Search:subvert

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.

JeGong, known for their immersive, rhythm-driven explorations of Krautrock and experimental sound design, now take an exhilarating leap into brighter, nostalgically stranger territory. `Gomi Kuzu Can` is an electrifying journey through Kraut, Post- and Experimental Rock, delivered with the analog warmth of the '70s. Across eleven meticulously crafted tracks, JeGong embrace their roots while fearlessly expanding into neon-lit, beat-driven worlds where kinetic rhythms meet playful sonic futurism. It is music built for movement, contemplation, and the ecstatic strangeness of possibility. Their approach borrows the endurance and patience of minimalism, but they subvert minimalism's austerity with grit, distortion, and physicality. The result is music that feels alive in motion: constantly shifting, tightening, unfurling, and mutating even when its core pulse remains unbroken. "We wanted to create a `70s sound as the recording foundation - a sonic aesthetic that sets a mood through warm tape saturation. Like a kind of memory box where you can store recollections, for example from childhood, when you would spend hours by yourself watching TV and listening to the radio, often both at the same time." (JeGong) `Gomi Kuzu Can`, is hand-built, lovingly assembled from circuitry, intuition, and raw creative impulse. This tactile quality is precisely what makes the album's danceability so impactful. In blending organic rhythm with retro-electronic brightness, they've created a sound that is both familiar and refreshingly new. In the end, JeGong's sound is less a genre and more a landscape: rugged, hypnotic, austere, and strangely spiritual. It is music built on the bones of rhythm and the electricity of repetition, crafted with the precision of engineers and the instincts of explorers. FOR FANS OF Neu!, Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Swans, Mogwai, Sonic Youth, John Zorn The single colour edition comes as Glass Clear vinyl!

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.

ince its opening in spring 2021, JUBG, a still young Cologne gallery for contemporary art, has specialized in the broad field of artists and collaborations working along artistic interfaces, especially those between visual art and experimental and/or electronic music. For example, JUBG has already hosted exhibitions by Markus Oehlen, Kim Gordon, Wolfgang Voigt, Matthias and Aksel "Superpitcher" Schaufler, Sven-Åke Johansson, and Emil Schult. Albert Oehlen, who is a kind of mentor and supporter of the gallery, was also a guest at Albertusstraße this summer, where he presented the exhibition D-I-E ORPHEUSMASCHINE together with Michael Wertmüller, Thomas Stammer and the poet Rainald Goetz.

It is only logical that the gallery now expands its sphere of activity to include its own label, on which music appears that comes from similar contexts as the artists listed above already suggest.

As catalog number 1, JUBG is now releasing the official soundtrack to "The Painter" from 2021. The film, German title "Der Maler", is a mixture of feature film and documentary and a collaboration between German director Oliver Hirschbiegel, best known for his Oscar-nominated film "Downfall", and Albert Oehlen, with whom Hirschbiegel has a long friendship, as they both once studied together at the Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Hamburg.

The docu-fiction shows Oehlen struggling with a painting and pondering the meaning of his work. Oehlen is played by German actor and musician Ben Becker, accompanied by the off-screen voice of Charlotte Rampling. In the film, Becker makes a painting that Oehlen himself creates step by step behind the camera, while the actor improvises the process in front of the camera.

The wonderful music for this film comes from no less than two outstanding personalities whose individual biographies and musical signatures could hardly be better suited to this project. On the A-side it is Gudrun Gut, icon not only of the German electronic music scene since at least the 90's, singer, composer, DJ, label owner (Monika Enterprise) and of course founding member of the legendary 80's New Wave band Malaria. On the B-side it’s the world famous and award winning US avant-garde trumpeter and improvisational musician Nathan "Nate" Wooley, who has played with Fred Frith and John Zorn among others.

Gudrun Gut's tracks bear such beautiful titles as "Bewegung", "Küste" or "Weinen" and she once again pulls out all the stops of her great skills and decades of experience as a producer of the most diverse electronic music genres. These are unusual and much more experimental musical paintings that she creates here than on her recent solo works. Edgy, angular, raw and unpolished, yet always elegant and clever, she subverts the male artist madness depicted extensively in the film in her own unique way.

Nathan Wooley answers with the instrument he has been familiar with since childhood, the trumpet, with which he is able to create a ravishingly virtuosic noise. His pieces are more like sketches, often only 90 seconds or a few minutes long, but in all their abstractness underpin the narrative of the film almost perfectly.

A limited edition of 20 copies in total, painted and signed by Ben Becker, can be purchased directly through JUBG.

JUBG, eine noch junge Kölner Galerie für zeitgenössische Kunst, hat sich seit ihrer Eröffnung im Frühjahr 2021 auf das weite Feld von Künstler:innen und Kollaborationen spezialisiert, die entlang künstlerischer Schnittstellen tätig sind, insbesondere an denen zwischen bildender Kunst und experimenteller und/oder elektronischer Musik. So hat JUBG bereits Ausstellungen von Markus Oehlen, Kim Gordon, Wolfgang Voigt, Matthias und Aksel "Superpitcher" Schaufler, Sven-Åke Johansson und Emil Schult gezeigt. Auch Albert Oehlen, der eine Art Mentor und stiller Unterstützer der Galerie ist, war im Sommer dieses Jahres zu Gast in der Albertusstraße, wo er zusammen mit Michael Wertmüller, Thomas Stammer und dem Dichter Rainald Goetz die Ausstellung D•I•E ORPHEUSMASCHINE präsentierte.

