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Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.



Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.



Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”



But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.



The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.



“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.



Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.



Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Devendra Banhart's 3rd and 4th albums, originally released yb Young God, together as a 2xLP

Dame-Music continues to celebrate its 15 Years with the release of Vol. 2
15 Years Of Dame-Music series is an ode to the unmistakable sound of the TB-303, a core element of Bloody Mary's widely respected sound and label.
Continuing the strong momentum from Vol. 1, this release features four standout tracks from some of the most respected and forward-thinking names in electronic music: DEAS, Ben Sims & Ritzi Lee, Viikatory, and the highly anticipated return of Jerome Hill vs Fear-E to the Dame-Music roster.
Spanning three curated volumes, the “15 Years of Dame-Music” series highlights the label’s enduring commitment to underground dance music culture and its dedication to vinyl and analog sound.

"Chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams..."

December 25th, 2023 - an Instagram post. Stimulator Jones shared half a dozen FIRE tracks from his beat tape archive. We were immediately drawn to the rough hewn boom bap.

"I'd release that", Rob commented.

Hours of material was shared and the result is this: Cool Green Trees (1999-2005). A collection of beats and loops Stimulator Jones created between the ages of 14-20 at home in his basement, bedroom and computer room in Roanoke, Virginia.

You will not believe the profound soulful genius contained within these naive schoolboy melodies.

December 25th, 1998 - 25 years ago to the day and his much-coveted Yamaha SU10 sampler was finally bestowed upon young Stimmy AKA Sam Lunsford: "I immediately hooked up a CD Walkman to the input jack and looped the beginning two bars of Grover Washington Jr.'s "Mercy Mercy Me". I don't know what exactly was so thrilling about hearing two measures of music repeating over and over but it was so infectious and hypnotizing and enthralling to me. I'll never forget that ecstatic rush of making my first loop - an uncontrollable, gleeful smile plastered all over my face." When you hear the pocket breakbeat symphonies featured here on Cool Green Trees, you'll feel the same sense of frisson.

In the wake of his Stones Throw breakthrough - Exotic Worlds & Master Treasures - Stimulator Jones was pegged by many as a 90s throwback artist. However, he literally IS a 90s artist. He's been recording music most of his life and he's now 40. He created the bulk of Cool Green Trees as a teenager. Everything before 2004 was recorded when Sam was still in school. He was in 8th grade when he made the 1999 tracks - he didn't even have his learner's permit. This album is a snapshot of a young man in a simpler time. Things were still mysterious back then and he was flying blind, relying on his ears and having to figure things out for himself: "I had no road map for becoming a beatmaker. I have been collecting music since I was a kid, I am a lifelong digger and seeker of cool and interesting sounds. I was there in the golden age of Hip Hop, and while I may have been a suburban white kid in Roanoke, Virginia, I was tuned in and I bought so many classic albums when they came out. I was attracted to Hip Hop because of the musical and poetic quality. I was hypnotized by the rhythms, partially because I was a drummer. I didn't brag about collecting my breakbeat records or making beats - it was something I did in isolation. It wasn't something I generally wanted to bring attention to and it didn't really score me any cool points. I certainly wasn't flexing on social media about it."

Hell, he can do that now!

Opener "Pharoah Jones" was inspired by Yesterday's New Quintet and Madlib's ability to capture that classic 70s sound whilst playing all the instruments. Sam created this one stoned afternoon by laying down a 2 bar loop and a shaker loop on his Yamaha SU700 sampler. He hung a microphone from the ceiling and played his Yamaha Stage Custom drum kit over the top before adding ender Rhodes and playing his dad's Selmer tenor sax through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. Yes! Up next, "Ghost Gospel" utilises a dope loop from a gospel record and adds some soul-funk drums overtop, whilst working that filter knob. Says Sam: "The loop reminded me of something Ghostface would rap over. The sample was in 3/4 waltz time but I flipped it for a 4/4 groove, a technique I picked up from RZA. "Ill Feeling" uses sped-up pieces from a dusty old funk record and putting them over a classic NOLA drum loop; gain chopping up a slow, bluesy 3/4 time signature and bending it to a 4/4 groove. Classy shit. "Capital Punishment" features drums tapped in live, inspired by MF Doom's Special Herbs series. "Do Not Adjust" consists loops found on a compilation of 70s French music at Happy's Flea Market, a classic Roanoke digging spot.

The sublime, evocative title track, "Cool Green Trees" was created when Sam was still living at home. He dumped samples off his SU10 into the family desktop and arranged them in a demo version of Pro Tools: "This track was sort of my ode to the DJ Shadow style of sample based production. Super spacey, slow, and moody. The heavily filtered drums were inspired by Alec Empire's 'Low on Ice' album. I later added some scratches and sounds from a Spider Man storybook record." "Chill Scratch" snags the final bit of a bossanova record and pairs it with a drum loop before adding experimental scratching run through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. "Poisonous Fumes" was made using a sampler, mixer and a turntable; a kind of mixtape beat collage with added scratches and sounds from various records. Using dialogue from superhero records was a nod to Madlib. "Welcome Aboard The Starship" is dark, downtempo trip-hop with a spooky bent. Sam paired a slow, hard drum loop with a guitar sample grabbed off a psychedelic rock record. To finish, he added various backwards sounds and weird atmospheric effects and a little scratching. Swoon.

