Follow up to Goodge's 2023 album Echoes Of Yesterday. Previous releases found on Hip Dozer and Cascade Records. Tracks found on the popular Spotify Mellow Beats playlist. 11th in 'Jet Set' Cold Busted series. Designed and manufactured similar to the vintage 60's style rice paper sleeves. In his latest EP, Sunday Soul, Goodge takes listeners on a four-track journey through the heart of funk, masterfully blending elements of R&B, jazz, and chilled lo-fi. Released as part of Cold Busted's Jet Set series, this four-song offering follows Goodge's 2023 album Echoes Of Yesterday and showcases his dedication to crafting timeless music. "Lights Out" kicks off the EP with heavy funk and stirring breakbeats, accompanied by a scratchy guitar that summons the revolutionary spirit of the '70s. Horns serve as a call to action, while a rollicking bass line and chunky electric piano might inspire listeners to go out and fight crime. "Promised Land" follows, featuring a formidable funk bass guitar and lead guitar chords that rhythmically play off the delightfully busy drums, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of the city's bustle. The title track, "Sunday Soul," is a rowdy affair with a speech-over-beats leading to crispy snare rolls and chiming electric piano. Shaker magic, staccato horn bleats, and spiral flute bits combine to create a swirling vintage-hued photograph of sound. The EP concludes with "Within Myself," a spacier sonic experience that could serve as the soundtrack for chasing someone across rooftops. It's funk spelled with a capital K. Sunday Soul is a must-listen for fans of of the heavier side of funk, solidifying Goodge's position as a master of his craft, creating a nostalgic yet fresh soundscape that keeps listeners grooving back for more.
Suche:spiral scratch
- 1
UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.
Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.
Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.
It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.
The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.
The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.
In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”
It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”
The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.
Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.
So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.
They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.
Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.
But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.
So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!
There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.
There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.
Dutch old school power house Markie with some 6-am-type-of-shit light sabre wielding energizer, stomping ahead while trying to fend of a giggling swarm of robotic mosquitos. 150 beasts.
Pneumatix & Mental Reaper with some deep flowing reflection of the walls caging our existdance. Superbly crafted food for mind and feet best enjoyed in the middle of the forest with no walls.
160 beasts.
As’teka Nahuatl & La Tartine pump up the jam in da south style. Summoning Quetzalcōātl the spirally voluted one in it’s cyber incarnation to the modern dance, bringing with it a horde of spider monkeys that go ape all over the place. Can you scratch the itch?
165 beasts.
Original full sleeve artwork by Darkam. Design and Layout by TDSiNGZ. Mastered by Stefan ZMK.
Each 12“ EP comes with a 2 sided poster, a digital download code, and 2 artwork stickers.
With the Scratch EP, Scottish techno powerhouse Gary Beck delivers four razor-sharp cuts that bring raw energy and dancefloor pressure to FJAAK's label CROWD. Known for his unmistakable grooves and stripped-down power, Beck presents a no-frills EP that bridges classic techno aesthetics with forward momentum. Opening with the single 'French System', the EP kicks off in full throttle. It's a propulsive roller built around tough drums, catchy synths, a female vocal leading the way and Beck's signature percussive tension. Title track 'Scratch' follows with a twitchy, angular rhythm that spirals around a fragmented vocal motif and bold machine-funk energy with tense breaks leading to ecstatic drops. On the record's flip side, 'How Do You Feel' keeps the level high, fusing jacking rhythms with a funky vocal and a Beck's heavy signature kicks. Finally, 'Eclipse' closes the EP pushing the energy into darker territories with relentless drive, its distorted pulse and industrial edge. This release marks a fierce debut on CROWD for Gary Beck - four no-nonsense weapons crafted for peak-time moments and the rawer corners of the club. A heavy-hitting addition to the label's catalog and a must-have for techno selectors with a taste for precision and punch.