Es ist nur logisch und folgerichtig, dass die Galerie ihren Wirkungskreis nun um ein eigenes Label erweitert, auf dem Musik erscheint, die aus ähnlichen Zusammenhängen und Sphären stammt, wie es die oben aufgezählten Künstler:innen bereits vermuten lassen.

Als Katalog-Nummer 1 veröffentlicht JUBG nun den offiziellen Soundtrack zu "The Painter" aus dem Jahr 2021. Der Film, deutscher Titel “Der Maler”, ist eine Mischung aus Spiel- und Dokumentarfilm und eine Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem deutschen Regisseur Oliver Hirschbiegel, vor allem bekannt für seinen Oscar-nominierten Film "Der Untergang", und Albert Oehlen, mit dem Hirschbiegel eine lange Freundschaft verbindet, studierten sie doch beide zusammen einst an der Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Hamburg.

Die Doku-Fiktion zeigt Oehlen, wie er mit einem Gemälde kämpft und über die Bedeutung seines Werks nachdenkt. Oehlen wird vom deutschen Schauspieler und Musiker Ben Becker gespielt und von der Stimme von Charlotte Rampling aus dem Off begleitet. Im Film erstellt Becker ein Gemälde, das Oehlen selbst hinter der Kamera Schritt für Schritt anfertigt, während der Schauspieler den Prozess wiederum vor der Kamera improvisiert.

Die wunderbare Musik zu diesem Film kommt von gleich zwei herausragenden Persönlichkeiten, die mit ihren individuellen Biographien und musikalischen Handschriften kaum besser zu diesem Projekt passen könnten. Auf der A-Seite ist dies Gudrun Gut, Ikone nicht nur der deutschen elektronischen Musikszene seit mindestens den 90er Jahren, Sängerin, Komponistin, DJ, Label-Betreiberin (Monika Enterprise) und natürlich Gründungsmitglied der legendären 80er Jahre New Wave-Band Malaria, auf der B-Seite der weltberühmte und Preisgekrönte US-amerikanische Avantgarde-Trompeter und Improvisationsmusiker Nathan “Nate” Wooley, der u.a. mit Fred Frith und John Zorn zusammengespielt hat.

Gudrun Gut’s Tracks tragen so schöne Titeln wie “Bewegung”, “Küste” oder “Weinen” und sie zieht hier einmal alle Register ihres großen Könnens und ihrer jahrzehntelangen Erfahrung als Produzentin der verschiedensten elektronischen Musikspielarten. Es sind ungewöhnliche und sehr viel experimentellere musikalische Gemälde, die sie hier entwirft als auf ihren jüngsten Solo-Werken. Kantig, eckig, roh und ungeschliffen und dabei immer elegant und schlau, unterläuft sie den im Film ausgiebig dargestellten männlichen Künstlerwahnsinn auf ihre ganz eigene Art und Weise.

Nathan Wooley antwortet mit dem ihm seit Kindesbeinen vertrauten Instrument, der Trompete, mit der er in der Lage ist, einen hinreißend virtuosen Lärm zu erzeugen. Seine Stücke sind eher Skizzen, oft nur 90 Sekunden oder ein paar wenige Minuten lang, die in all ihrer Abstraktheit das Narrativ des Films nahezu perfekt untermalen.

Eine auf insgesamt 20 Exemplare limitierte Edition, bemalt und signiert von Ben Becker, ist direkt über die JUBG zu erwerben.

On Beacon Hill: at twilight we find Anthony Moore, roots winding backwards to the halcyon days of Slapp Happy and the "70s progressive art rock scene, at guitar and piano. With the atmospheres and accompaniments of AKA & Friends, he breathes infernal new life into songs from his six decades of multivarious music making. This new delivery system is unto a séance, a communal incantation, twining Anthony"s avant and pop traditions together in a darkly radiant coil of folky chamber music; a rope to lower the listener through cobwebs and murk, unveiling new life beneath Anthony"s mad old lines. AKA are Anthony Moore, Keith Rodway and Amanda Thompson. A pagan family of sound worshipers hailing from that unholiest of all places: Hastings UK, home of Crowley and Turing. Like their sinister forbears in that infamous tradition, this latest trinity shares a passion for subverting pattern and number, factoring unlikely permutations arising from sea and horizon, greensward, the southerly aspect, and the planisphere as half-world. Their equatorial shore speaks of a planet of water and earth, fire and air. AKA"s humble tools of choice for this endeavor are guitar, piano, organ, synthesizer and vocals. The Friends of AKA are Tullis Rennie, trombone and electronics; Olie Brice, double bass; Richard Moore, violin; and Haydn Ackerley, guitar. They too navigate the shoreline of the south coast, haunt the same taverns and regularly play together in whatever combinations fit the bill. Leaving the drums (and their drummer) at home to realize anew these dreamladen songs, AKA & Friends ensure that the notes fall around the beat and not on it, so as to define the pulse with absence. As such, time is liberated, prised free from the merciless clock; a rhythm of waves, passing through a steady-state universe of no beginnings and no endings. Discontinuities are dissolved, all is transition.