Side B opens with "Keep On Runnin", made on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler. Having always loved the sound of the Lo-Fi filter on those machines, reminiscent of the Emu SP1200, Sam always imagined Del or another of the Hieroglyphics crew rapping over this beat. You can certainly hear why. "Sounds Impossible" sees Sam experimenting with layering multiple kick samples at different volumes to create patterns similar to those heard by Showbiz and Lord Finesse during their God-level 1995 period. "Painted Faces" was made by chopping up a REDACTED record which he had gotten from Happy's Flea Market and paired it with a REDACTED drum loop. By the time Sam recorded "The Knew Style", he had acquired a shitty old 1960s portable turntable off eBay. It didn't function properly when he bought it but his brother opened it up, cleaned it out and got it working: "I remember he told me that there was a bunch of sand inside of it when he opened it up, as if its previous owner had taken it to the beach. I would take that turntable on my Happy's Flea Market digs so I could preview records...that's how I found this loop."

"Chicken Wing Blues Sauce" loops up a classic blues joint and pairs it with some REDACTED drums. A bit of filtering and arranging et voilà! "Kool Breeze", from 1999, is one of Sam's oldest surviving beats, as is "Sexx Bullets". The Roots sampled the same record, leaving Sam frustrated yet vindicated. "Soul Child" was an early SU10 creation, looping a dusty old Soul Children 45 and pairing it with 70s rock drum loops to great effect. "Take Off Runnin" was another loop found digging with a portable turntable. Paired with some boom bap drums it makes for a hypnotic head-nod groove. "Centurian" was intended to be a little beat interlude a la Pete Rock. The sample is from a sun-dappled soft-psych record and it's paired with a Robin Trower drum loop that just happens to fit perfectly. Sometimes you slap things together kind of haphazardly and magic happens. "Bozack" was the first beat Sam made using Pro Tools, his first foray into using chopped sounds instead of loops, an exciting new world. "Church" is beat interlude using a Phil Upchurch loop with the "Long Red" drums - a favourite break of Dilla et al. Sam was really on a tear in late 2004, probably because he was unemployed and phoneless and able to just make beats all day. He made "Splash One" on a borrowed Yamaha SU700 and again was experimenting with tapping the drums in live with his fingers, instead of using a loop or sequenced pattern. Channeling 9th Wonder, Sam used a water splash sound effect from a Batman record as a percussive element, hence the title (also a 13th Floor Elevators reference). The main loop is a backwards portion of one of his favourite Roy Ayers songs.

"Hank" is another fun little beat interlude thing, created on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler with the fantastic Lo-Fi effect that resembled the Emu SP1200 at a fraction of the price. "73 goatee", from 99, is another of his oldest surviving beats, created in his bedroom with his Yamaha SU10 and his brother's Vestax MR-300 4-track recorder: "This one will always feel special. I can remember having a feeling all the way back then on the night that I created it that this was a solid beat with a catchy loop. There was something in the Fender Rhodes melody that resonated with me emotionally, and I had never heard a producer sample that portion before. I felt like I had found my own unique sound, my own unique loop. It came from an Ahmad Jamal '73. I actually even recorded myself rapping and scratching over this beat way back then, I still have that version in all its imperfect sloppy glory."

Sam explains just how much these tracks mean to him: "They all have immense historical and sentimental value and I'm proud of them. These beats come from an innocent, simple time when I was just figuring out how to craft these sounds. They're something very personal to me. They are the initial part of a journey that I really was taking *alone*. There was no YouTube. I couldn't Google shit. I didn't even know any other beatmakers, producers or DJs in my town that could teach me anything. It was always just me, alone, in a room with some equipment - chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams. What I was doing wasn't cool. Most of my peers thought I was a weirdo and couldn't care less. Creating these sounds was an anti-social endeavour. In a sense, I felt like it was me against the world, and all I had to instruct and assist me were the recordings produced by my heroes - RZA, DJ Premier, Erick Sermon, Beatminerz, Showbiz, Diamond D, Beatnuts, Prince Paul, The Bomb Squad, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, E-Swift, Mista Lawnge, DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist, Peanut Butter Wolf, El-P and so many more...I dedicate this collection to them, and to my older brother Joe who has always been a musical and technical guiding light for me.

This was a time before every kid was a self-described producer and beatmaker, before everyone had a DAW, before Kanye and "chipmunk soul", before Red Bull beat battles, before there was any social media beyond chat rooms and AOL Instant Messenger, before Soundcloud, before SP-404 mania, before lo-fi beats to study to, before Splice, before targeted ads for MIDI chord packs, etc. In 99 when I told people that I had a sampler and made beats I was mostly met with bewildered confusion and indifference. Kids and adults alike would wonder why I got this weird machine for Christmas instead of something worthwhile like a Playstation or a mountain bike or even a guitar for that matter because at least that could be used to make "real music". Back then, sampling was still not widely respected as an art form - it was seen as lazy, talentless and unoriginal at best and outright criminal theft at worst. I had gotten respect for playing drums and guitar and things of that nature but this was a step in the wrong direction in the eyes of many."

The cover photo is a picture of Sam standing on his back porch in the latter part of 1998, just before he got his first sampler. He was 13 years old, in 8th grade. His dad took the picture with his 35mm film camera: "I actually wanted to be pointing my dad's .22 pistol at the camera lens but he wouldn't let me. He gave me an old walking cane to use instead. The Tommy Hilfiger puffer jacket came from the lost and found at William Fleming High School where my mom worked as a secretary. I was thrilled when she brought it home because we never spent money on expensive name brand clothing like that - we were for the most part strictly a sale rack, bargain bin, thrift store, yard sale, flea market kind of family when it came to clothes. My watch is some cheap off-brand fake gold department store watch." Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

