Cerca:slow crush

They grew closer as restrictions dropped away and audiences grew, using the shifts to experiment with their material and reach more expansive and formidable levels. The final product is a landmine of sound, inspired by the raw, sweeping fuzz of the likes of Sonic Youth and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Familiar elements of noughties era guitar shine through, confronted with cutting contemporary angst to create a nostalgic yet intoxicating sound. As the band's confidence grew through their live shows they were liberated, taking all they had learnt in order to begin working on "a lot more cohesive and bigger sounding" project

Capofortuna is a duo made up of legendary Bologna-based house maestro, DJ Rame and multi-instrumentalist Ricky Cardelli from Rimini. Perhaps our 'housiest' release to date. Crush On You is an EP of particularly sophisticated forward thinking dance music. With glorious live instrumentation and joyous arrangements this is the kind of record that is going to slip right into many DJ's collections. Don't sleep on this one.

Since the release of DAMAGED in 2024, Michael Fiedler aka GHOST DUBS has been surfing intensifying waves of adulation, earning praise from such diverse underground legends as Justin Broadrick (Godflesh/Jesu), Regis, Stefan Betke (Pole) and Steve Von Till (Neurosis). With second album Oblique, his mastery of sculpting sound waves results in a spellbinding set of alien soundscapes: larger in scale, richer in tone and considerably more cinematic than its predecessor. Lower, deeper and moodier, its cloudy abstractions, shadowy pulsations and submerged rhythms find Fiedler reaching further into his own sonic void, crafting blurred melodies and addictive narco loops into something simultaneously heavyweight and hypnotic.

Lead single and album opener “Low Times” sets the atmospheric pressure to maximum, resembling a dream date between prime dirt-house era Andy Stott and Berlin dub-tech pioneers Basic Channel. From there, Oblique descends into a series of enchanting mood scenes: the furtive, balletic gyrations of “After All”, the haunting ambience and buried heartbeat throb of “Soft Collapse”, and the noirish atmospherics of “Blackout Dust”, which worms its way into the mind like some forgotten David Lynch scene. The spirit of reggae is more distanced here than on DAMAGED, but the ghost of Jamaican dub still permeates these foggy soundscapes, particularly on “Bombed Suburbs”, where Augustus Pablo-style melodicism is chopped, screwed and slowed into a magnetic lock groove.

Superficially minimal but maximal in its minute detail, Oblique is a record of contorted reflections, mesmeric echoes and tantalising audio mirages. By the vaporous mist of closing track “Almost a Structure”, obvious rhythm has been craftily filtered away, leaving a blurred and blunted residue full of mystery and implied narrative. Dense in the best possible sense and crushing when played loud yet equally potent played quiet, Oblique imagines dub techno burning its own rigid rulebook: sensual, funky and concussive rather than dry or alienating. Following Fiedler’s recent work scoring Sound of Falling, recognised at Cannes in 2025, Oblique finds Ghost Dubs shedding his influences and making it clear he has arrived at a sound entirely his own — essential deep listening and a bewitching dose of future shock.

For more than 20 years, every CASPIAN album has been driven by a desire to stretch boundaries — a relentless ambition that's resulted in one of post-rock's most revered catalogs and established the Massachusetts quintet as an enduring, global force in the genre's modern era. On CASPIAN, the band’s first album in six years and debut for Wax Bodega, the more unexpected way forward was to stop searching for what they hadn’t yet done and instead trust what had defined them from the beginning.

The six-song, 39-minute effort draws freely from the musical vocabulary the band have spent their career writing: evocative melodic themes, dense textures, swelling crescendos and crushing heaviness that rolls in like a slow-moving storm on the horizon. But they still find new possibilities within those familiar contours, allowing patient development and repetition to carry as much weight as surprise. The nine-minute “Remain” turns a recurring melody into a sweeping study in tension and release, while “No One Left to Tell” layers subtle shifts around a hypnotic tremolo figure and “A Great Fire” sends serpentine guitars crashing into buzzsaw riffs. Even the graceful 3/4-time closer “Waltz for the End,” completed in a half-hour burst of inspiration, reflects the quiet confidence of five musicians comfortable enough in their skin to resist tearing everything down for the sake of reinvention, even as the circumstances surrounding them change dramatically.

For more than 20 years, every CASPIAN album has been driven by a desire to stretch boundaries — a relentless ambition that's resulted in one of post-rock's most revered catalogs and established the Massachusetts quintet as an enduring, global force in the genre's modern era. On CASPIAN, the band’s first album in six years and debut for Wax Bodega, the more unexpected way forward was to stop searching for what they hadn’t yet done and instead trust what had defined them from the beginning.