Within the world of theatrical archives, there are the known, the unknown, the forgotten, and the lost. Demetrio Stratos' stage compositions for Teatro dell'Elfo's groundbreaking 1979 production Satyricon - directed by future Oscar winner Gabriele Salvatores - represents one such lost artifact now wondrously returned to life. This radical sonic work, integrating extended vocal techniques, Balinese instruments, and pioneering whale song recordings, stands as the final masterpiece of Italy's most visionary vocal experimenter, lost for over four decades until Die Schachtel's extraordinary recovery. As Stratos himself explained: "The musical operation performed on Satyricon is particular: the composer-musician here does not compose, but borrows ready-made music, vivisects it, melts it, intervenes and recomposes it on magnetic tape. The structure of the signifier, from a morphological point of view, presents itself as a conceptual collage." The music is obtained by utilizing compositions and musical elements from David Behrman, Joan La Barbara, Balinese Ketyak, Turkish Nay flute, Yugoslavian bagpipe, Pan flute, and whale song, with synthesizer interventions by Paolo Tofani. It began as part of something known - a wild, immersive theatrical event that inaugurated Teatro dell'Elfo's historic venue in 1979, was almost entirely forgotten, becoming lost and then unknown. The original production marked a radical departure for the company: no longer popular street theatre, but a dark, immersive, sophisticated spectacle that transformed their space into a rough wooden arena with a sand floor. Demetrio Stratos, working with Paolo Tofani (fellow Area member), created an entire sonic universe that subverted every conventional function of stage music. Their composition wasn't accompaniment, but autonomous sonic dramaturgy that integrated extended vocal techniques, archaic electronic elements, Nay flutes, Balinese instruments, and pioneering whale song recordings. The result was a three-dimensional soundscape that enveloped audiences, creating an otherworldly acoustic dimension. Stratos' score even intervened in the actors' vocal delivery, with the recordings capturing both the performance and his coaching sessions with the cast. The production featured young actors destined for fame - Elio De Capitani, Ferdinando Bruni, Cristina Crippa, Corinna Agustoni, Ida Marinelli - guided by Gabriele Salvatores in this adaptation of Petronius' ancient novel. Shortly after the Satyricon performances, Stratos was hospitalized for the condition that would lead to his death at just 33 years old. This work represents his final composition - a haunting farewell from one of Italy's most innovative sound artists. Die Schachtel presents this recovered work in collaboration with Teatro dell'Elfo, pulled from the original magnetic tape and carefully restored. Satyricon '79 is one of the great artifacts of 1970s Italian avant-garde - a wild, grinding sonic expose which sucks the ear into its depths, made in the spirit of collaboration and creative risk-taking. The edition includes critical apparatus with essays, testimonies from protagonists, and period photographic documentation, documenting an unrepeatable moment where theatre, vocal research and sonic experimentation converged. This release marks a poignant moment in experimental music history - Stratos' final work, now rescued from the archives and restored to its rightful place in the canon of Italian avant-garde masterpieces. A true wonder of towering historical importance. As essential as it gets for any fan of experimental music, or the history of the Italian avant-garde. Fully restored and newly mastered from the original analog tapes. Absolutely essential.

Cambridge’s acclaimed psych-folk quintet Fuzzy Lights return with their fifth album ‘Fen Creatures’. Following on from 2021’s critically lauded ‘Burials’ the band have created their most conceptually focussed work to date – a mediation on environmental crises that uses the folklore and history of East Anglia as a lens to examine humanity’s fractured relationship with the natural world.

The album operates across multiple historical timelines, from Iron Age hill forts to medieval plague houses, from Byron's Romantic-era environmental warnings to the immediate threat of rising sea levels, creating a temporal tapestry that weaves ancient stories with contemporary concerns.

Musically, the quintet, Rachel Watkins (vocals/violin), Xavier Watkins (guitar/electronics), Chris Rogers (guitar), Daniel Carney (bass), and Mark Blay (drums), have pushed deeper into experimental drone territories while maintaining the crystalline folk sensibilities that have become their signature.

Lead track ‘Greenteeth transforms the traditional cautionary tale of Jenny Greenteeth, the water spirit who lures children to their deaths. "When I read this story to my daughter, she was instantly drawn into it," Watkins notes. "There's something timeless about these tales and the way they speak to fundamental fears and connections that span generations."

Elsewhere, 'War Ditches' imagines the Iron Age dead of a Cambridge hill fort keeping watch over the land, their vigil ending as modern people lose connection with the earth. 'The Promise' creates an imaginary encounter with the ghosts of Landbeach village across multiple eras, connecting the 1665 plague with our recent pandemic experience through shared narratives of community resilience and loss.

Critics praised ‘Burials’ as "way beyond folk and folk in essence all at once" (Backseat Mafia) and "folk-rock looking back squarely at the early 1970s" (Financial Times), and 'Fen Creatures' promises to cement Fuzzy Lights' reputation as one of Britain's most vital contemporary folk acts. The album positions them firmly within the lineage of artists like Fairport Convention, Trees, and Comus who understood that engaging with tradition isn't nostalgic escapism, but a way of accessing older wisdoms about how to live in the world.