Sie maschen's noch einmal. THE SOUND OF MONEY mit "Two: Rhyme On". Die Band aus dem Münchner Pop-Underground - genauer: mit Albert Pöschl, direkt aus dem Kern des faszinierenden Echokammer Labels, Claudia Kaiser, ex-Moulinettes, mit der aparten Stimme, die an eine Münchener Nico ohne den Drogen BS erinnert und Martin Lickleder, der für Wortakrobatik, Referenzspielereien und flotte Discostreicher berüchtigt ist - mit der Weiterführung ihres spielerischen, nicht minder faszinierenden Konzeptes: An Anagrammatical Exorcism of the 70s. Sie nahmen die Titel ihrer 12 Lieblingsalben aus den 70ern als DNA - und schüttelten die Buchstaben kräftig durch! Heraus kamen 12 neue Titel, für neue Songs. Im Jahr 2017, auf ihrem Album MORE? WHY NOT! haben sie das Gleiche mit den 60ern gemacht. Jetzt toppen sie den Spaß sogar noch. Kurz zurückgespult, 2017: Pu?nktlich zum 50-ja?hrigen Jubila?um des Summer of Love 1967 pra?sentieren The Sound of Money 2017 ihre Konzeptplatte "More? WHY NOT! - AN ANAGRAMMATIC EXORCISM OF THE 60S". Dazu stellen sie die Titel von 12 ihrer Lieblingsplatten aus diesem Pop-Ur-Jahrzehnt zu Anagrammen um - und schwuppdiwupp hatten sie 12 Titel fu?r ganz neue Songs: Aus "Pet Sounds" wurde "Nude Spots", aus "Piper At the Gates of Dawn" wurde "Tiger T - Death Happens to a Few", aus Bobbie Gentry's "The Delta Sweete" wurde "Let's Eat The Weed",... 2025: Geradezu u?berpu?nktlich vor dem 50-ja?hrigen Punk-Jubila?um sind sie wieder zur Stelle: Am 23.5. wird, wieder über das Hamburger BB*ISLAND Label "TWO: RHYME ON - AN ANAGRAMMATIC EXORCISM OF THE 70s" erscheinen - mit Anagrammen von David Bowie bis Chic, von Nico bis Slits, von Bob Marley bis Kraftwerk. Beispiel? Aus "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars" wird "Dr. Dr. Themefart, Frustrating Himself, Posed as Gay Old Nazi SS".Exodus von Bob Marley wird zu Sex Duo. (Die beiden songs sind schon mal als Singles / videos veröffentlicht ) Und wie die Titel-Buchstaben haben sich auch Musik und Text zu einem schillernden, grotesken Kaleidoskop klassischer 70s-Popstile zurechtgeschu?ttelt: Landwirtschafts-P-Funk, Finanzcasino-Gospel- Disco, Anti-Pogo-Postpunk, zweifelnder Heimcomputer-Dub-Jazz, der gesamte Bowie in dreinhalb Minuten ru?ckwa?rts ... Nicht nur Live eine Wilde-Maus-Fahrt des Pop-Glam in Mu?nchner Underground-Allstar-Besetzung: CLAUDIA KAISER: Gitarre, Bass, Gesang ALBERT PO?SCHL: Bass, Gitarre, Gesang MARTIN LICKLEDER: Geige, Mundharmonika, Gesang TOM WU: Schlagzeug FRANZISKA ERDLE: Percussion SVENJA PFEIFER: Keyboards, Gesang

1000 copies pressed on Black vinyl & DL card. First time on vinyl for 10 years .The poems of iconic 19th century American writer Emily Dickinson crafted into the esoteric sounds of Josephine Foster. Originally released in 2009, this highly collectable record is now back on vinyl for the first time in over a decade.

'Atmospheric death metal'. Three simple words to describe one's music, chosen by JADE mainman J. himself, although they don't seem to quite pay justice to the gigantic scope of their music. Because ever since the release of their debut demo back in 2018 they've proven again and again to be more. Much more. Historically speaking, the word 'jade' referred to a rare but valuable mineral in ancient times all over the world. From Mesoamerican cultures to Chinese and Southern Asian ones, the greenstone was conferred with deep spiritual symbolism and used to connect the earthly level to the unknown. The history of countless traditions, legends and cults remain as an endless source of topics in terms of lyrics for the band, with a rich historical narrative also poetized. JADE's music is described by J. as "a tribute to the timeless obscure metal language, from early death/doom manifestations to later atmospheric black acts, in a really heavy, intense and epic form which transcends ages, as the greenstone cult has endured." The sophomore album, and second full-length after last year split LP with SANCTUARIUM, Mysteries Of A Flowery Dream carries an ominous wave of darkness, redefining heaviness with new levels of musical production and arrangements, compared by J. to "a journey into the dialogue between conscious and subconscious dreaming states and the mysteries around." The album's lyrics are in direct line of those themes, echoing the celestial world and how it can help us overcoming ominous times ("The Stars' Shelter"), how dreams can be interpreted as omens ("Light's Blood") and how they allow us to travel the Mayan cosmovision and its various worlds for guidance, healing and messages ("Shores Of Otherness"), among others. You can even find on the cover artwork elements of the ancient Mesoamerican cosmovision, mainly the powerful moon goddess Ixchel, a creative yet destructive entity, portrayed here as the Spider and threading human fate like an umbilical cord, determined to give life but also to destroy it if needed. A frightening, fragile yet utterly fascinating balance perfectly illustrated by Mysteries Of A Flowery Dream.

