Suche:something weird

In a blizzard of delirious sonics and twis’ up samples extracted from the annals of dancehall and ragga, Seekersinternational return to Sneaker Social Club to double down on the manifesto they laid out with the original RaggaPreservationSociety EP way back in 2016.

As ever, the SKRS magic lies in their ability to convey a deep affection and serious dedication for the source material while simultaneously getting shamelessly weird with it, taking the mutant tendencies of dancehall’s wildest instrumentals and injecting some added cosmic sauce into the mix. On this new record, they’re also embracing the volatile potential of junglist breaks - always intrinsically linked to Jamaican music at the point of inception, especially in the rough and ready daze of ragga jungle.

‘No Parasites (Lickshot)’ is a fierce mission statement, raining down mayhem without ever slipping into familiar modes - the emphasis is on the ragga, the jungle is there as a piquant flavour in the stew, but as ever the SKRS sound remains entirely out on its own. In contrast, ‘CaughtUp (HeartBreaks)’ almost edges closer to hardcore structures, but something keeps slipping in to run the interference, hovering just beyond perception for that all important woozy feeling.

‘2GoldChain (DriveUCrazy)’ is cut up enough to be another interstellar voyage, but here SKRS keep the music back in the mix and let a tapestry of chat lead out front as though capturing a casual street level chaos - bewildering and familiar in equal measure. ‘OriginaloftheOriginal’ completes the set with an earth-shattering script flip once more, coming on like square wave grime and half-speed breakbeat set to emotional stun. If it takes a minute to make sense, that’s because you’re hearing something entirely new.

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

Exclusive Bundle LP+7"-
Exclusive lim.Yellow Vinyl + 7” Black Vinyl including exclusive Bonus Track “Slimbo”.

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

TRANSPARENT PURPLE VINYL

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

Tape

If Songs of Praise was fuelled by pint-sloshing teenage vitriol, then Drunk Tank Pink delved into a different kind of intensity. Wading into uncharted musical waters, emboldened by their wit and earned cynicism, they created something with the abandon of a band who had nothing to lose. Having forced their way through their second album's identity crisis, they arrive, finally, at a place of hard-won maturity. Enter: Food for Worms, which Steen declares to be "the Lamborghini of shame records." It marks a sonic departure from anything they've done before, abandoning their post-punk beginnings for more eclectic influences, drawing from the tense atmospherics of

Merchandise, the sharp yet uncomplicated lyrics of Lou Reed and the more melodic works of 90s German band, Blumfeld For the first time, the band are not delving inwards, but seeking to capture the world around them. "I don't think you can be in your own head forever," says Steen. A conversation after one of their gigs with a friend prompted a stray thought that he held onto: "It's weird, isn't it? Popular music is always about love, heartbreak, or yourself. There isn't much about your mates." In many ways, the album is an ode to friendship, and a documentation of the dynamic that only five people who have grown up together - and grown so close, against all odds - can share

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” *click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” *click, click.

2023 Repress On Vertigo Days, the first album in seven years for The Notwist, one of Germany’s most iconic independent groups are alive to the possibilities of the moment. Their music has long been open-minded and exploratory, but from its engrossing structure, through its combination of melancholy pop, clangorous electronics, hypnotic Krautrock and driftwork ballads, to its international musical guests, Vertigo Days is both a new step for The Notwist, and a reminder of just how singular they’ve always been. Most importantly, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck are reaching out: as Markus reflects, “we wanted to question the concept of a band by adding other voices and ideas, other languages, and also question or blur the idea of national identity.”

It’s been seven years since The Notwist’s last album, Close To The Glass, and in that time the various members of the group have been busy with side projects (Spirit Fest, Hochzeitskapelle, Alien Ensemble, Joasihno), guest appearances, a record label (Alien Transistor), movie scoring, helping organise the Minna Miteru compilation of Japanese indie pop & running a festival (Alien Disko). Those divergent paths feed back into Vertigo Days in surprising ways, from its structure, built from group improvisations, with songs flowing and melting into one another in a collective haze, to its spirit, which feels refreshed and alive. There’s something cinematic about Vertigo Days too, reflective of the group’s time working on soundtracks, and reflected in the rich, moody photographic artwork by Lieko Shiga that adorns the cover.