‘Burials’ press:

“...the musical battle between the fuzzy and the light makes Fuzzy Lights special.” MOJO ★★★★
“...a simmering, sinister undercurrent which often explodes with apocalyptic fervour.” SHINDIG ★★★★
“...subverting genre expectations and folk melodies.” FINANCIAL TIMES ★★★★
“Way beyond folk and folk in essence all at once, it's a record that’ll bring you much reward.” BACKSEATMAFIA - 8.3/10
“a genuine delight....a stirring and unsettling listen, goosebumps adding to the pleasure of timeless music played well, with perfect precision. Don’t leave it another eight years, eh?” FOLK RADIO
“...re-inventing the folk-rock playbook and dragging it screaming through an array of influences...Fuzzy Lights’ most unique, reflective and ambitious record to date” FOR THE RABBITS

Dan Bean is one half of The Transcendence Orchestra, alongside Anthony Child (aka Surgeon). Together they've released three albums on Editions Mego as well as an album on their own Old Technology imprint. Dan has also previously released a solo EP on Eyeless Records.

This debut solo album is deliberately composed and performed using only two instruments: a Roland TB-303 and a bass guitar. The point of this constraint was to try to force the creation of unexpected sounds from two very familiar bass instruments. The eight pieces gathered here succeed in doing so, featuring searing textures, unexpected melodic progressions and trance inducing repetitions. At times tender, these tracks remind us that even the most familiar or even overused instruments and ideas can be subverted and refreshed.

Four cuts of unapologetic, immediate Jungle that capture Tim Reaper’s frantic energy and Fracture’s deadly sonics — a perfect balance of aggression and detail. No holds barred, examined with a fine-tooth comb. Precision Pandemonium. Alongside the music, the collaboration extends to artwork, with each label’s iconic logo reimagined in the other’s style. This visual partnership spans the 12” label and sleeve design, as well as an extensive range of streetwear merch.

Fracture says:

I’ve known Ed for over 15 years, going back to the forum days of Subvert Central and Dogs On Acid. Even then, his approach to Jungle was authentic and compulsive. He’s stayed on that path with unwavering focus, never chasing trends—just pure, raw Jungle. What he’s built with Future Retro London is so desperately needed in this day and age: a space where music and community come first, shining a light on artists and DJs often overlooked by mainstream channels that favour gimmicks. His passion for Jungle is infectious, and I’ve always wanted to work with him so doing a full label collaboration feels completely right. Working with Ed is a real eye opener - he’s so full of ideas and the speed at which he can generate patterns is scary. Watching him fly around his laptop, chopping breaks and writing basslines is like watching a Grandmaster play speed chess—always on, never off. Shout out Tim Reaper each and every. An incredible DJ as well.

Tim Reaper says:

I think this is probably the longest ever I've spent on any release for Future Retro London, clocking in at just over 3 years of back & forth between me & Fracture in the making of this. There's a lot of backstory behind this project, so excuse my ramblings below.

The story starts with me hearing Sully playing a tune by Fracture called "Booyaka Style" which I really liked and thought would be great to release. I reached out to Fracture about it and found out later that he already made plans to include it on an album project (0860) that he was working on at the time which later came out on his label Astrophonica. He asked if I would be up for sending him any tunes to be considered for release on Astrophonica, but in response to this, I suggested a joint label project that both of us would have tunes on & he seemed keen to do it.
Few months later, I got back in touch to ask if he had done any tracks for this release but he was still busy with other things and instead sent me a track he had been working on, with the suggestion of us collaborating on it. We finished a track together that we both liked & felt as if it was a good starting point for the release. We then got a few more collabs done with a fair bit of back & forth, but upon reflection, he felt as if they could be a lot better than what they currently were and so, the release started to change in format a bit. Fracture suggested that we should meet up in his studio and work on some tunes together in person, with the aim of getting a few bits done over a bunch of sessions and getting it all sorted out in a much quicker timeline. Thankfully, this actually worked, we managed to get some collabs done that both of us are very happy with (even managing to sample a recording of Blackeye from a set from a Future Retro London event!)

Thanks to Fracture for his co-operation & perseverance with this release, helping to see it through to the end & not allowing it to be anything less than the best possible version of itself, thanks to Mark at Sequence for his role in helping with the logistics/manufacture of this release, thanks to Utile for assisting on the design on this release and most importantly, a very special thanks to all the obstacles along the way that I faced in the making of this release, which helped me appreciate getting to this point so much more than I ever could have!