The six-song, 39-minute effort draws freely from the musical vocabulary the band have spent their career writing: evocative melodic themes, dense textures, swelling crescendos and crushing heaviness that rolls in like a slow-moving storm on the horizon. But they still find new possibilities within those familiar contours, allowing patient development and repetition to carry as much weight as surprise. The nine-minute “Remain” turns a recurring melody into a sweeping study in tension and release, while “No One Left to Tell” layers subtle shifts around a hypnotic tremolo figure and “A Great Fire” sends serpentine guitars crashing into buzzsaw riffs. Even the graceful 3/4-time closer “Waltz for the End,” completed in a half-hour burst of inspiration, reflects the quiet confidence of five musicians comfortable enough in their skin to resist tearing everything down for the sake of reinvention, even as the circumstances surrounding them change dramatically.

Nine-time GRAMMY® winner Anderson .Paak and GRAMMY®-nominated rapper Cordae have been operating on the same wavelength for years. What started as pure chemical reaction on 2019’s “RNP” slowly turned into one of hip-hop’s most natural, low-ego partnerships, fueled by back-and-forth gems like “Two Tens” and “Summer Drop” and a series of dynamic TV performances that felt more like two best friends hanging out than a polished routine. On their debut collaborative album, Heavy Is The Crown, that organic bond gets the full-length treatment it’s always deserved.

At its core, the project is a tightrope walk between serious real-life stakes and uncompromising fun. The title isn't just bravado—it speaks directly to the shared weight both artists carry as the primary providers and anchors for their families. But instead of letting that pressure crush the vibe, .Paak and Cordae lean into each other. Meeting as total equals, .Paak’s elastic, soul-drenched musicality anchors Cordae’s razor-sharp lyricism, allowing both to unpack the heavy reality of success and family responsibility without ever losing their spark.

That balance is what makes the album tick. To drive the point home, the album art pays homage to the cult comedy Step Brothers—a nod to the silly, irreverent friendship that birthed the music in the first place. Heavy Is The Crown doesn't feel like a forced corporate crossover or a calculated career move. It’s a record about brotherhood, family, and what happens when two masters of their craft step into the studio simply because nobody makes them laugh, rap, or create quite like the other.

Nine-time GRAMMY® winner Anderson .Paak and GRAMMY®-nominated rapper Cordae have been operating on the same wavelength for years. What started as pure chemical reaction on 2019’s “RNP” slowly turned into one of hip-hop’s most natural, low-ego partnerships, fueled by back-and-forth gems like “Two Tens” and “Summer Drop” and a series of dynamic TV performances that felt more like two best friends hanging out than a polished routine. On their debut collaborative album, Heavy Is The Crown, that organic bond gets the full-length treatment it’s always deserved.

At its core, the project is a tightrope walk between serious real-life stakes and uncompromising fun. The title isn't just bravado—it speaks directly to the shared weight both artists carry as the primary providers and anchors for their families. But instead of letting that pressure crush the vibe, .Paak and Cordae lean into each other. Meeting as total equals, .Paak’s elastic, soul-drenched musicality anchors Cordae’s razor-sharp lyricism, allowing both to unpack the heavy reality of success and family responsibility without ever losing their spark.

That balance is what makes the album tick. To drive the point home, the album art pays homage to the cult comedy Step Brothers—a nod to the silly, irreverent friendship that birthed the music in the first place. Heavy Is The Crown doesn't feel like a forced corporate crossover or a calculated career move. It’s a record about brotherhood, family, and what happens when two masters of their craft step into the studio simply because nobody makes them laugh, rap, or create quite like the other.

Balaise was the original title of Vers le Nord’s debut album. In French slang, balaise means something in between badass and flamboyant. The word keeps popping up throughout the record, like a teenager’s graffiti scrawled on a bus shelter after a few drinks. Balaise robots. Balaise ghosts lurking in the shadows. Balaise is the barfly who fantasies about becoming a street vigilante. In many ways, Matthieu Pellerin's new solo project is entirely contained within that word: a gigantic piece one man against the world cobbled together, a monument shaped by hand using layers of synthesizers sounding like cathedral organs cast in concrete.


Stitching this type of freak together took time. Five years, or what sounds like forever in an age obsessed with career trajectories and content strategies. But for Matthieu Pellerin, it was never about career plans or taking the easy road. Or he would have dug up the rotting corpse of Oi Boys, his now-defunct band, whose brief existence and explosive popularity once united sullen skinheads, gothic street punks, and old school punks alike. Or he would have fully embraced the Metz scene, now that the Great International Triple Alliance of the East (Noir Boy George, The Dreams, The Feeling Of Love...) and rising solo acts like Tune Zitoune, Josy Bazar, Fantôme Josepha, and Tony Gerrano have somehow transformed this sprawling open-air heroin camp into an unlikely capital of cool. But Vers le Nord doesn't point East, and it is as a lone rider that Matthieu Pellerin can fully reveal his songwriting scope.


With Le Seul Élément, his first solo project, the Lorraine native had already shown a rare gift for crafting worlds. Picture vast sonic masses stretching like industrial zones, noise-filled fog pierced by pale neon lights and landscapes caught somewhere between the gnarliest dive bar and a doomsday bunker. And slipping through the soul-crushing slowness and fractured blackened atmospheres, one could perceive a throwback to his years plotting in black metal-tinged Loth and Bishop.