The first sign of this newfound openness was the album’s lead single, “Ship”, where the group were joined by Saya of Japanese pop duo Tenniscoats, her disarmingly hymnal voice sighing over a propulsive, Krautrocking beat. Elsewhere, American multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay sings on “Oh Sweet Fire”, also contributing “a love lyric for these times, imagining two lovers in an uprising hand in hand.” American jazz clarinettist and composer Angel Bat Dawid adds clarinet to the spaced-out dream-pop of “Into The Ice Age”, while Argentinian electronica songwriter Juana Molina gifts some gorgeous singing and electronics to “Al Sur”. Saya also reappears as a member of Japanese brass band Zayaendo, who guest on the album. Throughout, The Notwist also capture the openness of their live performances, too, where they mix and link their songs in unexpected ways.

Indeed, what’s most impressive about Vertigo Days is the way it sits together as one long, flowing suite, the album conceptualised as a whole entity – it’s perfect for the long-distance, dedicated listening experience. This is also captured by the album’s lyrics, which Markus states, “feel more like one long poem.” The dimensions of that poem are multi-faceted, something intensified by the geopolitical weirdness of its times: “As the situation changed so dramatically, while we were working on the record, the theme of ‘the impossible can happen anytime,’ more about personal relationships in the beginning, became a global and political story.” But it also works at a level of poetic abstraction, such that each song gestures in multiple directions – the deeply private pans out to the global. The one certainty is that there is no certainty. “It’s maybe mostly about learning and how you never arrive anywhere,” Markus concurs. To sit within uncertainty is brave, but it’s also where we feel most alive, and Vertigo Days is an album that is brimming with life, with enthusiasm and love for music and for community, all wide-eyed and dreaming.

2023 Repress on Yellow Vinyl

On Vertigo Days, the first album in seven years for The Notwist, one of Germany’s most iconic independent groups are alive to the possibilities of the moment. Their music has long been open-minded and exploratory, but from its engrossing structure, through its combination of melancholy pop, clangorous electronics, hypnotic Krautrock and driftwork ballads, to its international musical guests, Vertigo Days is both a new step for The Notwist, and a reminder of just how singular they’ve always been. Most importantly, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck are reaching out: as Markus reflects, “we wanted to question the concept of a band by adding other voices and ideas, other languages, and also question or blur the idea of national identity.”

It’s been seven years since The Notwist’s last album, Close To The Glass, and in that time the various members of the group have been busy with side projects (Spirit Fest, Hochzeitskapelle, Alien Ensemble, Joasihno), guest appearances, a record label (Alien Transistor), movie scoring, helping organise the Minna Miteru compilation of Japanese indie pop & running a festival (Alien Disko). Those divergent paths feed back into Vertigo Days in surprising ways, from its structure, built from group improvisations, with songs flowing and melting into one another in a collective haze, to its spirit, which feels refreshed and alive. There’s something cinematic about Vertigo Days too, reflective of the group’s time working on soundtracks, and reflected in the rich, moody photographic artwork by Lieko Shiga that adorns the cover.

The first sign of this newfound openness was the album’s lead single, “Ship”, where the group were joined by Saya of Japanese pop duo Tenniscoats, her disarmingly hymnal voice sighing over a propulsive, Krautrocking beat. Elsewhere, American multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay sings on “Oh Sweet Fire”, also contributing “a love lyric for these times, imagining two lovers in an uprising hand in hand.” American jazz clarinettist and composer Angel Bat Dawid adds clarinet to the spaced-out dream-pop of “Into The Ice Age”, while Argentinian electronica songwriter Juana Molina gifts some gorgeous singing and electronics to “Al Sur”. Saya also reappears as a member of Japanese brass band Zayaendo, who guest on the album. Throughout, The Notwist also capture the openness of their live performances, too, where they mix and link their songs in unexpected ways.