"A powder keg of bangers primed to shake the rat race to its core" - The Guardian Australia (Best of 2023) "Simultaneously chaotic and precise, no matter whether the palette is fierce rap, punk energy or slinking beats." - Rolling Stone Australia (Best of 2023) London/Melbourne rap duo Teether & Kuya Neil release their long-awaited debut album YEARN IV. YEARN IV captures the brooding and vivid world of two musical outsiders. Raised by the internet, the pair find their voice amid a sea of clashing cultural experiences and sonic histories, finding solace in the isolation of contemporary urban Australia. Recorded in Melbourne and completed in London, the album captures the duo's hyper local yet globally influenced rap sound at its core. Kuya Neil's drum heavy production collides with Teether's surreal and immersive storytelling, blending thrash metal and club music aesthetics with the echoes of the early internet. Lead single `ZOO' plays with the silent throes of cultural diversity over a paranoid trap instrumental, 'BLUSH' is a blissed out digital love letter wuth shimmering autotuned hooks and rave inspired breaks. `CHANEL' (featuring Indigenous Australian songwriter Alice Skye) is a guitar driven lament for Australia's myopic cultural landscape, fading out with "I'll never reach my full potential here". Teether & Kuya Neil released their first mixtape GLYPH via Chapter in 2021, receiving airplay from NTS, Dublab and Australian radio, plus writeups via Brooklyn Vegan and NME. Four tracks from `GLYPH' were featured in the iconic Australian Netflix series 'Heartbreak High' the following year. 2023 mixtape STRESSOR charted in the Australian Independent Top 10 and made it into end of year best of lists for The Guardian, Rolling Stone and NME Australia. The mixtape was nominated for Best Hip Hop Album at the 2024 Australian Independent Music Awards and named Album of the Week by 3RRR and fBI Radio. Teether & Kuya Neil have performed around Australia and New Zealand. They have played alongside international peers MC Yallah & Debmaster and They Hate Change as well as supported veteran alt-rap outfit Shabazz Palaces and Chicago Footwork pioneer RP Boo. As a solo artist, Teether has collaborated with New York rapper Billy Woods and toured with his outfit Armand Hammer in Australia in 2022. In 2024, he opened for the legendary Kim Gordon. Kuya Neil is an active producer in underground dance music, releasing tracks on UK labels Chinabot and Moveltraxx and has toured South East Asia as a DJ and promoter.

FIRE UP: Fifteen successful releases later, Anetha continues to fan the flames with MTY-FEU, an incandescent new compilation. Titled «Ils s’embrasèrent, réduits ensemble», the release stands for fusion and oneness.



Bursting from the depths of the earth, magma is devouring: melting hot techno, deep techno, fast techno, firestorms of trance, eruptions of hard groove, break, mental, smoldering experimental… MTY-FEU is a lava flow of boiling, vital energy, unstoppable and full of blistering textures.



During the Nuit Blanche (A1), we surrender. We, the offer. Our fire is combusting. Our feet, stomping.
Berserk, in a fury, there’s No End (C1) to this party. In a trance, Eternal Echoes (E2) beguiles us all, until we become one into the Molten Core (H2) of Inferno. Ils s’embrasèrent, réduits ensemble.

The incredibly talented visual artist FEMUR crafted the artwork by creating an AI-generated meta-crackle of fire. Diplomatie Studio handled the design while mastering was entrusted to Sixbitdeep, except for Anetha’s edit, where mix and mastering credits go to Le Dom. We’ve opted for bio-vinyls for this release, knowing that one day these records will return to ashes, only to rise again, like the phoenix.

Nachdem es drei Demos und ein Split-Album mit vier gleichgesinnten Acts aufgenommen hatte, veröffentlichte das Quartett sein Debütalbum "Handed to Execution", auf das ein Jahr später die EP "Transylvanian Nightmare" folgte. Während beide von Kritikern und Fans gleichermaßen gut aufgenommen wurden, legen Phantom jetzt mit ihrem zweiten Album "Tyrants of Wrath" noch einen drauf. Die neue Platte ist eine Parforceritt durch die geschätzten Traditionen des Genres - man denke an Razor, Dark Angel, Merciless, Living Death und natürlich Slayer als Referenzen - und verleiht ihnen einen frischen Dreh, sei es in Form von ‚Nimbus', einer Hommage an Phantoms Einflüssen von Kultbands wie Manilla Road, Gotham City und Heavy Load, oder in Bezug auf die abenteuerliche Struktur von ‚Nazguhl', einem von vielen Ausflügen ins Unkonventionelle, die den extremen Metal der Mexiakner überraschenderweise nicht kompromittieren. "Tyrants of Wrath" wurde von der Band und Héctor Northen in den Nehtron Studios in Mexiko aufgenommen und abgemischt. Das Mastering übernahm Patrick Engel im Temple of Disharmony in Deutschland. Phantom touren im September/Oktober 2025 mit den Brasilianern Evilcult durch Europa.

Nachdem es drei Demos und ein Split-Album mit vier gleichgesinnten Acts aufgenommen hatte, veröffentlichte das Quartett sein Debütalbum "Handed to Execution", auf das ein Jahr später die EP "Transylvanian Nightmare" folgte. Während beide von Kritikern und Fans gleichermaßen gut aufgenommen wurden, legen Phantom jetzt mit ihrem zweiten Album "Tyrants of Wrath" noch einen drauf. Die neue Platte ist eine Parforceritt durch die geschätzten Traditionen des Genres - man denke an Razor, Dark Angel, Merciless, Living Death und natürlich Slayer als Referenzen - und verleiht ihnen einen frischen Dreh, sei es in Form von ‚Nimbus', einer Hommage an Phantoms Einflüssen von Kultbands wie Manilla Road, Gotham City und Heavy Load, oder in Bezug auf die abenteuerliche Struktur von ‚Nazguhl', einem von vielen Ausflügen ins Unkonventionelle, die den extremen Metal der Mexiakner überraschenderweise nicht kompromittieren. "Tyrants of Wrath" wurde von der Band und Héctor Northen in den Nehtron Studios in Mexiko aufgenommen und abgemischt. Das Mastering übernahm Patrick Engel im Temple of Disharmony in Deutschland. Phantom touren im September/Oktober 2025 mit den Brasilianern Evilcult durch Europa.

