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Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Described by Steve Lamacq as “so elegant and haunted, in an almost gothic way, but with that bass momentum of proper post-punk”. This is the debut album from bloody/bath. 10 tracks inspired by the unsettling sounds of horror soundtracks, early 2000’s indie rock guitar lines and mental illness, ‘In An Empty Space, I’m Screaming’ is as anthemic and cathartic as it is eerie. Produced by Matt Peel (Yard Act, WH Lung, Dream Wife, Divorce, Eagulls), the record is dissonant post-punk filtered through a myriad of sonic palettes. Lead single ‘Suffering’ evokes catchy indie rock while opener ‘Strangling of the Dog’ finds itself firmly in the harsher edges of the genre. The album also features ‘Idle Hands’ which was championed by Iggy Pop and played on BBC Radio 6Music by Iggy, Steve Lamacq and Lauren Laverne. This limited edition vinyl on translucent red with black smoke marble is limited to only 100 distro copies. Link to Soundcloud tracks - ‘Strangling of the Dog’, ‘Heather’ and ‘Unholy Cross II’

Over two decades of toil have passed, the aeon of the end was declared, the parasitic wisdom gained, and the formula of undoing achieved. MITOCHONDRION awoke from a deep, dreamless slumber, and after 11 agonizing years, pried loose from the Cronian clutches to integrate the suffering once again. The singular death metal entity has prepared in cloistered meditation to ascend the peak and proselytize the harrowing word once more.

The new MITOCHONDRION album “Vitriseptome”, released almost 14 years after the band’s last full-length “Parasignosis” is an axe head the size of the known universe brought down with frightening force to sever the neck of all creation. Forged and fermented with the blood, sweat, and bile over a decade from conception to completion: This Great Work nearly took the life of all involved, leaving all to question the true meaning of Death: enantiodromian obeisance to the Abraxan force under Saturn's guise.

This double album is overloaded and unbearable: Pour in what little life you have remaining to be pulverized, conflagrated, calcified, fermented, and purified.

“Vitriseptome” is 11 Alchemical Death Metal works, split over 17 tracks, to form a trilogy of 3 parts, in two phases, which elapses nearly 90 minutes in length.

The Wild Classical Music Ensemble is a Belgian experimental rock band formed in 2007 by artists with mental disability within the social-artistic non-profit organisation Wit.h in Kortrijk. Their unique sound is a blend of punk/rock riffs, fanatical rhythms and soaring flutes and fiery synths, over which gravitate multiple, multilingual voices that scratch harshly as much as they comfort. There's something very Belgian about this harshness and noisiness. We often think of compadre Arno, from the TC Matic era. During the Covid crisis, the disabled members of the Wild Classical Music Ensemble were undoubtedly subjected more than others to the harsh conditions of confinement, alone in their rooms. Damien Magnette was still able to visit them with sound equipment. This was one of their all-too-few windows onto the world. Forbidden to meet, let alone play together, the members of Wild were nevertheless able to compose songs in tandem with Damien. The tracks were then sent to musician friends - Fabrice Gilbert, Ava Carrère, Wim Opbrouck, Shht, Arthur Satàn, Nathan Roche and Julien ZLDR - who added their artistic touch. Jean Lamoot and Carl Roosens joined the adventure, one as mixer, the other as video director. It's a result of the conditions under which it was created, this is the band's most highly-produced album, and perhaps its most accessible: frankly rock, with a great deal of freedom in production, and sometimes with a certain pop allure. Jean Lamoot's contribution to the mix had a lot to do with it. In addition, the forced slowdown allowed us to devote much more time and attention to writing the lyrics. Leader Damien Magnette says: "For over a year, we were all confined. But what about when you're a mentally handicapped person? Well, it's very different from you and me... We have the right to choose, the luxury of deciding for ourselves what rules we want to follow or not. We have free will. They don't. This series of confined songs is dedicated to all the people who have gone through this crisis, deprived of their free will. We send them our thoughts, hugs and kisses full of true love! The songs respond to a deep desire to look out for each other in adversity (the so obvious "Comment ça va?" by Johan Geenens and Wim Opbrouck, or "Waarom ben je boos" by Sébastien Faidherbe with Wim Decoene, the latter full of empathy). A sense of loneliness is logically present on the album ("Dat is mijn verdriet" by Linh Pham, a very real, very concrete and particularly touching poem, or "Loneliness", whose text was improvised by Wim), if not an understandable rage ("Je ne veux pas" and "My Frustrations"). It worth noting that on "On reste heureux", Sébastien Faidherbe composed all the parts in one go, with an optimism that stands out from the anger expressed in his other songs. Let's make no mistake: none of this is really over. All these emotions, suffering, pain and hope, speak to us far beyond this grim story of covid.