Indeed, what’s most impressive about Vertigo Days is the way it sits together as one long, flowing suite, the album conceptualised as a whole entity – it’s perfect for the long-distance, dedicated listening experience. This is also captured by the album’s lyrics, which Markus states, “feel more like one long poem.” The dimensions of that poem are multi-faceted, something intensified by the geopolitical weirdness of its times: “As the situation changed so dramatically, while we were working on the record, the theme of ‘the impossible can happen anytime,’ more about personal relationships in the beginning, became a global and political story.” But it also works at a level of poetic abstraction, such that each song gestures in multiple directions – the deeply private pans out to the global. The one certainty is that there is no certainty. “It’s maybe mostly about learning and how you never arrive anywhere,” Markus concurs. To sit within uncertainty is brave, but it’s also where we feel most alive, and Vertigo Days is an album that is brimming with life, with enthusiasm and love for music and for community, all wide-eyed and dreaming.

If your new EP has already been getting dropped by top dogs like Upsammy, Batu, Call Super, Ben Ufo and Bruce, you know it's a winner. And that's exactly what Lurka's first release on his brand new Make Your On Meaning label is - four tracks of red hot and brilliantly weird minimal. 'Powers' is razor-sharp hi-hats cutting up a scintillatingly smooth and militant tech house groove. 'Re Speak' has jumbled percussion and more wonky rhythms while 'String' layers up toms, tin pot hits, clattering sound effects and an undulating liquid baseline into something super seductive. The closer 'Mystick Crystal' is the busiest of the lot with its densely layered sound fx and samples underpinned by minimal funk.

With One Day, Fucked Up have delivered one of the most energizing and intricate albums of their career, a massive-sounding record that arrives in deceptively small confines. The Canadian hardcore legends have been known for their epic scale in the past, so it might be a surprise that Fucked Up’s sixth studio album is their shortest to date, written and recorded in the confines of one literal day (hence the title). Don’t mistake size for substance, though: The band’s sound has only gotten bigger, more hard-charging, with even denser thickets of melody. “I wanted to see what I could record in literally one day.” That singular idea came to mind for guitarist Mike Haliechuk in the closing months of 2019. Haliechuk got himself into a studio and proceeded to write and record the record’s ten tracks over three eight-hour sessions, reconnecting with the core the band’s songwriting essence in the process. Initially, Fucked Up vocalist Damian Abraham was also set to complete his vocals in similar fashion—that is, before the lockdowns of 2020 took place. As it turns out, the isolation yielded creative dividends, as Abraham returned to contributing lyrics as well for the first time since 2014’s Glass Boys. “It almost felt like it might be the last time I’d ever get to record vocals for anything,” Abraham says of the stakes he felt while putting his part to tape, before reflecting on how he approached the lyrical process: “What do I want to say to friends who aren’t here anymore? What do I want to say to myself?” Over swarms of tuneful noise that evoke Sonic Youth circa Daydream Nation, Abraham lets loose on gentrification in “Lords of Kensington,” which was inspired by an “incredible” Toronto neighborhood that was regularly subject to life-ruining police surveillance and structural violence. “The police chief during that era he just opened a cannabis store,” Abraham explains. “It’s so cynical and gross, what society has come to but by being in a band, we’re culpable in changing the neighborhood, too, since the punk spaces and cool happenings that pop up are part of gentrification. Are you building a culture? Or are you ruining something that’s already been there?” Then there’s the dusky burn of “Cicada,” a sonic cousin to Dose Your Dreams’ excellent standout “The One I Want Will Come for Me” that features Haliechuk taking lead-vocal duty. The song is dedicated to lost friends, and in his words, it’s about “what life is like after you lose people, and our responsibility to carry them forward into the future, using the things they taught us as a light. I like to imagine the sound of cicadas as a metaphor for our strange life in the subculture we all just live these weird little hidden lives under the dirt, and then once in a generation, one of us gets to bust out of the dirt and intone their song so loud that it can be heard all over.” One Day is an undeniable work of confidence from a band that continues to operate at the top of their game, making music that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime and beyond.