Classic black 2LP in gatefold! "Her darkest, heaviest and most personal album yet . . . a haunting, doomy exercise in loud-quiet dynamics." Rolling Stone Sleep paralysis plagues singer/songwriter Chelsea Wolfe, and that strange intersection of the conscious and the unconscious has inadvertently manifested itself within her work. Across the span of her first four albums, there is an underlying tension, a distorted and nebulous territory where dark shadows hover along the edges of the sublime and the graceful. But until now, Wolfe's trials and tribulations with the boundaries between dreams and reality have only been a subconscious influence on her work. With her fifth album, Abyss, she deliberately confronts those boundaries and crafts a score to that realm she describes as the "hazy afterlife. an inverted thunderstorm. the dark backward. the abyss of time." Chelsea Wolfe's material has always felt intensely private, from the almost voyeuristic bedroom-production aesthetic of her debut album The Grime and the Glow to the stark themes and atmospheres of 2013's Pain Is Beauty. "Abyss is meant to have the feeling of when you're dreaming, and you briefly wake up, but then fall back asleep into the same dream, diving quickly into your own subconscious," says Wolfe. To conjure this in-between world, Wolfe continued her ongoing collaboration with multi-instrumentalist and co-writer Ben Chisholm and drummer Dylan Fujioka, with Ezra Buchla brought on board to play viola and Mike Sullivan (Russian Circles) enlisted to contribute guitar. The ensemble traveled to Dallas, TX to record with producer John Congleton (Swans, St. Vincent). In the back of her mind burned the words of designer Yohji Yamamoto: "Perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion." The resulting eleven songs reflect that philosophy as they smoulder with human frailty, intimacy, quiet passion, anxiety, and deep longing. "Sleep and dream issues have followed me my whole life," remarks Wolfe as she revisits notes from the writing and recording sessions. In a way, these issues have become a part of Chelsea Wolfe's identity, for whom the notion of sleep as an escape has been subverted. Abyss captures this dichotomy, this battle between the soothing and the upsetting, and demonstrates why Chelsea Wolfe has become one of the most intriguing songwriters of the decade.

"Amazing! Like stumbling on a treasure-trove of unheard Charlie Patton and Blind Willie McTell 78s, but imbued with the spirit of Mahlathini and Ladysmith." Joe Boyd

'But for this compilation of rescued songs masterfully restored from rare 78 rpm shellacs, few could imagine the diversely beautiful roots of Zulu Guitar Music emerging during the period 1950 – 1965. Story-tellers and master musicians appropriate outlaw personae, re-purpose country and western, Hawaiian and other styles, to stretch and challenge our notion of “the Zulu guitar”.

Twenty-five songs (18 on vinyl) plunge us into the depths of the migrant experience. Translations in the liner notes offer us glimpses of pugnacity, melancholy and heartache, all coloured by the paternalism that circumscribed the singers’ apartheid-dominated lives.

The early *mbaqanga* undertow in many of the songs subverts the wanderlust of Country and Western music into a fugitivity burdened by nostalgia. Something irretrievable has been lost, prompting a blending of ideas and cultures to make sense through thankless acts of musical divination. Inadvertently they have been thrust into the role of the antihero, where outwitting competition for lovers is as important as evading the Black Jacks (apartheid’s municipal cops) and their informants.

Considering the politically repressive period that this music emerges from, we can surmise that the specificity in the storytelling went a long way towards evading censure. But even when words are absent, there is a narrative arc suggested by the musical expression.

With most of the master tapes wilfully destroyed or lost, modern transcription and restoration techniques from the original shellac discs present the original sound most likely more clearly than ever heard before.'

Produced for reissue by Chris Albertyn and Matt Temple at Matsuli Music and Siemon Allen at Flatinternational.
Artwork design by Siemon Allen.
Liner note and translations by Kwanele Sosibo.
Audio restoration and lacquers by Frank Merritt at The Carvery and pressed at Pallas, Germany.
Original 78rpm recordings sourced from the collections of Chris Albertyn at Matsuli Music, and Siemon Allen at the Flatinternational Archive.

‘Zeitgeist’, the debut LP from celebrated Italian electronic music producer Dukwa, begins with a timeless dancefloor equation; swung drums, a clattering cobwell and flickering hi-hats lurch forward into a serious bassline. Within seconds, dancers are flung into the house anthem ‘You Don’t Want It’ that’s equally raw and charismatic, sensual and powerful. For the next forty-five minutes of rhythm, melody and studio trickery, ‘Zeitgeist’ continues to bend time, eras and bodies.

Having released EPs on respected labels including Numbers, Gudu and Diynamic Records, invariably with the support of Jackmaster, Peggy Gou and Solomun, Dukwa folds into the Slacker85 philosophy with ease, laying down a statement of intent that’s squarely for the dancers. Indebted to a youth digging in Florence’s record stores, embracing the peerless Italian rave scene, as well as his recent appearances at Circoloco and Kappa Future, ‘Zeitgeist’ subverts it’s knowing title to dance between styles with an urgency you can feel in your heels.

Before long, Dukwa is smoothly oscillating between acid overdrive and weightless house on ‘Catch All’, while the balance between softness and severity is refined even further on ‘Show Me’, showcasing the record’s first euphoric breakdown, a heads down, hands up moment that sacrifices none of his organic flow. Ably mastering many corners of his record box, ‘Avec Moi’ makes a confident left turn into tunneling trance, interspersed with a sensual french vocal.

‘All You Need’ provides the record’s beating heart, Dukwa’s overarching philosophy front and center around layers of synthesised groove, build and release: “The world is full of fighting, ignorance and greed, but right here on the dancefloor - the rhythm’s all you need”. Meanwhile, ‘My Turn’ channels more cinematic instincts, zoning in on an elegant piano riff in order to unravel a quietly epic deep house trip.

