quête:text

The Junkyard 2 came into fruition when it was released in May of last year, as an intimate collection of what she considered her best material. Scott has been taking piano lessons since she was eight years old growing up in California, and that instrumental talent is one of the most striking elements on the record. The songs reckoned with touchy subjects -- emotional labor, insecurity, healthcare -- with razor-sharp wit and care. Even if it was recorded poorly, the brilliance of the writing and performance still resonated. After that, she realized she had to do better, and so she unveiled Public Void in September. She ditched the piano, played with software, and gave her music a texture that was bolder, weirder, and catchier. Together, the two projects and Scott’s other singles have combined to amass 150 million on-demand U.S. streams, according to MRC data. The landscape of TikTok is cluttered, and hits are ephemeral, but Scott’s strike a unique chord and her image is constantly growing. When asked if she considers that music will be her full time job, she pauses, reluctant to think too far ahead. “I think, for the near future, yes,” she ultimately answers. “I’m definitely not leaving college for it. But the next couple of years are locked in.”

American Football (LP3) is the third album from the scene giants - American Football. American Football’s original triumph, on their 1999 self-titled debut, was to reunite two shy siblings: emo and post-rock. It was a pioneering album where lyrical clarity was obscured and complicated by the stealth musical textures surrounding it. Like Slint’s Spiderland, or Codeine’s The White Birch, even Talk Talk’s Laughing Stock, American Football asked far more questions than it cared to answer. But there wasn’t a band around anymore to explain it, anyway. The three young men who made the album – Mike Kinsella, Steve Holmes, and Steve Lamos – split up pretty much on its release. Fifteen years later, American Football reunited (now as a four-piece, with the addition of Nate Kinsella). They played far larger shows than in their original incarnation and recorded their long-anticipated second album, 2016’s American Football (LP2). The release was widely praised, but the band members still felt like their best work was yet to come. ‘I feel like the second album was us figuring it out,’ says Nate. ‘For me, it wasn’t quite done. I knew there was still more.’ Enter American Football (LP3). ‘We put a lot of time and a lot of energy into it,’ says Mike. ‘We were all thoughtful about what we wanted to put out there. Last time, it was figuring out how to use all of our different arms. This time, we were like – Ok we have these arms, let’s use them.’ The band used the same producer, Jason Cupp, and recorded the album at the same studio (Arc Studios in Omaha, Nebraska) as its predecessor – yet they approached it in a markedly different way. There was a determination to let the songs breathe, to trust in ideas finding their own pace. The final result is a definite, and deliberate, stretching of the band.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Reformed Society joins the roster of Brussel's, Belgium's Basic Moves this June with a 2x12'' EP, comprising six original compositions from the New Delhi born now Barcelona based artist. After many years sharing music, Basic Moves boss Walrus welcomes Indian artist Harsh Puri onto the imprint for a special double pack vinyl release. The material was gradually reduced down to the six compositions that make up BM19 after received over a hundred demo tracks from Harsh the past few years.

Much of the release is inspired by UK tech house of the late nineties and the turn of the millennium and embraces a heads down, dance floor focused aesthetic throughout.

Opening the release is 'Constant State Of Hustle', perfectly setting the tone with an amalgamation of bubbling synthesizer tones, a choppy bass groove, sporadic pads and a heavily swung drum groove. 'Touch' then shifts focus over to fluttering stab sequences, bright chords, airy strings and a crunchy rhythm section before 'Hammer The Keys' embraces the core essence of the early Tech House sound, fusing organic percussion with multilayered machine funk melodies, all infused with an underlying acid feel.

Next up is 'Hug Pit' which dives into deep realms via ethereal, cinematic pad textures, wandering resonant synth lines and shuffled drums. The aptly named 'Adrenaline Rush' follows next, picking up the pace again courtesy of a gnarly bass melody, squelchy synth tones and a robust drum machine workout. 'Dream Shuttle' then rounds out the release, employing hazy atmospheric textures and a bumpy bass groove alongside dynamic, crisp drums.

Returning to his home base, Rotterdam based electro-techno mainstay Conforce presents a heavy pack of angular, experimental approaches on his latest offering into the Delsin databank.