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

LP is black vinyl + LP3 insert for full album Download. Check out the first 18 or so seconds of “Can I Ride”, the title track on the first release by Polvo, the two-guitar juggernaut that represented the other side of Chapel Hill indie rock (more on that in a moment). That two-note riff, and the guitar twang that follows, recalls the opening notes on another monster song: “The Sprawl”, a key track on Sonic Youth's epochal Daydream Nation, an album released in October 1988, less than two years before Polvo formed. This compilation's nine tunes—the first seven from the Can I Ride double 7” EP (1990), the last two from the “Vibracobra” b/w “The Drill” 7” (1991) are not quite the sound of a torch being passed, but they were a sign that Sonic Youth's weird tunings, the hardcore punk and proto-indie rock on SST Records, and R.E.M.'s hazy rock (three big influences on this era of Polvo) were changing lives. Even back then, the impossibly catchy roar from Merge’s flagship act Superchunk was known to outsiders as the sound of Chapel Hill. But Polvo was something different from the same region. While the band never cottoned to the “math rock” tag (and it’s hard to disagree with them), there is no question that there was a distinct “how can we make guitar rock sound different from all the other guitar rock” vibe going on in the mid-Atlantic, from Richmond (math rock’s true home, don’t @ me) to the North Carolina Triangle over to Louisville and down almost to Atlanta. (If the Mastodon dudes aren’t down with Polvo, I’ll eat your shoe.) No, Polvo were their own brand of squall, not afraid of big hooks (“Leaf ”), odd tempos and textures (“Lull”) and rolling thunder (“Totemic”), and answers to the musical question, “What if the Feelies grew up on Dinosaur Jr.?” (“Tread on Me”). Indie rock? Not the 2022 kind. Math rock? Eh, not really. This was the sound of a new Southern rock, of a pre-internet guitar storm that looked at what came before and said, “What's next?” Track listing: Side A 1. Can I Ride 2. Leaf 3. Lull 4. Totemic 5. Tread on Me. Side B. 6. Teen Dream 7. Snake Fist Fighter 8. Vibracobra 9. The Drill

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

Following the Kota Motomura and Exterior debuts earlier this year, it’s another first from Hobbes Music. Maastricht Research is a brand new project from Scottish artist Jonathan Hunter producing ambient/drone style material. Jonathan was part of the quartet behind the much-loved Slabs Of The Tabernacle parties at Glasgow's now-legendary La Cheetah club back in the late 00s/early 10s. He's also one half of The Three Lives, whose debut EP, Mud & Flame and follow-up Across & Beyond were released recently by Glasgow's Full Dose label.

Written and recorded over a number of years, whilst living in Amsterdam, Glasgow and Dublin, the Maastricht Research vibe is about as horizontal as it gets and is the perfect soundtrack to long, lazy days and balmy eves in the park, by the pool, in the bath etc! There are zero beats. It's proper ambient / drone music and could well have been beamed in from another dimension, planet or century altogether, including field recordings, atmospheric fx, lush and eerie pads, with the occasional snatch of a weird vocal and generally other-worldly sounds.

The record owes a debt to the likes of Manuel Gottsching, Cluster, Susumu Yokota, Detroit Escalator Company, Astral Industries and Alessandro Cortini, among others…

Mastered by Keith 'Radioactive Man' Tenniswood, Idle Animation will now be out at the end of October on extremely limited edition 12" vinyl, with CMYK printed labels, contained in a plain white sleeve with 3mm spine (reverse board for natural finish) including full colour artwork plus titles* printed using a Risograph on 135gsm ‘Context Natural’ A3 paper and finally all packaged in a polyurethane bag. *printed on the ‘Obi flap’ - excess paper folded around the spine.