- A1: Eyeroll (Feat Elvin Brandhi) (4 01)
- A2: Malikan (Feat Abdullah Miniawy) (4 08)
- A3: Move On (Feat Iceboy Violet) (3 44)
- A4: 99 Favor Taste (Feat Juliana Huxtable) (0 57)
- A5: Nontrival Differential (Feat Elvin Brandhi) (4 25)
- A6: Partygoodtime (Feat Ledef) (0 09)
- B1: Cut Cut Quote (Feat Elvin Brandhi) (4 22)
- B2: Pique (4 26)
- B3: If The City Burns I Will Not Run (Feat Abdullah Miniawy & James Ginzburg) (3 23)
- B4: Hasty Revisionism (3 14)
- B5: Lacrymaturity (2 43)
Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.
- A1: (Petri Alanko) - Vertical Reflections
- A2: Slaughtering A Nightingale
- A3: Driving To The Spot
- A4: Manuscript Page
- A5: Saga
- A6: Rose
- A7: Bathtub
- A8: Evil Is Contagious
- A9: The Attack, A Ceiling Fan And Lots Of Blood
- B1: (Petri Alanko) - Fbc Arrives
- B2: Wake Shoots Wake, Scratch Scores An Escape
- B3: Wake Shoots Casey
- B4: Into The Static
- B5: The End(S)?
- B6: End Credits - Welcome Again To Bright Falls
- B7: End Credits - Awash Unknown
- C1: This Road (The Dark Chamber) – Poe
- C2: Herald Of Darkness – Old Gods Of Asgard
- C3: The Poet And The Muse – Old Gods Of Asgard
- C4: Yötön Yö – Petri Alanko Feat. Martti Suosalo
- D1: (Chapter Songs By Fried Music & Nordic Music Partners) - Follow You Into The Dark – Rakel
- D2: Wide Awake – Jaimes
- D3: Superhero – Mougleta
- D4: Lost At Sea – Jean Castel
- D5: Dark, Twisted And Cruel – Paleface
- D6: No One Left To Love – Roos + Berg
Remedy Entertainment und Laced Records präsentieren die wegweisende, unvergessliche Musik des preisgekrönten Videospiels 'Alan Wake 2' auf Vinyl.
Remedy und sein Creative Director Sam Lake sind wohl unübertroffen in ihrem Engagement für die Musik in ihren Spielen. Für den Soundtrack verfolgten sie vier kreative Hauptstränge: Der langjährige Mitarbeiter Petri Alanko (Alan Wake, Quantum Break, Control) kehrte als leitender Komponist zurück und lieferte einen bissigen und doch gefühlvollen dramatischen Horror-Score sowie die bei den Fans beliebte Hausmeister-Ballade „Yötön Yö“, gesungen von Martti Suosalo (Ahti).
Der Musikkünstler POE und Sam Lake haben sich zusammengetan, um vier Teile des spiralförmigen, melancholischen Epos „This Road“ zu schaffen, das das Ende von Wakes Reise durch den Dark Place darstellt.
Die Poets of the Fall schlüpften erneut in die Rolle der alten Götter von Asgard und schufen mehrere Prog-Opera, darunter das monumentale „Herald of Darkness“ mit dem Gesang von Matthew Porretta (Alan Wake) und David Harewood (Mr. Door).
Schließlich versammelte die Musikproduktionsfirma Fried Music in Zusammenarbeit mit Nordic Music Partners eine kleine Armee außergewöhnlicher Songwriter-Talente, um die vielseitigen, atmosphärischen und im Universum angesiedelten „Chapter Songs“ zu komponieren.
Emerging from the Minneapolis underground and heading straight towards the sky, IE arrive on Quindi with a full-length album of sparkling, sophisticated wonder. Touching on kosmische grandeur, Riley-esque cyclical patterns, lounge pop and dubbed out psychedelia, the five-piece allow their songs to unfurl with a natural, hypnotic elegance which can take many different forms.
There's a loose, live quality to the recordings IE's members commit to record, which reflects their steady presence gigging in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Since putting out their first release in 2016, they've glided from drone and synth-led jam band ambience (2018's Pome) to strung out, stoner-tinted slowcore (on 2023's outstanding Junk Body). For Reverse Earth they strike a smoky note that wraps itself around your skull across extended run times that evolve with a meditative poise.