Boris Bunnik's accomplished machine language has traversed deep and dubby soundscapes with punchy, club-focused fare alike, since 2010's Grace EP he has found a regular home on Delsin and it's always exciting to see what he comes up with next.

Where Conforce has commonly housed Bunnik's more melancholic, introspective work, the sound palette on Sins Of Synthesis is more tipped towards darker dimensions. The shadow of braindance looms large, guiding the music towards twitchy pattern manipulation, alien textural design and dissonant harmonics.

Bunnik's signature sense of melody can still be detected around the edges, from the distant, hazy pads of 'Charlatan' to the lingering chimes of 'Fragile', but this is a pointed new direction for Conforce and it's leading somewhere very interesting...

Glitching through pop music, cruising around the borders of the avant garde, passing by the edge of coldwave and tumbling into dance and club vibes: after her debut Bad Woman Céline Gillain is back with her second album: 'Mind is Mud'.

On Mind is Mud' Gillain let herself sink in the swamp of emotional confusion, the perpetual brain fog caused by a post Covid-world asking herself: do we have to get used to paradox as a way of life from now on?*

A musical dissection in nine songs of the mudflow, a flow which reveals its rich complexity the more Gillain dived into it: from the demanding intro 'Together' Céline opens up her highly personal and unique vision, shifting between high definition lost dimensions and emotionsthe mud slowly transfers in a crackling and sparkling stream of consciousness.

The mud is well alive in all its weirdness and unclarity. At times, it even glows in the dark.

The answer to that question is yes. The story of Mind is Mud by Céline Gillain: "Music is a place where intuiting is a work in itself. For me, it's the one place where I'm in charge, free to think and do what I want. Mind is Mud is the fruit of a collaborative practice with a DAW, a research around the palliative power of rhythm and the dancefloor, music as a space where emotions and ideas merge, storytelling, the comic potential and imaginative nature of sound. I don't really write, I copy paste and then I arrange and rearrange. Every sound I use comes from software, field recording, Instagram, movies and midi scores I collect here and there. In the hierarchy of sounds, you might call them cheap sounds. The lyrics are collages as well, made of pieces of texts from various contradictory sources. In addition to using the voice as a vehicle for ideas, I investigate its percussive and polyphonic potentialities, the possibility to have more than one voice/mouth."

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.

Debut vinyl by Cruz Perro Maldito, a Tenerife based trio forever imbued in the collective imagination and folklore myths of the magical and misty mountain of Agua García, located in Tacoronte district at the foot of Teide Volcano (Tenerife/Canary Islands). Their music is an explosion of free jazz improv where sophisticated sound textures emerg-ing from modular synths and processed guitar create abstract and random rhythmic patterns with complex saxophone lines guiding the ensemble from quiet to menacing passages of sudden bursts of noise and frenzy.


Entitled Truquetin Resorte, the album takes inspiration from the rich history of mechanical automata, such as Talos, the bronze giant who defended the island of Crete and was eventually defeated by Jason and his Argonauts. Or Apega de Nabis, a replica of King Nabis’ wife whom crossed unsuspecting victims with its iron spikes hidden in the device's lower arms, hands and breasts.

Or even René Descartes and his infamous daughter- like Automaton replica, an eerie creation from the renown philosopher to evoke his dead daughter
These myths and more serve as reminder of a mechanical world’s past, a world of complex automata stories with me-chanic ‘imitating’ beings as its problematic protagonists. An eerie counterpoint to our current uber modern digital world and its rapid advancing A.I.s.

Eaux proudly announces the second full length LP from Rrose, Please Touch, released on vinyl, CD, and digital download. The LP follows 2019's Hymn to Moisture in ways that are both subtle and striking: Please Touch further hones the artist's tensile sound while exploring new aesthetic vistas and basking in an undeniably erotic sense of play. Moving with undulating power, the album's nine tracks drift across tempos from a weightless 0 bpm to a crawling 100 to a lunging 140 and back, with a rich palette of sculpted noise and cross-talking microtones.