Vers le Nord populates those landscapes that once were rough sketches. Damaged characters reign supreme, with a plethora of exquisite mutts brought to life, rather than outcasts committed to the cause. Where Nuits Blanches —his new supergroup featuring members of Rixe, Lion's Law, Headbussa and La Femme— pulls no punches with raw confessions, Pellerin switches gear for tales of robot apocalypses, vagrants and fam-seeking school shooters, delivered with William Sheller-esque rhymes and striking images. Yet even within fiction, he manages to create something deeply intimate, almost defining, showing very little effort: he is a natural. All in all, à l’aise (at ease). Songs resonate deeply with the listener, perhaps because of Pellerin’s odd way or always addressing someone without ever really naming them, a floating, obsessive and inescapable “you” calling us out.


Despite all of the darkness, Vers le Nord stirs deep emotions. There is something of Type O Negative or Anna von Hausswolff in its constant collision of the ludicrous and the epic gothic, its bleak romanticism that never tells a sordid tale. While the vocals remain rooted in a distinctly French punk lineage—think No Class, La Souris Déglinguée and OG Bérurier Noir—the reactor core is hidden somewhere else. Oneohtrix Point Never feels like a closer relative with his ultra-emotional music made of cold synths and disembodied anthems, swallowing and regurgitating forty years of icy, contemplative new wave across ten songs. It comes as no surprise that Lila Ehjä and Aimable, two rising specialists in lowering the temperature below seasonal norms, appear on “Enterrez-moi bordel” (“Bury Me, for fuck's sake”), a grandiose, spectral and magnificently arrogant finale. And in the end, Vers le Nord starts where the original idea was hiding all along: somewhere amid the ruins, definitely balaise and yet somehow, completely à l'aise.

Following in the steps of last year's mysterious "Beyond the Garage" 12 inch, L.I.E.S. throws another curveball with a 30 track continuous LP from veteran West Coast producers, Vinny+Charlie. Each side running 20 minutes, this can best be described as a smoked out, haze filled afterparty beat tape on wax. Obscure samples, dusty sp-12 crushed beats, head nodding loops, sweet low rider soul..chopped, sped up, slowed down and ready to wreck your system. Limited edition white label housed in a lp jacket with custom art by LA artist SOB STORY. 300 copies worldwide.

Absentia marks the powerful return of Belgium's Splendidula with a deeply immersive journey into atmospheric black doom metal. Massive slow burning riffs, reverberating guitars and layered vocal textures create a dense and haunting soundscape where crushing doom weight meets the cold, ethereal edge of black metal. The album unfolds through dark, hypnotic atmospheres and emotionally charged passages, balancing melancholy, intensity and cinematic depth.
Two outstanding special guests add further impact to the record: Aaron Stainthorpe of My Dying Bride and High Parasite, and Tim Yatras known for Austere and Germ. Their distinctive voices add depth and intensity, further enhancing the dramatic and evocative atmosphere of this powerful and immersive album.

For fans of: Alcest, My Dying Bride, Amenra, Sylvaine, Austere

In early 2025 Oakland-based Jerod S. Rivera released his second full length Dot-Dash, featuring a collaboration with CST co-founder Cat Lauigan and Jonathan James Carr. From the beginning we were mesmerized with the result, a perfect melding of Cat's processed spoken-word and Jerod's Buchla experimentations.

The thought of remixes presented immediately, the material extra ripe for interpolation. Enlisting friends from geographically and sonically disparate locations to present an ideal remix 12". Something for everyone, something for every setting, a tool with multiple functions...

The mysterious dub/techno/leftfield mastermind behind False Aralia dives further into territory explored on iri.gram, uptempo and dancefloor-ready in a more maximal Perlon-ish way while still embracing a half-time dub feel. Philipp Otterbach (Music from Memory, Offen, RIO) goes deeper into the guitar zone he’s been exploring, channeling Earth 2, Boris, and the like for some heavy drone. Oakland duo DJ ML and Wonja adopt their Motoko & Myers moniker (Future Times, Soda Gong), zeroing in on some choice vocal snippets that mesh perfectly with a live drum break and bassline for a Seefeel-esque version that could have come from a 90’s UK studio. Finally, Slowfoam embraces the more experimental elements of the original with a remix that starts sparse and minimal but builds into a glitchy rhythmic climax.

The 12” includes a 2-sided riso insert and a download code with access to an additional remix by close collaborator Jon Carr that twists the vocals into a throbbing industrial caucaphony.

Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.

While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.

Drumcode welcomes another debutant to the fold, as one of techno’s most exciting new artists, Space 92, shares his thrilling two-tracker ‘Time’.