"Loving it. Beautiful stuff here - all tracks doing it for me" ROLANDO (UR)

"This is great! Will use in on Ambient Flo" AUNTIE FLO

"Really diggin the MaastrichtResearch release" INTERGALACTIC GARY

"Love this, thanks for sending" DOMENIC (Sub Club)

"This sounds fantastic!" NICK CRADDOCK (Gateway To Zen)

"Really liking the sound of the record. Dublin air tugging on his emotive side by the sounds :)" JOHN HECKLE

"Mesmerizing music, something we all need to listen to because of so much chaos and stress in the world...with this, just sit back and zone out for a bit and regain balance...." DAN CURTIN

"This is nice music, thank you for sharing it with me. A3 is the one for me, really nice vibe" ARIO (Astral Industries)

"More emotive and soulful ambience and drone from this red hot label. Maastricht Research have been reviving the Poolside revellers at Pikes morning sessions this summer" DRIBBLER (Pikes, Café del Mar, Ibiza)

20 years of Tapete Records - Our first release, if memory serves, was in 2002. Damn, time flies so fast when you"re having fun. The world has changed a lot in the last 20 years but one detail has remained the same: We"re still putting out great music. That"s a bit reassuring, isn"t it? So we thought in our Tapete Building at Stahltwiete 10 in Hamburg-Altona: Let"s look back and start a series of good, old-fashioned, fantastic label compilations in the style of "Shadow Facory", "Tamla Motown Is Hot! Hot! Hot!" or "Wanna Buy A Bridge?"...something like that. And so here is "Intact & Smiling - The Weird & Wonderful World Of Tapete Records Vol.1". It wasn"t that easy to choose 28 out of about 5000 released songs, but what"s easy? Therefore a series. "Intact & Smiling Vol. 1" concentrates on the poppy side of Tapete Records, the basic tone is upbeat and uplifting. Can"t hurt these days. The title comes from the John Howard & The Night Mail song which says: "Intact and smiling, an independent soul, nobody"s slave". What could be more fitting? We would like to thank all the great artists who have released music with us over the last two decades, especially the bands and artists who have so kindly and unbureaucratically made available their great songs for this compilation. And of course a big thank you to you who listen to, buy and stream (well, yes) Tapete Records albums and songs. So close your eyes, open your ears, open your hearts, open up a bottle and step into The Weird & Wonderful World Of Tapete Records Vol. 1.

Pkew Pkew Pkew is looking on the bright side. As a band that lives and dies by touring, it’s been a while since they could say fuck it, we’re taking a year off to make something. That decision wasn’t entirely theirs, but 2020 handed them an opportuni-ty. Open Bar doesn’t navigate any of the tired pandemic tropes. Instead, Pkew is celebrating the things that make their lives awesome, even if those things suck sometimes. The band was forced to take a step back and use a slower approach. Mike Warne (guitars/vocals), Ryan McKinley (guitars/vocals), Emmett O’Reilly (bass/vocals) and David Laino (drums) bounced song ideas off Craig Finn of The Hold Steady, and went into the studio with Jon Drew, who produced their first album. “Since we didn’t have a hard deadline to finish, we felt a lot more freedom to take our time and mess around in the studio. Jon is the kind of producer that is down to try anything, so we had lots of fun playing with trumpets, old moog synths, glockenspiels,” says Warne. In a weird year, the familiar Pkew themes—navigating life’s small daily troubles with a sardonic grin and your friends by your side—are comforting, nostalgic. The result is tight, rowdy modern punk with the heart and soul of classic rock. It’s cracking a beer in the park, plugging in the AUX cord on a summer road trip, cramming into a sweaty bar with your friends and a million strangers.

Purple Vinyl in PicCover

"Since it's inception, the various artist compilation series SATURATED! has proven to be the epitome of curation in this small niche scene called bass music or whatever.
Each volume is carefully hand picked and is a picture in sound of the music at that point in time but overall has proven to be timeless.
The arrangement works in such ways that each tune flows perfectly into the next one and actually (given that you have two vinyls like a real dj), you could mix seamlessly from the first through the last track.