Upper Space is the new album from beloved Hip Hop DJ/Producer/turntablist, Rude One. Upper Space was sparked when Rude suffered a serious burn out from his day job in NYC's ultra high-end interior design world. Moonwalking out of that life, and away from a $250k income, he retreated to a small apartment in downtown Cincinnati where he attended every Cincinnati Reds home game for a full baseball season. The remainder of his time was spent utilizing hallucinogens, running long distances, talking to his cats, writing short stories, and making beats that would ultimately pave the foundation for this project. Upper Space is comprised of 9 songs featuring Rude's hand-crafted production specifically tailored for a select list of collaborators such as Valee, Stove God Cooks, Jeremiah Jae, Roc Marciano, RXKNephew, YNOT DUSABLE and more. Upper Space is the official follow-up to Rude’s 2016 LP, ONEderful, which featured Your Old Droog, Westside Gunn, Roc Marciano, and Conway The Machine ahead of their stints as leaders of a stylistic shift in Hip Hop. Upper Space will be out via Closed Sessions on October 18th, 2024.

Artist, composer and producer James William Blades" score Pare De Sufrir will be released via AD 93. Today Blades will be releasing a preview of the album with the single Alma Germela. Pare De Sufrir (translating to "End of Suffering") is the official soundtrack to A.G Rojas" film of the same title.

The Funeral Portrait stands to represent the outcasts from all walks of life. The misunderstood, the weird, neurodivergent, LGBTQ+, marginalised or otherwise given an unfair hand in life. To offer a sense of community, a place to belong and a space where they can feel safe and accepted for their differences. The band members all grew up as 'the weird kid' who was saved by music and alternative culture, so they now feel obligated to return this favour to the younger generation. This message is shouted to the masses through their over-the-top theatrics and dramatic, almost blown out presentation. The Funeral Portrait believes in the power of Devotion to their Music and to their unwavering fanbase, The Coffin Crew. The ritual is beginning and they want everyone involved. Join them to share your devoutness; excuses for not attending are forbidden.

After a near decade spent in obscurity, Peter Cat Recording Co. or PCRC, emerged from the toxic winter smog of Delhi to enter the global Krishna consciousness with the release of 2019's "Bismillah", the culmination of years of refining their unique vision of 21st century pop music. Seeking a transcultural sound, centered around the song writing of Suryakant Sawhney, PCRC's music mines ideas from both time and space, across centuries and continents, extracting and transforming them into modern hymns and timeless folk, something you could perhaps imagine hearing in the holo-deck of a ship from Star Trek. As the name suggests, Peter Cat Recording Co. is less a band and more of a self-sufficient factory of music and art. With 3 potent song writers in Suryakant, Dhruv & Kartik, the group is building a legacy informed and echoing the spirit of groups like The Velvet Underground and The Beatles. The next chapter of this entity began with the announcement of their new album, "BETA", a name inspired by the birth of Karan Singh's son. PCRC is Suryakant Sawhney on vocals and guitars, Karan Singh on drums, Dhruv Bhola on bass and samples, Rohit Gupta on keys, horns and woodwind, and Kartik Sundareshan on guitars, horns and woodwind.