Stepping up for his maiden Drumcode release, ‘Time’ is stirring statement of intent. Staying true to its name, the title track was a slow burner, produced over a number of months between touring commitments. Space 92’s talent for crafting tracks that are tailor-made for big dancefloor moments is seen here in full flight, as tight drum programming leads into a stirring pad sequence before a boshing bass-laden breakdown arrives with crushing effect.

The concluding chapter of Jamaica Suk’s 17-track ‘Uncertain Landscape’ series arrives with a bang, with another four explosive tracks to round it off.

Milton Bradley — aka Alien Rain — begins proceedings with a hammering assault in the form of ‘Driving Force’. Detuned, ravey synths produce a cacophonous barrage of sound as the rubbery kick groove intones more hardcore vibes. There’s a touch of John Carpenter vibes in the spooky arpeggios that permeate the more stripped back sections. Bone-crushing groove abounds throughout.

Italy’s Kill Ref delivers a distorted thumper on ‘Subbaculta’, slowly eeking out a rasping groove from the underbelly of his pummeling drums. The track keeps building throughout, the shuffling rhythm
bolstering some seriously raw machine funk in the latter half that emerges almost imperceptibly.

The ringmaster herself, Jamaica Suk, makes her contribution to the series on ‘Escape’. She conjures up a tripped-out soundscape where layers stack in potent combination. Squelchy acid licks do battle
with the stomping bass groove and heavily-reverbered sustained textures. It sounds as if there are monsters loose in the speakers.

Nicolas Bougaïeff closes this momentous four-part release with his second contribution, ‘Nocturne 3’. Rocking a stuttered kick pattern, it revolves around grunting swathes of industrial noise, on-beat
clap patterns and all manner of weird and wonderful sounds that pitch-bend, tweak and freak to delightful levels of intensity. It’s a very well arranged and sequenced track that keeps you guessing.

Kasper Marott is featured on the second release by Courtesy’s imprint Kulør, a label whose introduction to Copenhagen’s fast techno scene, Kulør 001, contributed a long-sought spin on contemporary techno. With his Forever Mix EP, Marott offers a 14-minute musical expedition through the slower-paced “Drømmen om Ø (Forever Mix ‘19)” and a personal take on his hometown’s accelerated blue euphoria with the floor-crushing “Sky Dreams”.

Artwork photography is by the Japanese artist Yoshinori Mizutani, and the vinyl will come with an A2 poster. Graphic design is by Spine Studio.

Since the release of DAMAGED in 2024, Michael Fiedler aka GHOST DUBS has been surfing intensifying waves of adulation, earning praise from such diverse underground legends as Justin Broadrick (Godflesh/Jesu), Regis, Stefan Betke (Pole) and Steve Von Till (Neurosis). With second album Oblique, his mastery of sculpting sound waves results in a spellbinding set of alien soundscapes: larger in scale, richer in tone and considerably more cinematic than its predecessor. Lower, deeper and moodier, its cloudy abstractions, shadowy pulsations and submerged rhythms find Fiedler reaching further into his own sonic void, crafting blurred melodies and addictive narco loops into something simultaneously heavyweight and hypnotic. Album opener "Low Times" sets the atmospheric pressure to maximum, resembling a dream date between prime dirt-house era Andy Stott and Berlin dub-tech pioneers Basic Channel. From there, Oblique descends into a series of enchanting mood scenes: the furtive, balletic gyrations of "After All", the haunting ambience and buried heartbeat throb of "Soft Collapse", and the noirish atmospherics of "Blackout Dust", which worms its way into the mind like some forgotten David Lynch scene. The spirit of reggae is more distanced here than on DAMAGED, but the ghost of Jamaican dub still permeates these foggy soundscapes, particularly on "Bombed Suburbs", where Augustus Pablo-style melodicism is chopped, screwed and slowed into a magnetic lock groove. Superficially minimal but maximal in its minute detail, Oblique is a record of contorted reflections, mesmeric echoes and tantalising audio mirages. By the vaporous mist of closing track "Almost a Structure", obvious rhythm has been craftily filtered away, leaving a blurred and blunted residue full of mystery and implied narrative. Dense in the best possible sense and crushing when played loud yet equally potent played quiet, Oblique imagines dub techno burning its own rigid rulebook: sensual, funky and concussive rather than dry or alienating. "Second album from electronic producer Michael Fiedler's GHOST DUBS project. "Follows up from the highly-acclaimed 'Implosion' album with The Bug from 2025. "Debut album 'Damaged' sold out its three initial pressings and has just been repressed "Michael Fiedler recently scored 'Sound of Falling' which won a Cannes award in 2025 and made the shortlist for an Oscar, too.