From the deceptively driving 4/4 thrum of the opening title track through 'Divination Bag's snaking tryptamine mantras on to 'Simplify's slow and smouldering indie-soul, IE's sound is bathed in a sumptuous warm glow that rounds out the lows and the mids, creating a nocturnal shroud in which their nebulous song structures can feel deliciously endless.
Meredith Gill's drums provide rolling and tumbling undercurrents for the slowly shifting phases of the instrumental players, as Michael Gallope and Travis Workman trade keyboard parts and Workman and Sam Molstad chop and pick at their six-strings. Atop the thrum of her bass, Mariel Oliviera's vocal adapts to the scenery, from a distant, dreamlike siren song on 'Reverse Earth' to a spoken word meditation on 'Babel'.
There's space in each track for every instrument to cut through and have its moment, from a spiralling key vamp to a chicken-scratch guitar flex. The gently twisting, head-feeding groove exercises of the first four tracks give way to a slow and powerful march on 'Dark Rome', closing the record on a noirish anti-ballad fit to peal out in the closing slot at Twin Peaks' Roadhouse (circa season three).
As much as the tracks teem with composition, musicianship, and production to savor, a sound like IE's has a soporific quality that soaks in unconsciously. It's an evocative portal where the band feel as if they could just play on each piece ad infinitum - where the time itself seems to dislodge from its moorings.
Wild broken heart healing procedure through time distorted tape recordings by T. Delaunay (panoptique), D.L. Byrne (Charmaine’s Names) and J. Warmenbol (Kabaal). A new emanation from the Simple Music Experience collective (Fiesta en el Vacìo, Helen Island, Parasite Jazz...).
Minimalistic mystery pop by the clue chasers De Klok, who recorded their spontaneous first album under one moon and one sun during an intense session of investigation, bribery, calculations, doubts, and beard-scratching. The result: 14 tracks recorded on tape—including hazardous interludes. A glimpse into this post-spy-punk world, made up of croony voices, hypnotic basslines, and lo-fi drums, by the three international agents Charmaine’s Name, Kabaal, and Constance Chlore / Panoptique.
Originally released on cassette by Simple Music Experience, the vinyl version includes two new tracks, all remastered.
Ever-evolving the mythologies and magic of Dialect's sonic sphere, Andrew PM Hunt returns with Atlas of Green, elegantly molding unexacting details of memory and mistranslation into the framework of the British musician and composer's creative pursuit. The album imagines a young musician named Green working in a future dawning era where lost signals and enduring impulses are unearthed from the sediments of technology and time. Across twelve compositions, Green becomes the compass in an epoch of transition; one shaded with pastoral patinas and studded with the fragments of allegorical ruin. As tattered as it is tender, Atlas of Green is a patchwork of scavenged relics and bygone hues, cast through the iridescent shimmers of a mid-future in flux. Growing up on the Wirral Peninsula in North West England, Hunt was surrounded by stone age landmarks and rock carvings that infused the landscape with legend. It was beside those carvings on a residency at Bidston Artistic Research Center where he began the journey of Atlas of Green, experimenting with tape loops and exploring the center's library of sci-fi. Here Hunt also encountered the work of Italian philosopher Federico Campagna, a writer who believes we're at the end of our current world. This encouraged Hunt's exploration of how the fabric and fantasies of our current era might endure into the future of Green, as they try to make sense of the riddles of the past, utilizing broken electronics and simple acoustic instruments to create new mythic forms. This question of endurance led Hunt to inscribe Atlas of Green with its own lucid markings - sometimes almost anthemic adornments - which unfurl through the album's melancholic air as possible new metaphors for how the human spirit might persist through dark days and regain lost wisdom. As Hunt reflects, "We're not just on an endless procession through constantly better worlds. Our lack of action (on climate and inequality) feels hopeless at times. I find some comfort in the idea that maybe the world needs a new song in order to tell a new story about itself". The image of Green as a journeying adolescent in-between eras developed out of a burgeoning interest in the fantasy writing of Ursula K. Le Guin and Gene Wolfe and occurred at a point in Hunt's life where the question of starting a family was looming. Green became a device for thinking about the future, or futures, putting someone in another world and granting access to a slightly longer timeframe than one's own life. What would this person, in this as-yet-unsung world do with something as powerful as music? As Hunt notes, "I imagined them doing what we've always done with music - using it to build a map of feeling, providing boundaries and tracing the edges of our emotions, defining a space of possibility and giving voice to our intuition. This is an alternative future to the one of endless growth but one which still holds space for hopes and dreams." Mapping new folds in the passage of time, Atlas of Green is traced with an aura of sonic urgency which arises through its process-led construction. Following a series of live shows in early 2023, the record was created with an assemblage of analogue electronics and acoustic instruments, including scratched records and a broken four track, collaging studio work with recorded live recordings featuring work in progress. Where the indeterminate energies of Under~Between (2021) appeared through digital processing, Atlas of Green embraces chance encounters within the malfunctions of physical media and glitching gear. Within these interwoven clusters of organic and blemished sound, Dialect reclaims the joyfulness of the inner amateur and creates a soft landing for new seeds of magical possibility - rooted in the bounds and abundance of realism. "As a planet of people we have to deal one way or another with our finite existence. We have to deal with that loss with hope still in our hearts - our capacity to love cannot be contingent on things lasting forever, and so this image of Green is not a vision of dystopia, nor utopia but an expression of trust and an acceptance of limits."