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

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

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

In den letzten 24 Jahren war Tunde Adebimpe vor allem als Mitbegründer, Co-Sänger und Hauptkomponist von TV On The Radio bekannt. Die mehrheitlich schwarze Art-Rock-Band überstand zwei Jahrzehnte des unbeständigen kulturellen Wandels und wurde zu einer der beliebtesten, beständigsten und einflussreichsten Gruppen der New Yorker Rockszene der frühen 2000er Jahre. Obwohl Tundes poetisches Songwriting und seine überragende Stimme im Mittelpunkt von TV On The Radio stehen, wird die Band immer eine Zusammenarbeit zwischen einer Gruppe von Musikern sein. Tundes persönliche Geschichte verläuft parallel dazu, er ist eine Art kreativer Polymath. Er ist Musiker, aber auch Illustrator und Maler. Er ist ein ehemaliger Animator und Stop-Motion-Filmemacher (Celebrity Deathmatch). Er ist ein Fernseh- und Filmschauspieler, mit Rollen in Jump Tomorrow (2001), Rachel Getting Married (2008), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Twisters (2024) und Star Wars: Skeleton Crew (2024). Und jetzt ist er auch ein Solokünstler, mit seinem allerersten Soloalbum, "Thee Black Boltz". Das Album wurde von Tunde Abebimpe & Wilder Zoby produziert, mit Zoby als ausführender Produzent, mit zusätzlicher Produktion und Beiträgen von Jaleel Bunton & Jahphet Landis (von TV On The Radio) und anderen. Tunde hatte die Idee zu diesem Album im Jahr 2019, als TV On The Radio eine Pause einlegten. Zwei Jahre später, als sich die Welt von der Covid-Pandemie erholte, begann er ein Notizbuch mit Worten, Illustrationen und Ideen zu erstellen, das er als "Mixtape der Emotionen, die die Musik hervorrufen könnte. Eine Art Gefühlskarte" bezeichnet. Auf diese Weise beginnt Tunde die meisten seiner Projekte, und 2021 begann er, diese Ideen mit Hilfe des Multiinstrumentalisten Wilder Zoby (Run The Jewels), mit dem er sich in Los Angeles ein Studio teilt, in Musik umzusetzen. "Thee Black Boltz" ist kein TV On The Radio-Album. Aber die Aufregung, etwas alleine zu machen, entfachte in Tunde einen ähnlichen Funken wie in den frühen TV On The Radio-Tagen. Der Songwriting-Prozess ist derselbe, aber ohne seine TVOTR-Bandkollegen hatte Tunde "nicht dieses Gerüst, an dem er sich festhalten konnte. Das war sowohl beängstigend als auch aufregend". Das Herzstück des Albums ist sein Titel, eine Anspielung auf Tundes Neigung, über den Zustand des Menschen zu schreiben und zu singen, in all seinen Formen, unter all seinen großen und kleinen Stressfaktoren. Es ist seine Antwort auf das makroökonomische Unbehagen einer Welt nach der Pandemie, die sich auf einen gewalttätigen Autoritarismus zubewegt, und auf die persönliche Trauer, die durch den Verlust der letzten Jahre entstanden ist, insbesondere durch den plötzlichen Tod seiner jüngeren Schwester während der Aufnahmen zu diesem Album. "Thee Black Boltz" ist Tunde's verzweifeltes Festhalten an kleinen Momenten der Freude inmitten der Dissonanz und Traurigkeit, auf jede erdenkliche Weise. "Es war meine Art, mir einen Felsen oder eine Plattform inmitten dieses verdammten Ozeans zu bauen." Tunde schreibt in sein Notizbuch: "Die Funken der Inspiration/Motivation/Hoffnung, die inmitten von (und manchmal als Ergebnis von) tiefem Kummer, Depression oder Verzweiflung aufblitzen. Wie Elektronen, die sich in Gewitterwolken ansammeln und zusammenstoßen, bis sie einen Blitz abfeuern und einen Ausweg erhellen, wenn auch nur für eine Sekunde." Er fügt hinzu: "Außerdem ist es ein guter Name für eine coole Metal-Band, und ich denke, dass die meisten Leute mich als eine sehr coole Metal-Band bezeichnen würden."