Saint of the Pit, Diamanda Galás" fifth studio album and the second in her trilogy, The Masque of the Red Death, is an urgent record. Its theme is essentially passion, in the sense of suffering, although here, and unlike the passion of Christianity, there is little to offer solace. Re-released on Galás" own Intravenal Sound Operations (ISO) after its initial release on Mute in November 1986, Saint of the Pit is a masterpiece of witness - ing, forged from grief and fury during the HIV-AIDS epidemic. While its precursor, The Divine Punishment (originally via Mute, now ISO), released only five months before in June 1986, invoked Old Testament laws around the clean and the unclean, as a way of raging against the inhumanity of systemic neglect of people with HIV-AIDS, this album is focussed on a more interior response.

Zum 20-jährigen Jubiläum erscheint das Debüt-Album einer der erfolgreichsten Indie-Pop- Bands der 00er Jahre erstmals auch auf Vinyl. 2004 waren Schubladen noch wichtig. Popmusik war noch nicht dieses eklektizistische, sich aus universell verfügbaren, entkontextualisierten Quellen speisende Internet-Monster. Wer also beispielsweise deutschsprachigen Gitarrenpop spielte, musste sich positionieren: Bewegte man sich eher in der diskursverliebten, kopflastigen Tradition der Hamburger Schule und hoffte auf "Indie-Credibilität"? Oder wollte man Teil der immer größer werdenden Deutschpop-Industrie werden, vornehmlich repräsentiert von "female fronted" Bands wie Mia, Juli oder Silbermond (nicht zu vergessen die stets gut gelaunten Jungs von von Sportfreunde Stiller), die - mal mit eher studentisch-intellektueller Grundierung, mal mit eindeutig schlagerhafter Geste - das Gefühlige in den Focus rückten. Es gab aber auch Acts, die sich nicht entscheiden wollten. Auf der Insel hatten es die Bands der Britpop-Welle schließlich vorgemacht. Hier ging es mit cooler Haltung, jeder Menge Subversion, aber eben auch goldenen Melodien und echten "Hits" in höchste Popstar-Gefilde. Wieso nicht auch in Deutschland Anspruch, Originalität und Gefälligkeit miteinander in Einklang bringen? Hier kommen nun also Anajo ins Spiel, eine 1999 gegründete Band aus dem provinziellen Augsburg, die 2004 mit ihrem Debüt-Album "Nah bei mir" genau diesen Sprung zwischen die Stühle wagte - und dafür mit sehr viel Liebe bedacht wurde, auch wenn die Indiepolizei nicht immer einverstanden war. "Nah bei mir" ist eine durch und durch leichte Platte, die mit catchy Sounds und Melodien bisweilen gewichtige Themen verhandelt: Überwindung tiefer Trauer ("Der Vorhang geht auf"), Entfremdung ("Einmal noch schlafen"), bittere Enttäuschung ("Die Tränen sind immer noch meine") - immer aber präsentiert mit einem süffisanten Lächeln auf den Lippen. Als wahre Meister beweisen sich Anajo auf dem Album in der schwierigen Disziplin der unblöden Partysongs: Auch nach 20 Jahren überkommt einen beim Hören so skurril-absurder Feger wie "Monika Tanzband", "Honigmelone" oder "Ich hol dich hier raus" noch diese unbändige, mitreißende Freude.

180g vinyl + Silver Pantone print (Featuring a fragment from 'The Myth' (1896), a painting by Jos Dirks)

"agony, anguish, bitterness, despair, grief, heartache, pain,
remorse, sorrow, suffering, torment, woe. Another heartbreak album that is totally worth all of it."

The highly anticipated album from LAWRENCE is finally here and 15 years after the CD release for the first time available on vinyl!!!

Hamburg based DIAL and SMALLVILLE owner Peter Kersten aka LAWRENCE is one of the most valued and highly regarded artist's in the modern dance music community with a long history of releases on Nova Mute, Kompakt, Ladomat, Spectral, Ghostly, Mule and of course his own imprint DIAL. UNTIL THEN, GOODBYE kicks off with a special 'intro' version of a fan favourite FRIDAY'S CHILD followed by the introspective ambient piece SUNRISE. GREY LIGHT remarks the electronic style of DRUTTI COLUMN while JILL is purely sweet slow house music. The album shifts towards more acoustic driven material with songs such as FATHER UMBRILLO and TODERHAUSEN BLUES…don't fret purists as LAWRENCE hits back with his classic signature sounds with the likes of IN YOUR EYES, SLEEP and SUFFER. LAWRENCE leaves us with a whisper in the most beautiful of ways. The atmospheric ambient tune DON'T FOLLOW ME, the ebb and flow of the piano driven A NEW DAY and the title track leave the listener in a state of bliss. Dare we say, this is one of LAWRENCE's most daring and diverse albums to date…not necessarily a 'concept' album per say but definitely showcases his gift for provoking a remarkably diverse range of musical influences and styles.