As ‘Zeitgeist’ heads toward its conclusion, Dukwa effortlessly squeezes the most emotive juice from his well-oiled studio. ‘Sad Eyes’ possesses the emotional punch of many vintage end-of-night anthems, still driving yet touched with a wistful ecstasy. Finally, for closing passage ‘Stck1’, Dukwa truly lets the machines sing, capturing a brief symphony of harmonising modulations that dip into weirdo electronica, without ever skipping his signature beats.

Ziúr lines up with The Tapeworm for an exclusive cassette-only release featuring Kenichi Iwasa, exploring the electroacoustic realms.

Invited to perform solo at Tarek Atoui's performance series at Kunsthaus Bregenz in October 2024, Ziúr decided to write a new piece for the occasion. This composition, 'Turn Liquid Into Dust', was then performed within the framework of Tarek Atoui's 'Waters' Witness' exhibition as an 8-channel spacial audio piece, transmitting sounds through the installation's structure – metal bars, stones, compost piles… Composed in London in autumn 2024, its principal source of sonic material is recordings of Atoui's instruments which Ziúr had recorded in his studio in Paris during the summer of 2024. In addition, she invited the Japanese woodwind player and virtuoso Kenichi Iwasa to join on all pieces, his contribution providing a binding element, tying the pieces together.

Opener 'A Cold Drip' consists solely of Iwasa's spectral squalls. The tense noir drone of 'Long Call' features a string instrument built by Atoui. For the airy yet dense title track, Ziúr recorded an organ named The Reed Box, with Iwasa floating atop its smoggy soundbed. Closer 'Chips 'n' Crumbles' echos and reverberates with the rattles of household items Ziúr found around her home.

Driven by a relentless appetite for boundless experimentation, Ziúr has been subverting expectations since she was a teenager, corkscrewing through hardcore, metal and punk before veering towards electronic music's turbulent fringes. She produces just like she DJs, gathering a wide variety of ingredients and figuring out the most intriguing, unexpected ways to simmer them into a coherent narrative that helps listeners synchronize the conflicting messages that surround them. Genre isn't a fixed point for Ziúr, but a colour in a vast palette that stretches across history and borders, helping illustrate music that's powerfully subversive. Her The Tapeworm edition follows acclaimed recordings for Planet Mu, PAN, Objects Limited and Hakuna Kulala.

Kenichi Iwasa is a London-based improviser and multidisciplinary artist from Japan, also known for his legendary Krautrock Karaoke night as well as collaborations with visual artists and musicians such as Beatrice Dillon, Maxwell Sterling and Linder Sterling. He currently performs with Naima Karlsson under the name Exotic Sin.

Wellen.Brecher is an electronic band with punk attitude, which has been transcending and subverting electronic music genre boundaries for the past 6 years. After the release of Tierisch Verboten, which can confidently be described as the "soundtrack to inclusion", and a strong second release on our label Killekill, LIEBESERKLARUNG is the band's first full length album. Including a series of first-class remixes.
Refreshingly, the entire release is not based on the corny bad trance traditions loved by contemporary Buffalo shoe wearers. Instead - intentionally or not - it follows a series of almost historical musical quotations from over the last 40 years with each track on the album feeling like a new adventure.
The album opens with TUROFFNER, which has a kind of an Afrika Bambaataa intro, before turning into a wonderfully tresoresque/Detroit techno beast, always commented on or counteracted by the vocals - just like (almost) all the tracks on the album: a new round, a new crazy ride - bumper car lyrics on a powerful stomping reduction of a 90s track.
From here we leap backwards in time into grey West Berlin of the 80s with ROBOT GIRL which shifts and drifts like a bug in buttermilk somewhere between Grauzone and Alan Vega. Next track KAPUTT kicks in with a bang and smashes everything in the best EBM tradition - this could have been played in a techno club in Frankfurt, both in terms of lyrics and sound. Line up for Elektropogo please!
After all the stomping Wellen.Brecher bring in something completely different with VOICE OF A GENERATION: dramatic vocals over delicate breaks which gradually dissolve into arpeggios on a high-quality trance carpet. Challenge complete!
JULIA takes us back to the late eighties in the dark but fun Belgian-Detroit early trance with new beat appeal. TUNNEL TRANCE would have been a good fit for dancing around the Berlin Siegessaule in, let's say, 1998. Relentless 4/4 beats with a hook-line on speed surrounded by acidophilic bows and, on top, the vocal commentary arriving as if from the man behind the glass of the Ferris wheel. In
your mind's eye, you can see fur-shoed gym ravers in bright neon jumping through the Tiergarten like rubber balls. The cover version of the classic TECHNO DJ is an hommage to good old punk - torn apart and reassembled in true Wellen.Brecher style. The closer TIERISCH VERBOTEN brings all the emotion rushing back: fat beats beckon slowly from afar, before the curtain comes up for an epic synth finale.
The harsh, albeit true words really drive you in. It's not necessary, but perhaps it's good to point it out: Inclusion can easily be experienced with music like this. Fuck AfD!