Petrozavodsk is a heavy drone trio based in Porto and Barcelona. They add dub, experimental and improvisational elements to a crushing, drone metal sound.
“Forest Fire” is the band’s vinyl debut, and is a more concentrated, expansive, and heavy offering following their debut tape “Winter War”.
Side A kicks off with “Forest I”, a collaboration with electronic artist Container AKA Ren Schofield (US/UK). The noise/rave veteran remixes the band’s guitars into a hot bubbling swampy mess that feels very alive, propulsive, punishing, yet fun – Container fans would know.
“Forest II” is all dubbed-out drone-rock, with blackened guitar, monotonous low thrusts, and a snare that is coming from an extremely far distance – everything echoing and shaking, dubwise almost-noise effects from the drum kit eroding in wide stereo.
Side B is one longform piece “Fire” with slow-motion guitar washes, and a bass that sounds like a high rise falling down. It nods to the genre’s touchstones (Boris’ “Amplifier Worship”, Sunn O)))) while carving its own path. A downtuned wall of heavy sound.
Recorded in Catalunya and Portugal, all amps turned up high. Mixed and mastered by Moa Pillar in London, with additional mixing on “Forest II” by the band’s guitarist Anton Vasin.
Guitar: Anton Vasin
Bass: Matvei Podgornov
Drums: Ivan Zoloto

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

The Gates of Slumber’s debut album and EP reissued in August Svart Records continue to reissue the works of Indiana’s true doom metal legends The Gates of Slumber by bringing back their debut album The Awakening and early EP Like a Plague Upon the Land in late August 2026. Crushing debut The Awakening from 2004 is an album of raw, slow, monolithic traditional doom with a gritty sound. Featuring heavy, battleaxe-in-the-gut riffs and depressing, slow leads, The Awakening is strongly influenced by Pentagram and Candlemass, with Conan-style lyrical themes and Ozzy-like vocals. An essential, cult classic album for the fans of true doom. The Gates of Slumber was formed by Karl Simon in 1998. Various people were in and out of the group between 1998 and 2001, when the Blood Encrusted Deth Axe demo was recorded with Jamie Walters aka Dr. Phibes/Athenar (Boulder, Midnight) on drums and bass. In 2003 Jason McCash took over the bass duties and was a long-time member of the band until his untimely demise in 2014, after which Simon decided it was time to call it quits. That was until 2019 when the renowned metal festival Hell Over Hammaburg wanted to bring the band back on stage to perform at the festival’s 2020 edition. Simon reformed the band with its original member Chuck Brown on drums and Steve Janiak on bass and got back to work, which resulted in the new self-titled album released in 2024 on Svart Records.

The Gates of Slumber’s debut album and EP reissued in August Svart Records continue to reissue the works of Indiana’s true doom metal legends The Gates of Slumber by bringing back their debut album The Awakening and early EP Like a Plague Upon the Land in late August 2026. Crushing debut The Awakening from 2004 is an album of raw, slow, monolithic traditional doom with a gritty sound. Featuring heavy, battleaxe-in-the-gut riffs and depressing, slow leads, The Awakening is strongly influenced by Pentagram and Candlemass, with Conan-style lyrical themes and Ozzy-like vocals. An essential, cult classic album for the fans of true doom. The Gates of Slumber was formed by Karl Simon in 1998. Various people were in and out of the group between 1998 and 2001, when the Blood Encrusted Deth Axe demo was recorded with Jamie Walters aka Dr. Phibes/Athenar (Boulder, Midnight) on drums and bass. In 2003 Jason McCash took over the bass duties and was a long-time member of the band until his untimely demise in 2014, after which Simon decided it was time to call it quits. That was until 2019 when the renowned metal festival Hell Over Hammaburg wanted to bring the band back on stage to perform at the festival’s 2020 edition. Simon reformed the band with its original member Chuck Brown on drums and Steve Janiak on bass and got back to work, which resulted in the new self-titled album released in 2024 on Svart Records.

Edena Gardens unleash their most expansive work to date. Quintessence is structured in 4 parts as a Magnum Opus—the ancient alchemical process of transformation. But this is not a work of high fantasy. It is a seismic meditation. A study of deep time, weighted matter, and the crushing gravity of change. Quintessence is massive. 79+ minutes of tethered magnitude, carved into six sprawling tracks. The trio pushes further down into the void, discovering new dimensions. Each piece allow the form to stretch. To break its own boundaries. Shifting terrains and unpredictable geometry. The core remains unhurried: A slow, relentless, unabridged crawl. This sort of alchemy demands patience, allowing every sonic mutation to breathe, shift, and solidify in a new atmosphere.

Recorded by Jonas Munk (Causa Sui), the sound is rooted in a natural, anchored production, as if the band is right in front of you: Causa Sui drummer Jakob Skøtt drives the pulse and adds ghostly, sparse treatment to the mix. Nicklas Sørensen (Papir) weaves angular guitar geometry over the deep sediment of Martin Rude’s bass and baritone strings. Martin also supplies the original artwork, spreading across 4 panels (one for each vinyl side), coloured by Jakob Skøtt: A work in its own right. The final work is a massive, physical expanse: Their Quintessence.