Rrose's compositional process, rooted in their studies with West Coast avant garde trailblazers at Mills College, centers on "seed" sounds being fed through elaborate webs of interrelated audio processing. The result is a world where changes in any one element have downstream implications for some or all the others. It's a rich interdependence that lets the tracks breathe, grow and mutate with uncanny organicism. Please Touch addresses in equal measure the perceptual and the corporeal: these are sounds that sink into the body, exhibiting a tactility that pushes, pulls, bends and yields with fearsome vibrancy.

The album splits its time between radical techno iterations and pieces which pare back the percussion, letting the synth textures uncurl in their own time and space. The quivering drone and rolling sub-bass of "Joy of the Worm'' set the tone for the record, while "Rib Cage," Spore" and "Spines " swing with stepping rhythmic underpinnings. Building with finely calibrated tension, they use their few elements to startling, snarling effect. "Pleasure Vessels" is a rare moment of becalmed introspection in Rrose's oeuvre, hinting at a melodic ambiance that is practically unseen in previous works. It glows with a soft, dawn-like light before dissolving into a tidal fizz. "The Illuminating Glass'' brings the tempo down to a languorous chug, nodding its way through a field of glistening chirps and leaden gasps. "Feeding Time," "Disappear" and album closer "Turning Blue'' meanwhile nod to the cerebral psychedelia of Rrose's forebears, with mesmeric, looping textures and long, magisterial tones not dissimilar to the spectral works of James Tenney (whose work Rrose regularly performs) and the deep listening pieces of Pauline Oliveros.

The title of the album refers playfully to the tactile quality of the music while hinting at a forbidden sensuality that is only permitted within the confines of this microcosm. The phrase is also another nod to Marcel Duchamp, who gave this title to a 1947 exhibition of Surrealist art. Across the nine tracks, Rrose follows the lead of the sound(s) rather than trying to impose on the flow of the sonic material. Each move changes the parameters of a track's evolution. Thus, a non-hierarchical, symbiotic relationship forms between the so-called "music-maker" and the music itself. Please Touch acts as a collection of limbs, organs, parasites, and growths which both devour each other and keep each other alive.

Following the 2022 release of The Soft Moon's highly praised fifth full-length album Exister, 2023 sees the release of Exister Remixed, a harsh and textured collection of 5 remixes by some of Europe's boldest industrial techno EBM and experimental electronic artists: Phase Fatale, Unhuman, OTHR, Gael and Norbak. Hailed as "The Soft Moon's most expansive statement to date..." (Brooklyn Vegan) and a "meticulously crafted, vividly greyscale industrial post-punk" (The FADER), Exister is a post-punk industrial masterpiece engulfed in a brooding yet thundering atmosphere - and these reworkings offer an even greater layer of intensity. The Soft Moon's 'Exister' tour will continue through spring and summer 2023 across Europe, UK, Asia, and USA.

Exister Remixed is out June 23rd, 2023 on digital and vinyl 12" format. This is a joint-release between Sacred Bones Records and Bite Records (Phase Fatale's imprint).

Introducing "Beats on Boat Vol. 2" - the highly anticipated compilation album featuring some of the most talented and respected names in the lofi hiphop scene With tracks from the likes of FloFilz, Made in M, digitalluc, and Klaus Layer, to name a few. This project promises to deliver a unique blend of chill beats and groovy rhythms that
will transport listeners to a world of laid-back vibes.

Released through ear-sight, tracks from "Beats on Boat Vol. 2" will be released every two weeks starting from
May 31st and will be accompanied by a live set, filmed on Berlins river Spree.

One of the standout features of this album is how each artist brings their own unique style to the table. From FloFilz's jazzy beats to Made in M's dreamy soundscapes, listeners can expect a diverse range of sounds and textures that will keep them hooked like fish on a rod.

Another thing that sets "Beats on Boat Vol. 2" apart from other compilations is the focus on both lofi hiphop and lofi house. While these two genres may seem vastly different at first glance, they actually share a lot of common ground - both are built on a foundation of warm textures, and infectious grooves.

A must-listen for anyone who loves lofi music, chill beats, or just wants to experience something truly unique. With this roster of top-tier artists, the focus on both lofi hiphop and lofi house, and its live beat sets on a boat in Berlin, this compilation is sure to make waves. Hop aboard and tune in!

