high as it could be. The goal is to create music that people can live with their entire lives, from his solo work to these masterful improvisations. Music that comes to life, music that has a voice we can replicate with our own vocals. Expressive, unstructured, and alive...

With The Love Pretender Jeff Mills continues his mission to experiment with music outside the bounds of what is typically expected. It's freeing, enlivening, vibrant and uniquely human. As ever, Jeff's visionary outlook and bold approach to musical performance and recording has produced a body of work that epitomises his often revolutionary capabilities. There's no pretending here, just pure unadulterated sonic transmissions from a wonderfully daring, inspiring and optimistic ensemble...

A side is a full side tune in the vein of Whiston Road Hardfloor spirit ! At the end of the side you'll get a kicking perfect locked groove.

The flip bring 2 Melly's bangers...

A western tradition !

DJ Support: The Shapeshifters, Riva Starr, Mousse T., Michael Gray, Dr. Packer, Richard Earnshaw

Serge Funk having made a recent name for himself as a wonderkid for disco- and funky-house versions. A re-editor for the diggers as opposed to the baitheads, 'Groovy Theme' and 'Cherry Bomb' are utter bangers devoid of much relation to their originals (indeed, there's no way of telling what the samples are without a record buyers' knowledge), in large part thanks to their working into beat-centric structures that drown out the vocals in favour of kick slappage and gut-punchage. Rhythm over theme; keeping things vibey, felt.

"Every night we've been listening to RATTLE. They have a stark yet deep trance percussion vibe that is both holistic and rocking." Thurston Moore
“Quietly dramatic and loudly intimate.” The Quietus
“Two drum sets. Two voices. One great idea.” MOJO
Rattle are Katharine Eira Brown and Theresa Wrigley, they formed in 2011 after meeting on the live circuit whilst both playing in other bands. Katharine was a guitarist who had recently started playing drums in the band Kogumaza, whilst Theresa was the drummer in Nottingham band Fists. They’ve since released two long-players, 2016’s self-titled debut album Rattle (Upset The Rhythm / I Own You) and 2018’s Sequence (Upset The Rhythm) to much critical acclaim in the music press, and with James Acaster discussing the debut on his BBC Sounds podcast Perfect Sounds!
Rattle have honed the four songs that make up ‘Encircle’ by playing them live over the last few years, adapting and stretching them into endlessly inventive new shapes, playing with the concept of time and expectation. ‘Encircle’ was recorded at Foel Studios, Wales, produced and mixed by Mark Jasper, and mastered at Liminal Audio by Shaun Crook. The stunningly colourful artwork was created by Martha Glazzard, who was also responsible for Rattle’s other mesmeric covers.
‘All Burning’ opens the album, a live favourite of cyclical tumbling and evolving wordplay. ‘All Burning’ was built up gradually layer by layer with Theresa’s cumulative snare work and Katherine’s urgent calls for action: “hold your doctor, hold your daughter, hold your horses”. If ‘All Burning’ represents fire, then it’s accompanying 12-minute long track on Side 1, ‘Argot’, is informed by the air. ‘Argot’ is a song about uncertainty, with Katherine singing wordlessly across the majority of the track. “I prefer to sing wordlessly often because it feels a bit more expressive and universal” asserts Katherine. The track feels truly epic with a satisfying release that comes with the eventual introduction of the bass drum and snappy hi-hat section.

Side 2 also pairs a shorter song with a long-form composition. ‘Ritual’ is worked up from a simple snare drum pattern which becomes more and more overlapped into an elliptical form of waltz. Katherine considers ‘Ritual’ as “very earthy song - lots of low lying mist on the ground swirling around and the drums coming together to summon something”! ‘Ritual’ was inspired by a visit to the ruins of Boleskine House so multi-dimensional themes and occult practice loom large. ‘Your Move’ is a step-up gear change with the band wanting it to feel like the tape had suddenly started to spin faster, urging movement, venturing action. Clocking in at over 15 minutes, ‘Your Move’, is mesmeric and boundless, hypnotic in its minimalism of doubled-drums and almost tribal vocal cycles.
With ‘Encircle’ Rattle have grown again, these songs are alive with elemental power. They build-up and disintegrate, existing in two places at once, embracing the nuance, tracing the circle’s edge. These are modes of song as pure gesture and eternal imagination, refined in mirrors after midnight.
Rattle has performed at The Barbican, London and toured the UK with Animal Collective and Thurston Moore Group and Europe with The Julie Ruin and Protomartyr, and performed with Hot Snakes, Bill Orcutt Quartetand Codeine.