Wellen.Brecher is an electronic band with punk attitude, which has been transcending and subverting electronic music genre boundaries for the past 6 years. After the release of Tierisch Verboten, which can confidently be described as the "soundtrack to inclusion", and a strong second release on our label Killekill, LIEBESERKLARUNG is the band's first full length album. Including a series of first-class remixes.
Refreshingly, the entire release is not based on the corny bad trance traditions loved by contemporary Buffalo shoe wearers. Instead - intentionally or not - it follows a series of almost historical musical quotations from over the last 40 years with each track on the album feeling like a new adventure.
The album opens with TUROFFNER, which has a kind of an Afrika Bambaataa intro, before turning into a wonderfully tresoresque/Detroit techno beast, always commented on or counteracted by the vocals - just like (almost) all the tracks on the album: a new round, a new crazy ride - bumper car lyrics on a powerful stomping reduction of a 90s track.
From here we leap backwards in time into grey West Berlin of the 80s with ROBOT GIRL which shifts and drifts like a bug in buttermilk somewhere between Grauzone and Alan Vega. Next track KAPUTT kicks in with a bang and smashes everything in the best EBM tradition - this could have been played in a techno club in Frankfurt, both in terms of lyrics and sound. Line up for Elektropogo please!
After all the stomping Wellen.Brecher bring in something completely different with VOICE OF A GENERATION: dramatic vocals over delicate breaks which gradually dissolve into arpeggios on a high-quality trance carpet. Challenge complete!
JULIA takes us back to the late eighties in the dark but fun Belgian-Detroit early trance with new beat appeal. TUNNEL TRANCE would have been a good fit for dancing around the Berlin Siegessaule in, let's say, 1998. Relentless 4/4 beats with a hook-line on speed surrounded by acidophilic bows and, on top, the vocal commentary arriving as if from the man behind the glass of the Ferris wheel. In
your mind's eye, you can see fur-shoed gym ravers in bright neon jumping through the Tiergarten like rubber balls. The cover version of the classic TECHNO DJ is an hommage to good old punk - torn apart and reassembled in true Wellen.Brecher style. The closer TIERISCH VERBOTEN brings all the emotion rushing back: fat beats beckon slowly from afar, before the curtain comes up for an epic synth finale.
The harsh, albeit true words really drive you in. It's not necessary, but perhaps it's good to point it out: Inclusion can easily be experienced with music like this. Fuck AfD!

“Eerie, wailing sounds over distorted feedback drones… Vibrato-heavy harmonies chirrup and throb in agonisingly slow motion.”
The Guardian, Album of the Month

“Cinematic...carefully orchestrated...delicately explores unfamiliar territory with uncanny finesse.”
The Wire

Acclaimed Icelandic theremin musician Hekla returns with Turnar, her third album of devastatingly heavy, spectral soundscape-songwriting, entering a sublime paranormal plane of haunting dread.

Now augmenting her virtuosic solo theremin work with cello, voice, and the sacred church organ of Icelandic master Kristján Hrannar, the evolution of Hekla’s unique magic summons new worlds with Turnar. The album was recorded partly in (and named after) a medieval castle tower in rural France, its ruinous black broken in spare beams of angelic stained-glass light. But, writes Hekla, “the sound of theremin kind of opens up a portal into a new realm that both looks into a dark old world and to the future.” The record is an alternately beautiful and crushing space voyage into a glacial underworld cascading with phosphorescence and cave drip, conjuring ancient choral ritual just as readily as redolent sci-fi gloam.

Opener “Inni” begins with swooning and shimmering lines of theremin that shiver with electrified energy before subfrequency bass elevates them into a glowing plasma, hovering above a crystallised surf. Key moment “Gráminn” wails with ghostly harmonics while distorted drones crash together in a stormy and blackened netherworld sea. It traces a neat progression from Hekla’s last album - the acclaimed Xiuxiuejar - while also welcoming an expanded timbral palette and flourishing compositional confidence. At the end of side A, “Var” delicately places sonic artefacts about a desolate negative space, creating a dense inverse gravity. As with the rest of the record, a claustrophobic gauze hangs over music that could otherwise be called subverted songwriting, aligning Hekla’s sonics with avant-garde, musique concréte and sound-art.

Warehouse Find!

A Ron Wells classic intended for release in 2020 and delayed for various reasons including moving factory and our original stampers getting recycled.

This release is sourced from mint vinyl as the original masters are long gone, we have carefully restored and remastered this classic release while retaining all the character of the original. Remastering is by Bob Macc @ Subvert Central Mastering. You can be assured the tracks sound fantastic but do not suffer from the Loudness Wars while still holding their own when mixed with modern productions.