- Self-Destruction
- God's Particle
- So There I Was
- On Solids
- Psychosomatic
- Stupid Kunst
- Strain Of Bacteria
- Deeper
- Till The Stars In His Eyes Are Dead
- Wednesday's Emotional Setup
- Going Off
- Punk Of Me
- System Blues
- The Presentation Of The Self In Everyday Life
- Designoid
- Like Elvis (Hello Mr Curtis)
- Bungled Existence
- Once In Montecorto
- Theme From Goodbye Antarctica
- Under A Lenient Moon
- Breakdown (Re-Recording)
- It Mattered
- Your Talking Sense
- Bet Your Mind
Buzzkunst ist PETE SHELLEY (Buzzcocks, solo) & HOWARD DEVOTO (earliest Buzzcocks, Magazine, solo). 'SPECIAL SAUCE' ist größtenteils eine Neukonfiguration des 2002er CD-only-Albums 'Buzzkunst' von ShelleyDevoto. JETZT (!) zum ersten Mal auf VINYL, mit einer neuen Reihenfolge und zwei (2) bisher unveröffentlichten Tracks - 'Psychosomatic' und 'Punk Of Me'. Und als ob das noch nicht genug wäre, gibt's noch ein zweites Mini-Album: 11 NEVER BEFORE RELEASED HOWARD DEVOTO ARCHIVE RECORDINGS aus der gleichen Zeit, mit dem Titel 'DESIGNOID'. Instrumentalstücke und Songs, eigenwillig wie immer, inklusive eines 21st century re-work von 'Breakdown', das ursprünglich auf der selbstveröffentlichten Debüt-EP der Buzzcocks, 'Spiral Scratch', enthalten war. "This Shelley is Pete Shelley _ old punks will remember him from the legendary Buzzcocks, while '80s rockers may recall his electro-pop hit Homo Sapien. The Devoto is Howard Devoto, Shelley's old Buzzcocks partner who went on to form the arty post-punk outfit Magazine. Now working together again for the first time in 25 years, the duo have achieved a sound that incorporates most if not all of their previous endeavours without reverting to cheap nostalgia. Their 14-track reunion album Buzzkunst is a progressive step forward, combining the grinding guitars of Shelley's youth and the poppy synthesizers of his middle age with the artsy sonic sculptures and post-punk yelp of Devoto's past." - Tinnitist,2002/2022
An’archives announce the release of Ricshari, the first LP from Japanese free improvising duo MAI MAO. Consisting of Shizuo Uchida of Hasegawa-Shizuo, Albedo Gravitas, Archeus, Kito Muzukumi Rouber, TERROR SHIT, UH, etc. on bass, and Kyosuke Terada, of HUH (who have their own release due on An’archives soon), TERROR SHIT, Bay City Rolaz, Praymate, The Obey Unit, etc. on guitar, they’ve previously released two wild cassettes, Curvature Improvement Plan (Haang Niap, 2020) and Folk Dope Rally (2021), both documenting one-take improvisations from live gigs. Ricshari was recorded by Nobuki Nishiyama in January 2021, and is proof, if any was needed, that this duo is one of the most fiercely unique, out -there units currently extant – in Japan, or anywhere, for that matter.