'When Southern Lord picked up and re-released their 2010 debut LP Unsilent Death after its smaller first pressing sold out, they offered a comparison of 90s AmRep bands and early Cro-Mags going faster than either. That sort of works. So does Eyehategod's songbook played by 2013 Converge. This music is more suffocating than it is Suffocation; it also pulls largely from hardcore and comes with plenty of raw emotion attached to it.'' PITCHFORK

After a handful of EPs and a Long Player, Athens CHAIN CULT are back, and bring more post-punk angst. Their 2nd album continues the ideas of their previous releases, but in a much more thoughtful and crafted manner. Indeed, the production has stepped up and the result is an album that surpasses any of their previous work. A precise rhythm section overlaid by a dreamy soundscape of cleverly interwoven guitar work frames catchy anthems which depict an inner anguish or the collateral damage we all suffer from our capitalist hellscape, or both. Imagine listening to THE CHAMELEONS or THE SOUND but you wished for a harder edge, more direct, more straight, and a more punk take on things. Then Harm Reduction is what you need. Both singles of the album come accompanied by videos to be hosted at LVEUM YouTube Channel. An album to be listened to over and over; an apt accompaniment to watching the world burn

Die britischen Hardrocker Doomsday Outlaw präsentieren ihre beiden Alben "Suffer More" (2016, Frontiers) und "Hard Times" (2018, Frontiers) in neu abgemischten, remasterten REDUX-Versionen, betreut von Dave Draper (The Wildhearts, Terrorvision). Zwei Alben vollgepackt mit ihrem typischen Sabbath-meets-Clutch-Riffing, gepaart mit gefühlvollen Vocals, die Geschichten von Herzschmerz und Erlösung erzählen. "Suffer More" erscheint erstmals auf Vinyl, "Hard Times" enthält einen vorher Japan-exklusiven Bonustrack. Mit neuem Artwork und ausführlichen Linernotes von Mike Hayes (Cheap Trick). Remixed. Remastered. Reborn. Redux.

Der ehemalige Wild Beast Sänger Hayden Thorpe legt sein drittes Soloalbum vor

Text: Hayden Thorpe hat sein drittes Soloalbum für den 27.September angekündigt. "Ness" ist inspiriert von Orford Ness in Suffolk, einem ehemaligen Militärstandort für die Entwicklung von Waffen während beider Weltkriege und des Kalten Krieges. Das 1993 vom National Trust erworbene und der Verwilderung überlassene Gebiet ist bis heute ein Ort des Paradoxen, des Geheimnisses und der ständigen Entwicklung. Thorpe's "Ness" ist eine Ode an Orford Ness, an den physischen Ort und an das Buch, das ihn inspiriert hat. Mit Wort und Bild haben der britische Bestseller-Autor Robert Macfarlane und Stanley Donwood darin einen kleinen modernen Mythos geschaffen. Teils Novelle, teils Prosagedicht, teils Mysterienspiel - in "Ness" vereinen sich ihre Fähigkeiten zu einer verblüffenden, beunruhigenden Wirkung und Thorpe erweckt die Lieder darin zum Leben. Nachdem sich Thorpe und Macfarlane auf dem Kendal Mountain Literature Festival kennengelernt und dann zusammengearbeitet hatten, entstand die Idee, dass Thorpe ein Album aus Macfarlanes Prosa machen sollte. Sein Exemplar des Buches ist nun mit schwarzer Tinte bedeckt, die Wörter, Zeilen und Sätze bedeckt, um „das Lied darunter zu enthüllen“. Das Video zur ersten Single "They" bei dem Hayden Thorpe und Andy King Regie führten und das in Orford Ness gefilmt wurde, dient als Einführung in "Ness": die Kiesgrube, das Buch und das Album. In den ersten anderthalb Minuten des Videos spricht Thorpe Macfarlanes Worte und bittet uns: „Listen. Hört jetzt zu. Hört auf Ness. Seid still und hört zu, ja? Hört wirklich zu."