,Crusher", das Debütalbum von Sooj - einem Gemeinschaftsprojekt von Mitgliedern von Duster und Dirty Art Club. Die Platte taucht völlig unerwartet auf, wie eine schwach beleuchtete Übertragung von irgendwo zwischen Portland, Charlotte und Santa Cruz. Crusher knüpft dort an, wo ihre 2024er-Doppel-A-Seite ,Anhedonia II / Ecstasy Cowgirl" aufgehört hat, und lässt den Slowcore von Duster in die sample-lastige, collageartige Produktion von Dirty Art Club übergehen. Das Ergebnis ist weder eine Band noch ein Nebenprojekt, sondern etwas schwerer Fassbares - ein dritter Raum, erbaut aus Bandrauschen, zerhackten Erinnerungen und nächtlichen Signalüberläufen. Während seiner gesamten Laufzeit entzieht sich das Album der Anziehungskraft der Nostalgie. Stattdessen schwebt es in einer liminalen Gegenwart - teils Zusammenarbeit, teils Fluchtweg. Sooj, gegründet von Clay Parton, Canaan Amber und Matt Cagle, entstand aus einer Tour-Freundschaft, die sich allmählich zu etwas Dauerhafterem entwickelte. Frühe Gespräche führten zu gemeinsamen Sessions, wobei Cagle von North Carolina nach Portland reiste, wo schließlich der Großteil von ,Crusher" Gestalt annahm. ,Musik zu machen ist manchmal eine seltsame, ätherische Sache", erklären Sooj. ,Es kann so zerbrechlich sein, so flüchtig. So eine Art Höhepunkt eines bestimmten Moments und des gesamten Weges davor, plus all die zusätzlichen Dinge, die sich kosmisch einmischen können."

,Crusher", das Debütalbum von Sooj - einem Gemeinschaftsprojekt von Mitgliedern von Duster und Dirty Art Club. Die Platte taucht völlig unerwartet auf, wie eine schwach beleuchtete Übertragung von irgendwo zwischen Portland, Charlotte und Santa Cruz. Crusher knüpft dort an, wo ihre 2024er-Doppel-A-Seite ,Anhedonia II / Ecstasy Cowgirl" aufgehört hat, und lässt den Slowcore von Duster in die sample-lastige, collageartige Produktion von Dirty Art Club übergehen. Das Ergebnis ist weder eine Band noch ein Nebenprojekt, sondern etwas schwerer Fassbares - ein dritter Raum, erbaut aus Bandrauschen, zerhackten Erinnerungen und nächtlichen Signalüberläufen. Während seiner gesamten Laufzeit entzieht sich das Album der Anziehungskraft der Nostalgie. Stattdessen schwebt es in einer liminalen Gegenwart - teils Zusammenarbeit, teils Fluchtweg. Sooj, gegründet von Clay Parton, Canaan Amber und Matt Cagle, entstand aus einer Tour-Freundschaft, die sich allmählich zu etwas Dauerhafterem entwickelte. Frühe Gespräche führten zu gemeinsamen Sessions, wobei Cagle von North Carolina nach Portland reiste, wo schließlich der Großteil von ,Crusher" Gestalt annahm. ,Musik zu machen ist manchmal eine seltsame, ätherische Sache", erklären Sooj. ,Es kann so zerbrechlich sein, so flüchtig. So eine Art Höhepunkt eines bestimmten Moments und des gesamten Weges davor, plus all die zusätzlichen Dinge, die sich kosmisch einmischen können."

Dead Calm is a band from Liam McCay... a young, prolific Irish musician from County Donegal, known for creating music under numerous aliases, most notably Sign Crushes Motorist, Dead Calm, and Take Care, exploring genres like slowcore and indie rock with poignant, introspective, and often melancholic themes, gaining significant online traction while maintaining a low-key, hobbyist approach to his rapidly growing career. He began with the fiddle, pivoted to guitar during the pandemic, and has since released extensive work, even turning down record deals to keep his creative process personal.

Dead Calm is a band from Liam McCay... a young, prolific Irish musician from County Donegal, known for creating music under numerous aliases, most notably Sign Crushes Motorist, Dead Calm, and Take Care, exploring genres like slowcore and indie rock with poignant, introspective, and often melancholic themes, gaining significant online traction while maintaining a low-key, hobbyist approach to his rapidly growing career. He began with the fiddle, pivoted to guitar during the pandemic, and has since released extensive work, even turning down record deals to keep his creative process personal.

Repress incoming!