Mastered by digitalluc
Cover design by Otto Stobbe

It's always good to have Norbak onboard again with this brand new slice of plastic. Four cuts of precise and gymnastic techno aimed for the most advanced dancefloors energetic and intelligent at the same time, as we like.

A side starts with "Tell me I'm wrong" a fast paced hypnotic exercise with adrenalinic synth lines running over complex rhythms, properly arranged in a constantly changing structure.

"Amongst Them" follow, textured flanged sounds running across the stereo field, shuffled beats and lots of space, the definition of how profound techno should be.

Flipping the vinyl, B1 is "Pure and Faithful", funk infused sequences constantly altered in shape, complex grooves and as always a profound structure full of twists.

Last cut in this exercise is "Unbearable Lightness", continuous and repetitive randomized synth lines spiced with lots of reverb over a well crafted drum workout, intense and spacious at the same time.

Another demonstration of studio skills and sound design from this young Portuguese producer.

Über Iris aus dem Raum Stuttgart/Esslingen ist nicht viel bekannt. 1981 hat die siebenköpfige Band ihr einziges Album für das kleine Label PEAK aufgenommen, die natürlich nicht die finanziellen Mittel hatten, Iris zu etablieren. Zudem klang das anspruchsvolle und dennoch teils hart rockende Material nach dem, was man allgemein als Krautrock bezeichnet, oder bezeichnen kann. Somit war ein Drängen in die damals angesagte NDW-Richtung absolut ausgeschlossen.

Der Übergang von den späten Siebzigern zu den frühen Achtzigern war musikalisch auch in Deutschland extrem spannend. Iris hielten stilistisch eher an den Siebzigern fest, was ihnen heute mit dieser Wiederveröffentlichung posthum neue Fans bringen wird. Auch in der Hardrock- und Heavy Metal-Szene gibt es immer mehr junge Bands, die mit der Klangästhetik spielen, die auch auf „Iris“ zu hören ist. Ein
„veralteter Sound“ wird wieder modern.

Die CD und LP kommt mit Liner Notes von Fachmann Michael Lörber. Ausserdem wurden alle Komponenten des Albums, also auch das Textblatt, gescannt und hinzugefügt. Den Audiotransfer hat Patrick Engel (Sony Music, High Roller, etc.) vorgenommen, das Remastering erfolgte durch Neudi.

Ein in Zukunft nicht mehr vergessenes Stück deutscher Rockgeschichte!

Not much is known about Iris from the Stuttgart / Esslingen area.

In 1981, the seven-member band recorded their only album for the small label PEAK, which of course did not have the financial means to mainstream Iris. In addition, the sophisticated yet sometimes hard rocking stuff sounded like what is generally called, or can be called, Krautrock. Thus, a push towards the NDW style that was in vogue at the time was absolutely out of the question.

The transition from the late seventies to the early eighties was musically extremely exciting, even in Germany. Iris stuck stylistically more to the seventies, which will bring them new fans posthumously today with this re-release. Also in the hard rock and heavy metal scene there are more and more young bands playing with the sound aesthetics that can also be heard on „Iris“. An „outdated sound“ is becoming modern again.

The CD and LP comes with liner notes by expert Michael Lörber. In addition, all components of the album, including the lyric sheet, were scanned and added. The audio transfer was done by Patrick Engel (Sony Music, High Roller, etc.), the remastering was done by Neudi.
A piece of German rock history that will not be forgotten in the future!