LP 1 is Original Reissue, LP 2 is the Instrumentals. This album, originally released in 2019, was highly lauded with esteemed praise, topping many Album Of The Year lists inlcuding NPR, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Time Magazine. This vinyl has been out of print and in high demand, repress is restricted to limited quantities and will be out of print again in under a year. Now includes a 2nd LP featuring the never before available Hiding Places instrumentals from Kenny Segal. Fully produced by Kenny Segal, (Project Blowed, Kenstrumentals beat tape Series, Happy Little Trees). LP has unique gatefold artwork by Myra Musgrove and features custom “oakwood” coloured vinyls. Hiding Places is a collaborative album from Brooklyn-based rapper billy woods and Los Angeles beat scene veteran Kenny Segal. As a label, we at Backwoodz take a lot of pride in our physical products; in creating original artwork that will stand the test of time, and in issuing limited-pressings that stay limited. We had always resisted repressing a piece of vinyl and even when the demand for Hiding Places built to a fever pitch during 2019, we stuck to our guns. Still, by the end of the year, as the AOTY nominations kept rolling in, we knew that we needed to do something. But we also were determined not to sacrifice the uniqueness of that first pressing. So we decided to commission all-new artwork, and press up the instrumentals as well and put it all together as a GATEFOLD 2XLP. So, on top of the best album of 2019, you get Kenny’s incredible instrumentals, available on wax for the first time! On its face, it seemed an unlikely pairing; woods who moonlights as ½ of dissonant rap duo Armand Hammer is a chaotic force, the warped relic of an NY indie-rap wave that never happened. Meanwhile, Segal has been in L.A. for twenty years; from paying dues with Project Blowed to pushing the culture forward with Busdriver and Milo. All the while, his soulful, dreamlike production precariously tethered to earth by the right drums or rumbling bass. But look closer and it makes more sense. After all, Segal lent his production to a couple of songs on Paraffin, Armand Hammer’s critically-acclaimed opus, and the two artists have more than a few shared collaborators: Open Mike Eagle, ELUCID, and Hemlock Ernst amongst them. Hiding Places finds both artists deep in the labyrinth. Segal’s lush soundscapes have a new edge, woods’ writing is, paradoxically, at its most direct. Hiding Places is a child’s game: funny and cruel, as brutal as a fairy tale. The album features familiar names from both artists’ well of collaborators with ELUCID, Self-Jupiter, Blockhead and MOTHERMARY making contributions.

Die schwedische Rock-Band Spiders präsentiert ihren neuen Longplayer 'Sharp Objects'! Wie bei ihren früheren Veröffentlichungen ist der Sound von Spiders tief im klassischen Rock'n'Roll verwurzelt. 'Sharp Objects' bietet jedoch etwas Neues, indem es Einflüsse aus der New-Wave- und Garage-Rock-Szene der frühen 80er Jahre einfließen lässt. Klingt wie Blondie, Dead Boys, The Hellacopters oder Bikini Kill.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

“Spiderr” is Bladee’s sixth studio album. Featuring Wondha Mountain and fellow Drain Gang member Ecco2k, the album features fan favorite tracks like “ICARUS 3REESTYLE” and “HAHAH”. This is the first time this release is being pressed on vinyl.

"Perfect Teeth" war das finale Album der amerikanischen Indie-Institution Unrest. Dreißig Jahre nach der ursprünglichen Veröffentlichung lassen 4AD und die Band es als Doppelalbum neu aufleben. Die 30th Anniversary Edition besteht aus dem remasterten Originalalbum sowie "Extra Teeth", einem Bonusalbum mit EP-Tracks, Singles und Raritäten. Unrest, die ihren Namen einer Henry-Cow-Platte entliehen hatten, gründeten sich 1983 in einer Schule in Arlington, Virginia. Anfangs noch improvisierende Instrumentalband, perfektionierten sie bald einen vielseitigen Sound mit unterschiedlichen Genreeinflüssen. Sie veröffentlichten ihre Musik über TeenBeat, das Label ihres Frontmannes Mark Robinson und später auch bei 4AD, Caroline und Matador. Auf "Perfect Teeth" sind die Gründungsmitglieder Mark Robinson und Phil Kraut sowie Bassistin Bridget Cross (ursprünglich Sängerin von Velocity Girl) zu hören. Das Album wurde im Pachyderm Studio in Cannon Falls, Minnesota aufgenommen, wo erst kurz zuvor Nirvanas "In Utero" fertiggestellt wurde. Brian Paulson, bekannt durch seine Arbeit für Slints "Spiderland", nahm "Perfect Teeth" auf. Die Produktion übernahm Simon LeBon. Für die 30th Anniversary Edition wurde das Album nun inklusive aller Bonustracks - meist auf Grundlage der Originalbänder - neu gemastert. In Zusammenarbeit mit Designer Chris Bigg enstand ein neues Backcover, ein neues Sleeve sowie das "Extra Teeth" Artwork. Der einmalig neu aufgelegte Release kommt mit einem 16-seitigen Art Catalogue mit Linernotes von Unrest, 4AD-Gründer Ivo Watts-Russel und Chris Bigg.

Five Green Moons is the brand new project from the legendary Justin Robertson and here he drops the first fruits of that project with the incredible Moon 1.

This isn't Justin at his house controls. This is Justin delving into his roots and digging around through the likes of P.I.L, Gang Of Four, On-U-Sound, Current 93, Coil, Sabres Of Paradise and all manner of post punk echoes and basement electronics. As the man himself puts it - Moon 1 is a haunted ballroom full of memories. The sound of a dystopian disco. An object on a wonky orbit. A spectral visitation. And it is alive.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

This anthology follows Now-Again's Loving On The Flipside, issued more than a decade ago. And that anthology itself got its start in a different time, a decade even earlier - the era in which Now-Again's Egon and his friends chased down funk 45s and the odd LP for their testosterone riddled, aggressive sound. Often times the funk song on one of their chosen is would be the throw-away b-side, the hasty afterthought the band cobbled together the night before hitting - or while in - the studio because they'd put all of their energies into writing the amazing ballad that would ensure their entry in soul's history books. Every once in a while, that funk song they coveted could have been - in an alternate universe - a ballad. The Third Guitar's "Baby Don't Cry," El Pooks* "I Could Do The Impossible" and Spider Harrison's "Beautiful Day" all fit into this category. That realization notwithstanding, more often than not they shined over the ballads to get to the tough stuff. Then they started flipping those funk records over to find some loving on the flip side. Some marvellous tunes were there to be found. This is the long awaited follow up. Contained within this anthology are some of the greatest soul ballads that go sweet with a beat - or, to follow our tagline, epitomize "sweet funk." Most of these songs have never been compiled. Some have never been issued in any form. Some, like the Ledgends entry here, were sampled to great success (in that case for Freddie Gibbs and Madlib's "Deeper"). Some haven't been sampled, but, like Herb Johnson's entry, are patiently awaiting their day. It should go without saying that we're proud to present this music in good conscience; with the full participation of everyone but the most obscure names contained within. And, for those who we've not yet been able to contact, this is our message: We've found your brethren, we've placed them beside you on an album that we hope you feel is befitting of your collective contributions to soul music and now we're just waiting for you. Though the music you recorded is from the years past, vour time is now.