Following the success of two collaborative releases (EMC “The Show”/2008 and Ace & Edo G “Arts & Entertainment” /2009), Masta Ace joins forces with the metal faced MF Doom for Son of Yvonne, a highly personal concept album that celebrates the life and legacy of Ace’s recently departed Mother. Like his 2004 landmark Disposable Arts, Son of Yvonne is meticulously constructed with stories, settings, and characters that resonate with flesh and bone humanity. Interstitial vignettes provide a thematic backbone to the experience, and each track complements and completes the previous to form a narrative whole: a sometimes visceral, sometimes nostalgic slice of Ace’s young life in Brownsville, Brooklyn. Entirely underscored by MF Doom’s iconic Special Herbs instrumentals, Son of Yvonne features the Juice Crew general Big Daddy Kane, new comers Pav Bundy (The Bundies), Reggie B and even MF Doom on the mic. It’s Masta Ace’s no frills flow, however, that looms largest above the dusty samples and digger loops that define Doom’s production. Ace’s photo-realistic rhymes about stick-up kids, spraycan artists and wack emcees add extra gravity to his already celebrated reputation as “truly an under-appreciated rap veteran and underground luminary” (Allmusic Guide). Like Eminem recalls in his 2008 autobiography The Way I Am, “Masta Ace had amazing storytelling skills. His thoughts were so vivid.” TRACKLIST: A1. DJ Ski's Intro A2. Ninteen Seventy Something A3. Son Of Yvonne B1. Da Pro B2. Store Frontin B3. Me & My Gang B4. Crush Hour feat Pav Bundy C1. Think I Am feat Big Daddy Kane & Mf Doom C2. Fresh Fest Reggie B C3. Hoe-Tel-leftovers C4. Slow Down D1. Home Sweet Home feat Pav Bundy D2. Dedication D3. I Did It D4. In Da Spot feat Milani The Artis D5. Outtakes

Me Saco Un Ojo proudly presents the second full length album from Germany’s Teratoma.

Otherworldly atmospherics soon turn to visceral death metal as we begin our all-consuming descent into the bowels of the beast. Murky guitars churn around punchy bass lines and snappy drums. The old school death metal method, tried and tested, is delivered with crushing precision and monstrously snarled vocals to complete the mix. Building a strong rhythmic current to unleash a tidal wave of grooving, mid-tempo death metal offal; this is going to grip you with the rusted chains of pure viciousness. The crawling pace of the riffs ensures they are memorable, catchy even, for your ears to be wormed by chaotic bewilderment and perpetual anguish. The band warns you of the displeasures they inflict, so if you’re still here: that’s entirely your own doing. Still with us? Good, because this juggernaut of decay lumbers forward into more devastating territories, building wonderfully on the already strong debut album.

Slithering for over 45 minutes, this is a behemoth of death metal that will either destroy you or have you fully enveloped in its meaty mass for the duration. Plentiful clever grooves switch things up between the charnel atmospherics, so even the dullest mind will have its attention held. As each asphyxiating song creeps forth to swallow you, the void-like atmosphere continues swirling into itself and spitting out only the rotten remains of that which has crossed its path. From the whiplashing assaults to the slower moments of eerie decay, each moment has its own gruelling intensity to offer. There is no denying the sheer brute force in terms of the heaviness delivered here. Equally impressive is the totally harrowing ambience they conjure with these songs. Do not miss out on this ruthless slab of death, enter the festering realm of spewing atrocities…

From the cold North of Sweden, NORNA and LEGBITER deliver a six-track document of contrast, convergence, and uncompromising heavy music. Bringing together two distinct voices, the release explores the many shapes heaviness can take_stretching from crushing, slow-moving atmospheres to sharp, volatile bursts of aggression. Formed by musicians with deep roots in the European underground, Norna approach heaviness as a vehicle for emotional gravity. Their sound is expansive and deliberate, built on massive low-end, tectonic rhythms, and an acute sense of restraint. Legbiter approach heavy music as direct, confrontational, and unrelentingly physical. Rooted in hardcore and metal's most ferocious intersections, the band thrives on immediacy and impact. Legbiter compress time, delivering short, explosive bursts that hit with the force of a live wire. Their sound is lean, aggressive, and unapologetically raw. "Even though we sound very different sonically I think we all have a lot of common ground, not only in being parts of the 90's scenes, but also musically in the somewhat dissonant and harsh guitar parts", says Legbiter guitarist (Rickard Nordström. "Personally, I love splits with bands that don't sound exactly the same, but share some common traits and vibes." "Contrast is everything, we have always tried to flow between despair and beauty. Dynamics are important to us. This split will give you that contrast", comments Norna guitarist and vocalist and former Breach vocalist Tomas Liljedahl. FOR FANS OF Handsome * Quicksand * Fireside * Breach * Helmet * Superheaven * Narrowhead * Metz