[b] a2. WTF Is That?

Legendary UK band Asian Dub Foundation is celebrating its 30th Anniversary this year!

Asian Dub Foundation are a genre unto themselves. Their unique combination of jungliest rhythms, dub bass lines and wild guitar overlaid by references to their South Asian roots via militant high-speed rap has established them as one of the best live bands in the world. The story began in the early 90’s when ADF formed from a music workshop in East London at the institution which is their spiritual home, Community Music. Their unique beginnings in a music workshop in east London shaped both their sound and their educational aspirations, setting up their own organisation ADF Education (ADFED), plus instigating campaigns on behalf of those suffering miscarriages of justice.

Building a solid live reputation in the mid-90’s, they gained worldwide recognition sharing the stage with Rage Against The Machine, the Beastie Boys, Radiohead and Primal Scream. On record, they've collaborated with Radiohead, Sinead O'Connor, Iggy Pop, Adrian Sherwood, and Chuck D. In addition to their blistering live reputation ADF were one of the first bands to experiment with live film re-scores (“Cineconcerts”), beginning with their rapturously-received re-interpretation of the French classic La Haine back in 2001.

In 30 years, Asian Dub Foundation have racked up 1000’s of unforgettable shows, 9 studio albums alongside a social and educational activism that both created the group and sustains them today. In celebration of the longevity of this unique project they are announcing an extensive European tour for 2024-25 of more than 60 shows and a special album showcasing their many iconic collaborations. “94-Now: Collaborations” will be released on September 27, 2024!










h B3 Free Satpal Ram ft. Primal Scream (Bendran Lynch Mix) ADF30 Remaster

j B5 Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos ft. Chuck D (Live At Somerset House) ADF30 Rework)








h B3 Free Satpal Ram ft. Primal Scream (Bendran Lynch Mix) ADF30 Remaster

j B5 Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos ft. Chuck D (Live At Somerset House) [ADF30 Rework)

Cool Calm Pete has been featured in the past with MF Doom, RJD2, El-P, Morcheeba, Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, Aesop Rock, and others. More recently with Kool Keith, Real Bad Man, Heems, and Lee Scott.
Lost (Director’s Cut) kicks off Petes return with some new projects on deck.
Sometimes it takes time for something to establish its proper place in culture, and the modern-day discourse never fails to rush to label an album to be a classic or a flop. Then there are albums like Cool Calm Pete’s “LOST.” Adored by its dedicated fan base upon its original release in 2005 on Embedded Records and Definitive Jux, this record has continued to garner attention over the years from those who are familiar with it. While word-of-mouth alone may not have been sufficient to propel the album to mainstream success, its enduring popularity two decades later is a testament to its well-deserved recognition as an indie rap cult classic. The Korean-American emcee born as Pete Chung wasn’t asking to be a pioneer but having been raised in Queens NY during the golden era of hip hop, rhyming better than his peers just naturally became his identity. Throughout his debut album, his slow-paced, conversational flow fit like a glove to the self-produced “working class” beats that color most of the album. His education in fine arts as a painter and his day-job with a then-burgeoning lifestyle brand called Supreme sometimes took precedence in his professional life, but his dedication to the craft as a hip hop artist was evident, and fans took notice. The album hasn’t been re-released since its initial 2005 drop. and vinyl copies haven’t sold on the collectors’ market for less than $100 in years. With its first official re-release, the laws of supply-and-demand will surely alter that market, and chances are that with more ears to hear the album, those original pressings will only become hotter. In the meantime, the new “LOST (Director’s Cut)” has been re-mastered and extended for release on Cool Calm Pete’s own label Bubble Wife Records, with never-before-heard cuts led by a remix of the title track by Blockhead. Find it.