NYC duo Straw Man Army return with their third LP, “Earthworks”, to complete a trilogy of records begun with 2020’s “Age of Exile,” and 2022’s “SOS”. Whereas “Age of Exile” dealt with the haunted landscapes of colonial history in the Americas, and “SOS” gave voice to a crisis of the present moment, like a prayer in bewildering times, 2024’s “Earthworks” signals the band’s attempt to close this trilogy by turning their gaze towards the future, where paradox, complexity and contradiction spiral in ascendance to an agonizing pitch. While continuing to develop their own style of anarcho-punk, “Earthworks” finds the band pulling once again from jazz and ambient influences, expanded Krautrock rhythms, and post-rock experiments, with a stronger emphasis on melodic vocals and varied song structures than on previous offerings. Taking cues from the wistful anti-war harmonies of The Byrds and the angry melodies of Zounds, tracks like “Turn the Wheel” and “Second Nature” mark new territory for a group whose messages and methods of experimentation have merged to form a singular sound equally at home on All the Madmen Records or in the spiritual legacy of ESP Disk. “Earthworks” is an album that holds and subverts many contradictions—juggling the weight of melancholy, grief, guilt, impunity, and the yearning for clarity against the backdrop of boiling wrath; the wrath of nature, the occupied, the dispossessed, and of the mind against itself. To quote the track “Spiral” — “Is this all that’s left for us these days? / Apathy and rage?”— Straw Man Army offers this record as a companion to our frustration, our sickness, our despair, and a lifeline for our fugitive attention in the struggle for peace.

The dark lord of the dance returns to Sneaker with the 'No Favours' EP, another ominous set of non-conformist shellers rough-cut from obsidian and set in steel.

We first broadcast our love of Christoph de Babalon's distinctively destructive, hard-boiled hardcore via the Evident Ware compilation back in 2020, but a longer release has been an ambition of ours ever since. From his early years on Digital Hardcore through his prolific return in the 2010s across a broad tapestry of underground operators, de Babalon has left a fascinating trail of albums, EPs and scattershot tracks behind him that feed into the cult fervour around his music.

As this EP demonstrates in reliably gritty fashion, the magic in the German producer's music lies in his ability to take the tropes of jungle and hardcore and subvert them through signal chains which owe more to noise and industrial than dance music. The structure of his tracks is equally maverick, pushing and pulling according to its own whims rather than following the dancer-centric energetic flow of a standard club record. Somewhere in this alchemy between classic ingredients and confrontational experimentation, he evokes the original chaotic spirit of hardcore when it seemed anything was possible within the music.

'For Nothing' is the perfect example — a tunnelling odyssey of ferrous atmospheres, roundhouse drums and bass bloated into the red on a force-fed diet of saturation. 'Total Deceit' turns up the pressure on the break chopping science de Babalon is capable of, teasing gamelan flurries and elegiac swirls that hit at the emotional depth he can wrench amidst such bludgeoning material. 'Jaded Memory' funnels Mentasm bass into a strange new form amidst staggering, tightly clipped drumfunk, leaving enough space for haunting ballroom reveries stretching out across the mid-section. That leaves it to 'Dearth Mill' to mop up with gloriously creepy detuned piano notes slopping over each other in between the most ferocious blasts of drums on the whole record.

You didn't expect something straight-forward, did you?

In 2007 an Italian film festival invites Mouse on Mars to score a film of their choice. The organizers claim to be able to clear the rights for any movie the band chooses. Werner Herzog’s fictional documentary Fata Morgana, which merges footage of several desert explorations by Herzog and his team into one continuous association, has long been a band’s favorite. The film comes with a soundtrack by Mozart, Leonard Cohen, Third Ear Band and field recordings. Andi Toma and Jan St. Werner are sent a DVD to Düsseldorf and start working. The idea is to score the film in real time so instrumentation has to be readily at hand: guitar, percussion, electronics, mouth harp, pedals, software, tapes, samplers. Once the arrangement for the three-part film is sorted Mouse on Mars bring their score to stage. Herzog Sessions is performed twice: first when the band still thought the rights had been cleared, and a second time at London’s Southbank Center knowing that Herzog would have never approved a new score.

--

Mouse On Mars – London Queen Elizabeth Hall soundtracking Werner Herzog.
By Mike Diver, 24.04.2009

Filmed in 1971, Fata Morgana is perhaps not one of Herzog’s best-known works (think Grizzly Man, Rescue Dawn, et cetera…), but then Mouse on Mars have never been ones to embrace the mainstream, quietly letting their modern, experimental take on krautrock do the talking over the years, thus producing some quietly brilliant electronica that far outweighs their modest profile.

The film itself is not altogether dissimilar to the wonderful, Phillip Glass-scored Koyaanisqatsi, with sweeping landscape shots and no obvious plot or narrative, though Fata is concentrated purely in one place – in and around the Sahara Desert, switching from images of barren wasteland to desert tribes and dead, skeletal cattle.

The obvious thing to do when soundtracking such powerful imagery is to vie for dreamy electronic soundscapes which can be sustained for a long period, and whilst this ambient shoegaze approach was present and correct (also carefully constructed and highly effective), Mouse on Mars added a human element to the performance, incorporating a live dimension by using and looping guitars, harmonicas, processed vocals and even a live horn player (quite possibly a flugelhorn. Look it up if you don’t believe me) for the final section of the film.

Some of the most interesting points arose when the duo suddenly switched from solemn, ambient tones to glitchy, bouncing electro (reminiscent of their more upbeat work) whilst on the same film shot – causing the audience mood to flick from tripped-out bliss to attentive semi-wired, utterly subverting any idea of a narrative the film may have possessed. Clever stuff.

Ranging from sinister to surreal to humorous, all the moods portrayed in Fata Morgana were successfully matched by Mouse on Mars’ live rescore – no mean feat. The duo also went above and beyond the call of duty with their own soundtrack, adding a fascinating personal signature to an already unique film.