The music of MAI MAO seems to proceed by opposites and juxtaposition, shifting from frantic, hectic runs of splattering note spray to moments of granular stasis, where Uchida and Terada coax their instruments into and out of deep wells of silence, or rest, temporarily, in a lagoon of fermenting fuzz. Spiralling kinetics are largely the order of the day, though – the opener, “Chew a flying flash prayer”, skitters here and there, guitar and bass jumping over one another in games of leapfrog and Twis ter, finding new ways to perplex and puzzle the listener, and perhaps each other in the process, Uchida and Terada fully committed to the short -circuiting spirit of the moment.
The energy here is hyperactive, but it also speaks of a curious and committed attention to improvisatory responsiveness, one that’s just as likely to fork off into different directions in a split second – it’s real edge-of-the-seat stuff, as though the hands are moving too fast for the mind to follow. That’s all the better, then, to let the gush of genuinely free-thinking, devoted duo improvisation to fly at its most playful and intelligent. File next to the likes of Davey Williams & LaDonna Smith and their TransMuseq companions, or th e wickedly perplexing bass-synth/trombone duets of Dave Dove Paul Duo, and you’ve some idea of what’s going on here, provisionally at least, ‘cos this one’s an enthralling, yet welcoming, head-scratcher of the highest calibre.
Channeling her innermost depths, Oshana reveals her widest body of work to date, “Disciples of Dystopia;” a multi-faceted expression of the emotions, influences, and sounds that have guided her on her musical journey. The album aptly marks the fourth release on her very own, Psionic label, and is the first double 12” in the catalogue.
As you lift into orbit, “Disciples Of Dystopia”, seduces your senses with an ominous vocal of what lies ahead. The opening track simmers gently with a progressively rising atmosphere as the down tempo vibe flows inside you-Automatic connection. “Mind Over Matter” is a futuristic breaks experience, familiar nostalgic hip hop scratches flash in and out, winding into a spiraled synth labyrinth that introduces you to dimensions unknown. Slowing the pace down a notch is “Labor Of Love;” emotional chords and floaty melodies work their way around the steady and pitched down body of the track.
As we coast into the B side, “Embrace The Wave” offers some italo energy; clean disco kicks meld into retro synths; this one cruises on a loose, irresistible, and unrelenting groove. “Take Me Away” sweeps you right off your feet and includes a feature from long time collaborative partner, Anthea. Anthea’s transcending vocals set the tone for a harmonious quest, enriched with positive and imaginative energy; the type you want to absorb as the night concludes. However, the night is far from over.
As we coast into part two, we’re introduced to “Odyssey,” a slow rising track that takes you from the intergalactic ocean all the way to the techno tides. As the track progresses, all of the mechanical cogs converse in absolute harmony. Who doesn’t enjoy a “Heated Moment?” Crisp and punchy drums drive the track as a trance bassline ripples throughout, making an impression on the most discerning of dancefloors.
Riding a squelchy, arpeggiated acid line from the start is “Astral Flight”, a psychedelic club room charmer that revolves around warm and direct bass. The closing track of the LP “Automated Beats,” is a raw, animated affair structured around chunky 808 arrangements and hip hop percussion; playful with a pinch of ghetto booty charm for good measure.
“Disciples Of Dystopia” is more than just an LP; each of the tracks feed off of the next, and Oshana’s never-ending creative energy shines as she bends through genres with effortless ease.