Capturing phantom drones behind dusty beats and haunted twangs, Ellis Swan and James Schimpl return for their third album as Dead Bandit. Locked into a musical language unique to their collaboration, the duo once again put us out to pasture across broad sonic plains, drums flapping like loose fence panels in the prairie breeze and bass rumbling like distant thunder. True to their previous two records, Swan and Schimpl keep the strung out guitars at the front of what they do, whether playing a naked, desolate strum or running six strings through disruptive effects processing until they're barely recognisable.
But while there are details of disturbance when listening to Dead Bandit's self-titled record up close, the wider impression is a smoother, more direct affair that toys with post-rock complexity and matches it with the emotional weight of melodic simplicity, gentle grooves and conscious arrangements. 'Weeds' offsets its languid fuzz guitar with shimmering sustained notes before settling into a patient, heavy-hearted composition charged with heartbreak leads pealing out in the middle distance.
By comparison, 'Glass' has a smoky, half-hidden backroom quality. Its brushed whisper of a beat, lingering guitar drones and subtle sub bass come on like a dub wise flip of a sad-eyed country ballad. The mood maintains on 'Half Smoked Cigarette', which captures the grey sky sullenness of post-punk and reframes it in the seductive isolation of rural America. While there's a thickness to the sound on these most direct of tracks on the album, there's also fragility inherent to the sound world Dead Bandit have been shaping out over these past few years.
'Buttercup' swaps sadness for sinister undercurrents, once more drawing on fulsome low end to fill out the sparse threads of instrumentation up top. 'Pink' finds a steady momentum for its own brand of brooding mystery, the sharp end of the beat bringing focus to the many-layered approaches to the guitar which roundly define the Dead Bandit sound. There's an even clearer direction mapped out in the vintage drum machine pulse of 'Koyo', all the better to carry swirling effects treatments and moody melodic figures. Even in these ominous climes there's space for plaintive, endearing hooks which land as the most direct phrases in Dead Bandit's musical lexicon to date.
The fundamental sound across this album holds true, but Dead Bandit are never bound to a singular practice. 'Lucien's Bitters' strikes up a pronounced drum machine beat which comes on like 90s downtempo, and it feels like a natural vessel for the heavy, shoegaze tinted lament of the guitars. At every turn, Swan and Schimpl prove their affinity for all kinds of approaches, and yet the end product is a deeply cohesive, immediate listen that shows just how clear their creative vision really is.

No matter how much of their filthy riches Munich’s oh-so shiny and smart glitterati are going to spend on generic pest control, they’ll never manage to exterminate SPINNEN (n.b. German for “spiders” – and also for “being bonkers” ;) Instead, SPINNEN will spread even further, they’ll form new networks, take over new corners, new spots, connect more musical dots with invisible, incendiary cobwebs.

Whereas these two SPINNEN – Sophie Neudecker (drums) and Veronica “Katta” Burnuthian (bass) – have been doing their spidery thing(s) in countless muggy, experimental corners of Munich for years (think bands such as Bombo, Uschi, Apian, The Living Object, Friends of Gas + other art ventures, tats, Schaufel & Besen Records…), the duo’s first full-length offering for Weilheim-based Alien Transistor sees them move on towards a warm kind of light – “Warmes Licht”. Inspired by Lambrini Girls, Peaches, McLusky, Amyl And The Sniffers, and all things loud and gain-heavy around their hometown, the album – obviously two body parts (A + B side), 8 legs (tracks) – is set to arrive in March 2025.

“Zusammen wachsen/Zusammen fallen,” meaning grow together/fall together feels like a fitting motto on opening track “Träume,” an initial onslaught of shouts, spiky basslines, crunchy chords, a whole lot of awesome friction in that lovely lower end. “Visionen folgen/Kämpfen und Erschaffen,” is another apt line while doing just that, fighting, creating, turning visions into soundscapes, into pure sonic fun & resistance. Putting even more pressure on the mosh pit with wordless “Wirken,” that titular warm light eventually breaks through towards the end of hypnotic “Moment”: The lyrics might talk about a calm state of mind – but these two are certainly not slowing down, not aiming for consistency, or for “making it”…

“Warm” has no drums, no message, it’s pure light, all playful organ hypnosis, paving the way for the b-side that opens with first single “Geister” (spirits/ghosts/genies): Arriving with a rough wind that immediately turns things upside down, it’s all screams and riffs, turbines and propellers – one of many moments that make you realize how bad you want to see this hi-octane duo live, how good it must feel to have them scare the shit out of your body (“Verscheuche mich aus meinem Körper”). They’re like two genies coming from the same smashed bottle, offering three wishes to those who’re lucky enough to listen (Fuzzy Noise Pop? Punk Catharsis? Rrriot Krautsound?).

Following a quick melancholy breather (“Lichter”), things once again get restless as they rush towards the punk finale via slow-burning demolisher anthem “Ermüdend”/“Immer wieder,” only to unleash one last battle cry, one last middle finger made of light and noise to the heated room (“Mäuse”) they’ve long taken over.

It’s certainly no coincidence that a certain square/fine/upstanding citizen named Margit O. gave Munich’s Bürgerpark Oberföhring a scathing 1-star review on Google Maps exactly four years ago – at the very moment that Sophie and Katta first met just there, which eventually lead to the formation of SPINNEN. The reason for O.’s negative rating: “Too loud”.