Saturate Records has become a hotspot for those seeking fresh sounds from well known and emerging artists within the scene.
Channeling the quintessential stylings of low-end driven beats from across the globe, they have been leading the way in all things bass heavy, broken-beat, experimental, glitch, hip-hop, psychedelic and trap for years now. Having featured releases from names like heRobust and G Jones early on in their careers, SATURATE! continues to help push the new school, hip-hop influenced sound forward with their fingers firmly on the pulse of future freshness.
A weird, wonky and wonderful journey through the raw attitude of the blistering beat driven electronic music scene.

Drift, their fifth studio album sees PIANOS BECOME THE TEETH taking
another sonic step forward to craft a musical statement that truly
transcends genres
For the recording of Drift, the band took it back to basics, starting at a familyowned cabin in the woods of Virginia, that they transformed into an analog
recording studio. The band lived together, recorded together and ate dinners
together where they would listen to the day's recordings, talk about them and pull
them apart and reworking them, creating what may be their finest album to date.
Per front man Kyle Durfey, "Something that we really took away from this
experience was just the connection we had together. We produced the record
ourselves with our longtime friend/ collaborator/ engineer Kevin Bernsten who
recorded our first two records." The recordings that the band created using
innovative recording techniques, recording 100% analog are sonically transportive
and certain to mystify and inspire generations of recording artists. All the echoes
were made with old echoplexes and tape delay, which made for a really organic
record. With Bersten's help the band was able to take some of the weirder and
more ambitious ideas they had and turned them into reality making this a
fantastic album for immersive headphone listening.

Wonky noir specialist, Kercha, is back with five spun-out cuts, merging dubstep, jazz, garage, techno and a whole lot of weird.

‘Disarray’ is as discombobulating as its title suggests, a slinky beat hidden among umpteen odds and ends from Kercha’s cabinet of curiosities. A subby wiggle here, a far-off siren there, the warm tinkling of a Fender Rhodes, and was that someone falling down the stairs? Our only constant allies are a vaguely disturbing vocal and a bass clarinet that’s definitely up to no good.

‘Witness’ employs a similar palette but switches tactics, stripping back to the basics as faint whispers and the ever-growing presence of a whirring alarm suggest something dangerous might be lurking around the corner.

‘Conjugate’ is more direct, the percussion elevated from its usual backseat as thudding kicks and taught snares make their presence felt among the digi-dub wobbles — a theme repeated on digital bonus track ‘New World’, though there, jagged mid-bass lines provide an extra dollop of screwface-inciting muck.

And bringing this leg of DNO’s journey to a close is ‘Long Way’, which rumbles along like a lonely night train, its chugging bassline matched with eerie engine whistles, the rhythmic clink of a cowbell and, somewhere deep in the mix, the familiar clickety-clack of tracks.

Weaving together disparate worlds like some interdimensional architect, Kercha simultaneously places us among the inebriated haze and freewheeling expression of a basement jazz club, and the 10-tonne rhythms that have fuelled DNO’s parent party The Mine for the past decade, and will continue to do so into the future.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

Calibre - "I first came across Adam's work via a remix I did of 'She Rocks, I Roll' back in 2019, the vibe was melancholic and leaned toward my own bluesy take on things. When 'Dissolve In The Rain' hit my inbox, I instantly connected with the guitar and vocal, in particular the lyrics, and felt it could be merged with a piano idea that I had. Merging these worlds created an arrangement for two sections; a lyrical passage that leads to harmonised vocals, and then an improvised and layered section, accentuated by Adam's lyric and guitar. It was a real pleasure to watch it almost make itself. The worlds combined lead to something nostalgic but new, it's a wonderful meeting of musical minds."

Chelou - "From a weird set of demos that I sent him around four years ago, Calibre picked the most obscure, and that's when I knew he got it! The idea that an artist like him heard something in my acoustic music that sparked him to transform it into a track like this, has blown me away. The piano and harrowing pace is something that I would have never created, it's fucking gold."