F.S.Blumm enters Andi Otto's studio with a whole palette of strings and a mission to create quirky, peaceful soundscapes. The artists intertwine acoustic and electric guitars, harps, electric bass, psaltery and cello in eleven electronica compositions ranging from neo-classical gravity ("Entangleland") to spaced-out dub jams ("Active Fault Map"). "Yukiyama" evolves in multilayered patterns braided over warm tape-noise. "Kilani" reminds of Rabih Abou Khalil's ECM recordings, with its oriental scale and a beat that counts to seven. The tunes shine most when silence takes over, when the sounds find space to unfold and decay. Far from being trivial ambient lullabies, these compositions burst with detail: Bells rattle, a kalimba resonates, and vintage synths induce their voltage into the acoustic framework. Andi Otto and F.S.Blumm have been musical collaborators in the studio as well as on stages between Berlin and Tokyo for more than a decade now, the heyday being their previous duo album "The Bird And White Noise" in 2014. On "Entangleland", Andi Otto contributes the cello, harp and synth recordings and takes care of the mixing. Compared to his recent releases on Multi Culti or Shika Shika, these tracks are less dancefloor oriented. The calm of this album is a flourishing environment for Otto to pluck the acoustic cello which we usually hear in a more processed way in his solo works. F.S.Blumm contributes guitar and bass recordings as well as saturated percussion echoes from his self-made spiral box. Blumm is famous for his acoustic solo productions since his early outings on Morr Music or Tomlab. He has also appeared on Pingipung a few times, for example with his album "Up Up And Astray" or as a Lee 'Scratch' Perry collaborator with the "Quasi Dub Development" project. He recorded three duo albums together with Nils Frahm and is a member of the mighty "Jeff Özdemir & Friends" collective in Berlin. "Entangleland" sees the two artists weave together a mass of acoustic motifs, synthetic melodies, riddims and improv jams where the magic emerges from the sum of the parts. "It's not about accompanying a cello theme with the guitar or vice versa," Andi Otto says. "Entangling sound means letting go of hierarchies, that no one is first. Our studio is not a control room, it's a place of imagination where we take things apart and make things whole."
It's been five years since his acclaimed debut 'Severant' and time has proved it prescient, its futuristic trap influence is now ubiquitous. 'Slow Knife' seems to return to where 'Severant' left off, but with the intricate sound design of last year's haunting EP 'Assertion Of A Surrounding Presence' subsumed into the compositions, making them more exacting and beautifully crafted. Between albums Kuedo has been working as a sound designer and composer for hire and the application of intent and widescreen rigour that commercial work requires has definitely found its way into the new album. 'Slow Knife' has the subtlety, ambition and pacing of a brilliant soundtrack - a sense of an album of scenes, that easily lends itself to an impressionistic narrative. But, as with 'Severant', the title suggests relationship unease, with the slow knife being a metaphor for the building resentment in any close relationship. 'Slow Knife' is almost two albums, the first half, according to Kuedo, invokes the seduction of the city, taking the music of Michael Mann's 'Manhunter' as a cue, with the latter half being inspired by the bloody starscapes and voodoo wilderness of films such as 'Angel Heart', 'Night Of The Hunter' and more recently the 'True Detective' series. Both halves of the album are also in thrall to Mica Levi's inspiring 'Under The Skin' soundtrack, especially in the turbulence of the mid-section. The songs of the albums first half are synthetic and seductive, a gelatinous veil with shades of the pseudo-sophisticated trance of Enigma, of all things, underpinned with dusky unsettling shadows and atmosphere. 'In Your Sleep', perhaps surprisingly, features the vocals of Hayden Thorpe from Wild Beasts, who settles his dark, whispered vocals into the moonlit shadowy atmosphere. 'Floating Forest' is the first track to allow back some of Kuedo's experimentation with the Southern rap template, which he explored before it became commonplace, with echoed drum splashes and a sinister repetitive motif, ending with a haunting growl. The second half of the album enters wilderness territory with 'Approaching's slow descending notes, before 'Broken Fox - Black Hole' throws the record into the cathartic darkness, as undulating chords play hide and seek with riotous reeds and scratchy strings grown from challenging collaborations with cello player Koenraad Ecker (from Lumisokea). 'Breaking The Surface' shivers and coils, before metal and strings dominate while 'In Your Skin' feels like being lost in a vast hinterland before 'Warmer Light' introduces some memories of sunshine, with its plucked bassline and spiralling dub. 'Halogen Light' opens with the sound of crickets and a clear piano, cleansing the soul before 'Lathe' brings things down to earth with a short, yet powerful coda.
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