BLACK SPIDERS sind nicht totzukriegen kehren zu Beginn des Jahres 2025 zurück. Die authentischen Rocker aus Sheffield sind mit einem brandneuen Album voller Hochspannungs-Kracher zurück und werden ihr neues Album "Cvrses" veröffentlichen, das zwölf neue Tracks mit genau der Art von mitreißender Rock'n'Roll-Action enthält, die wir alle von Black Spiders erwarten, lieben und fordern. Ihre Absichten sind heute noch dieselben wie in dem Moment, in dem sie 2008 angefangen haben - sei dir selbst treu, ohne Kompromisse. ,Wir hoffen, dass alles gut wird, wenn man sich an diese Formel hält, und mit ein bisschen Glück kann einen das Leben überraschen", sagt Gitarrist Pete Spiby. ,Es ist unser fünftes Album, aus der Sicht von mir und Irwin. Es ist unser bestes. Unsere Absichtserklärung hat sich seit dem ersten Tag nicht geändert. Wieder in den Axis Studios in Doncaster mit Produzent Matt Ellis aufgenommen, ist das neue Album - und das sagen natürlich alle Bands - höchstwahrscheinlich ihr bisher bestes Album. Es destilliert erfolgreich alles, was an Black Spiders einzigartiger Marke der stampfenden Heaviness spannend und lebensbejahend ist. Massive Riffs, massive Hooks, massive Beats. "Cvrses" dampfrockt gleich eine Achterbahnfahrt der Rock-Emotionen mit Balladen, Uptempo und Härte.,Solange der Antrieb im Tank ist, werden wir weitermachen, denn das ist es, was wir tun müssen", sagen Pete und "Cvrses" zu jedem, der versucht, die BLACK SPIDERS aufzuhalten. Farbige Vinyl-LP sowie CD!

Das zweite gefühlvolle Dark Pop Album des legendären Schlagzeugers Dave Lombardo und der Singer-Songwriterin Paula Lombardo.

Die Beziehung von Dave und Paula Lombardo ist wie geschaffen für eine romantische Komödie. Man stelle sich vor: Der Mann, der die Messlatte für Heavy-Metal-Schlagzeuger höher gelegt hat, hat ein Rendezvous mit einer schönen Frau, deren musikalischer Hintergrund darin besteht, dass sie in Las Vegas als Backgroundsängerin für bekannte Bands gearbeitet hat und in Nashville als Singer/Songwriterin Fuß fassen wollte. Zum Glück für die Welt hat sich ihr musikalischer Bund in Venamoris manifestiert, deren Ipecac-Debüt To Cross Or To Burn (erscheint am 28. Februar) weit davon entfernt ist, vorgefasste Meinungen zu zerstören, während es fesselnde neue Möglichkeiten aufbaut.

Natürlich sind die Qualitäten des unermüdlichen Dave Lombardo als Weltklasse-Schlagzeuger bekannt. Aber während er die Blaupause entwarf, die das Thrash-Metal-Schlagzeugspiel definieren sollte, hat er seine Finesse auch auf Solo-Schlagzeug (Rites Of Percussion von 2023, ebenfalls auf Ipecac), Hip-Hop und klassische Musik angewandt, und er hat grenzüberschreitende Aufnahmen und Auftritte mit jedem gemacht, von John Zorns Ensembles bis zu den Punk-Ikonen Misfits und Mr. Bungle. To Cross... ist ein weiterer Meilenstein in seiner bewegten Karriere, in der er seine klanglichen Fähigkeiten um Gitarre, Bass und bemerkenswerte Produktionstechniken erweitert hat. „Das einzige, was mit den vielen Schlagzeugen, die wir zu Hause haben, mithalten kann, sind die vielen Gitarren, die Dave hat“, sagt Paula lachend. „Also spielt er auf diesem Album ziemlich viel Gitarre.“

Paula ist eine wahrhaft dynamische musikalische Kraft mit beeindruckenden stimmlichen Fähigkeiten, Geschick am Klavier und am Synthesizer und einem ausgeprägten Gespür für verführerische Texte, Melodien und Arrangements. Mit 18 war sie Backgroundsängerin in der Enklave des Entertainers Wayne Newton in Las Vegas, wo sie lernte, mit dem Druck umzugehen, wenn man mehrere Auftritte an einem Abend hat und jeden Tag Perfektion verlangt wird. Sie verließ Vegas und ging nach Nashville, um ihre Musikkarriere fortzusetzen, aber, wie sie selbst sagt, „es war einfach nicht das Richtige“.

Der Name Venamoris leitet sich vom lateinischen vena amoris („Liebesader“, die angeblich vom linken Ringfinger zum Herzen verläuft) ab. Die erste öffentliche Aufnahme von Venamoris war „The Gift“, ein Weihnachtslied, das die Lombardos auf Bandcamp veröffentlichten. Kurz darauf erschien ihr Debütalbum "Drown In Emotion", das sich durch Paulas Singer-Songwriter-Vibe auszeichnet, als wäre es 1975 zwischen den Deep Cuts von Carole Kings "Tapestry" und "Heart's Dog And Butterfly" aus dem FM-Radio gezupft worden.

Unter den Special Guests auf dem Album::
Kontrabass - Trevor Dunn von Mr. Bungle (Stay with Me)
Bass - Ra Diaz von Korn (Stain of Pain)
Gitarre - Alex Skolnick von Testament (Stain of Pain, Burnt Paper)
Gitarre - Gary Holt von Slayer (Animal Magnetism)