What's the first thing you think of when someone mentions Thee Oh Sees? Probably their riot-sparking live show, right? Visions of a guitar-chewing, melody-maiming John Dwyer careening across your cranium, rounded out by a wild-eyed wrecking crew that drives every last hook home like it's a nail in the coffin of what you thought it meant to make 21st-century rock 'n' roll? Yeah, that sounds about right. But it misses a more important point-how impossible Thee Oh Sees have been to pin down since Dwyer launched the project in the late '90s as a solo break from such sorely missed underground bands as Pink and Brown and Coachwhips. (While Dwyer still records songs on his own, Thee Oh Sees is now a five-piece featuring keyboardist / singer Brigid Dawson, guitarist Petey Dammit, drummer Mike Shoun and multi-instrumentalist / singer Lars Finberg.) That restlessness extends to everything from the towering, thirteen-minute title track of 2010's Warm Smile LP to the mercurial moods of 2008's The Master's Bedroom Is Worth Spending a Night In. Now, Thee Oh Sees chase the home-brewed symphonies of Castlemania with the scrappy, high-wire hooks of Carrion Crawler / The Dream. Originally envisioned as two EPs, it was cut live to tape in less than a week at Chris Woodhouse's Sacramento studio in June, reflecting the battering-ram bent of the band's live show better than any bootleg ever could. "As I'm sure most would agree," explains Dwyer, "Castlemania was more of a vocal tirade. This one's meant to pummel and throb." That it does, whether one blasts the slow, speaker-bruising build of "The Dream," the sunburnt organs and dovetailing guitars of "Crack in Your Eye" or the interstellar instrumental "Chem-Farmer," a perfect example of what happens when one takes a well-oiled machine-a gang of rabid road warriors, really-and adds a second, groove-locked drum set to the mix. To listen is to realize that Dwyer's music is as manic as the underground comic inclinations of his artwork; colorful and confusing in a way that's more than welcome. It's downright refreshing, like a slap in the face at 5:00 in the morning. Or, as Dwyer puts it, "You have to leave a mark somehow."

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

"deathcrash’s third album, Somersaults, glimmers with an everyday euphoria. The London-based slowcore/ post-rock quartet has always had an affinity for building worlds only to crush them. From their breakout EP, People thought my windows were stars (2021), through two critically acclaimed studio albums, Return (2022) and Less (2023), they have been both the architects and the destroyers, the creationists and the ones manning the flood barrier. But, recorded between Black Box Studio in the Loire Valley and Haggerston’s Holy Mountain, Somersaults is almost joyful.

Its ten tracks are more vocal heavy than any of the band’s catalogue – think Mark Linkous via The Kinks – but lyrically, Somersaults resists revelation. For all its abrasion, phrases appear half-swallowed, broken off at the edge of meaning, consumed by the smaller textures of living. “Thirty, no career, it fucking worries me / And doing the band doesn’t help,” Banks sings in ‘NYC’. But, “This life is the best life,” he finishes in ‘CMC’ on top of the ambient white noise of an office printer, thankful that the band is still there, “still making noise in the doorway.”

Their role as caretakers of Duster, Low and Codeine’s slowcore lineage is all across Somersaults – songs scud to a narcotic crawl, sound monolithic and inwards before spotlighting a crystalline nothing. Cathartic builds are muddied with tenderness, the bass a heavy grounding, the drums an exhausted heartbeat grasping for air. But more so than ever, even the silence feels collaborative – a gesture of communal trust – friends celebrating the room they’ve made for each other’s ghosts, and some of the biggest, brightest songs they’ve made to date."

Two years after their debut on Berlin-based Mannequin Records, Parisian duo Leroy Se Meurt returns with their second full-length album, Hier Pour Toujours. Far from any sense of nostalgia, this record offers no illusion of hope—history repeats itself, the future looks bleak, and their brand of electronic punk is the perfect soundtrack to it all.Drum machines dictate the pace while synths saturate the space, looping sequences grind relentlessly, and vocals lead this machine orchestra straight into the heart of the chaos. Drawing from their roots, Leroy Se Meurt pushes their fierce electronics further than ever—experimenting with bold slogans, spoken passages, and powerful sing-along choruses.The album opens with Pas Ma Croix, a commanding anthem built for the stage. It flows into Du Plafond à La Terre, driven by a monstrous electro beat and bassline, flirting with emotional vulnerability in its chorus before exploding into a synth solo. Alevlere Karşı once again taps into the duo’s EBM-meets-Turkish vocals signature style, hitting the mark with dancefloor precision.The title track, Hier Pour Toujours, closes side A with a more intimate, drumless moment—solemn but no less intense.That brief calm is shattered by Déviance, marking the return of guitars and an eruptive chorus brimming with raw energy. From there, the album launches into the furious Révolte Ardente, with its syncopated rhythm and vocals drenched in distortion, and continues with Pro Déclin, a stripped-down rhythmic skeleton carrying anti-growth mantras straight to the point. In a world clouded by confusion, the most direct messages often land the hardest.For a change of scenery, Fütürsüz dives into John Carpenter-esque territory—no drums, eerie night-streaked synths, and, for the first time in the band’s history, nearly clean vocals.Closing the record, Encore crawls at a BPM so slow it’s nearly in reverse. But what it lacks in speed, it makes up for in weight—a crushing incantation capable of toppling sound systems.With Hier Pour Toujours, Leroy Se Meurt isn’t offering optimism, but rather persistence. Nothing is settled yet—and perhaps, just perhaps—there’s still light at the end of the tunnel.