Wye Oak, das Duo bestehend aus Jenn Wasner und Andy Stack, veröffentlicht mit Every Day Like The Last eine Sammlung brandneuer Songs und bereits veröffentlichter Singles, mit der die Band neue Wege beschreitet. Die neun Songs auf Every Day Like The Last stammen aus einer Zeit, in der sich Wye Oak nach mehr als einem Jahrzehnt kontinuierlicher Albumveröffentlichungen und Tourneen im Umbruch befanden. Die musikalische Partnerschaft von Jenn Wasner und Andy Stack erblühte in der Ungewissheit dieser Zeit, wann immer sie spürten, dass Wye Oak etwas zu sagen hatten. Sie gingen dazu über, schnell EPs und Singles zu schreiben, aufzunehmen und digital zu veröffentlichen. Klanglich kehrten Wasner und Stack zu den Grundlagen zurück. Sie balancierten das Organische und das Künstliche aus und nutzen Elektronik und Programmierung, um neue Texturen hinzuzufügen. Für Stack gibt es einen roten Faden, der sich durch das scheinbare Chaos zieht: "Freude im Untergang der Welt zu finden". Every Day Like The Last tut genau das, indem es den Hörer an die neuen Höhen erinnert, die Wye Oak seit 2018's The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs erreicht haben, während es einen Blick ins Ungewisse wirft, was vor uns liegt. Der Titel dieser Sammlung erkennt diese Dualität an, indem er sie wie eine Frage stellt: "Jeder Tag wie der Tag davor" oder "Jeder Tag wie der letzte Tag auf der Erde"? "Beide Bedeutungen treffen zu", sagt Wasner. Es gibt keine einfachen Antworten.

Wye Oak, das Duo bestehend aus Jenn Wasner und Andy Stack, veröffentlicht mit Every Day Like The Last eine Sammlung brandneuer Songs und bereits veröffentlichter Singles, mit der die Band neue Wege beschreitet. Die neun Songs auf Every Day Like The Last stammen aus einer Zeit, in der sich Wye Oak nach mehr als einem Jahrzehnt kontinuierlicher Albumveröffentlichungen und Tourneen im Umbruch befanden. Die musikalische Partnerschaft von Jenn Wasner und Andy Stack erblühte in der Ungewissheit dieser Zeit, wann immer sie spürten, dass Wye Oak etwas zu sagen hatten. Sie gingen dazu über, schnell EPs und Singles zu schreiben, aufzunehmen und digital zu veröffentlichen. Klanglich kehrten Wasner und Stack zu den Grundlagen zurück. Sie balancierten das Organische und das Künstliche aus und nutzen Elektronik und Programmierung, um neue Texturen hinzuzufügen. Für Stack gibt es einen roten Faden, der sich durch das scheinbare Chaos zieht: "Freude im Untergang der Welt zu finden". Every Day Like The Last tut genau das, indem es den Hörer an die neuen Höhen erinnert, die Wye Oak seit 2018's The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs erreicht haben, während es einen Blick ins Ungewisse wirft, was vor uns liegt. Der Titel dieser Sammlung erkennt diese Dualität an, indem er sie wie eine Frage stellt: "Jeder Tag wie der Tag davor" oder "Jeder Tag wie der letzte Tag auf der Erde"? "Beide Bedeutungen treffen zu", sagt Wasner. Es gibt keine einfachen Antworten.

Schwarz auf weiss' war das vierte Album der Vollgas Rock'n'Roller aus St. Pauli, original erschienen in 2011. Die Fans bekommen wie immer straighten, ehrlichen Rock'N'Roll geliefert. Die Songs rocken gradlinig mit fetten Riffs und treffsicheren Hooks, wie man es sonst nur von den australischen Riff-Göttern von AC/DC erwarten darf.
Bis heute sind Songs wie "Heul Den Mond An" oder "Sie hat Ihr Herz An St. Pauli Verloren" aus keine Ohrenfeindt Show wegzudenken und genießen bei den zahlreichen Fans der band absoluten Kultstatus.
OHRENFEINDT überzeugen mit jeder Menge Spielfreude, deutschen Texten, die fast schon überraschend nicht-peinlich sind und einer einwandfreien Produktion. Perfekt in Szene gesetzter Rotzrock, der schlicht und ergreifend Spaß macht.


Neuauflage erscheint mit einer einzigartigen Version des Rose Tattoo Klassikers "Nice Boys" als CD bonus track und als Ltd. White Vinyl Edition.

High Roller Records, black vinyl, ltd 500, A4 insert, Cassette transfer, audio restoration and mastering by Patrick W. Engel at TEMPLE OF DISHARMONY in November 2020 / January 2022. Artwork and text restoration and extension by Alexander von Wieding.

High Roller Records, splatter vinyl, ltd 500, A4 insert, Cassette transfer, audio restoration and mastering by Patrick W. Engel at TEMPLE OF DISHARMONY in November 2020 / January 2022. Artwork and text restoration and extension by Alexander von Wieding.