Cerca:the chasm

Thrill Jockey Records is proud to present Into This Juvenile Apocalypse Our Golden Blood to Pour Let Us Never, the third collaborative album by Japanese free music provocateur Keiji Haino and expressionist metal trio SUMAC. Into This Juvenile Apocalypse finds the quartet navigating the push-and-pull of creative interplay with bolder strides and stronger chemistry. Recorded on May 21, 2019 at the Astoria Hotel on Vancouver BC"s notorious East Hastings Street as a one-off performance during a short North American tour for Haino, the six compositions comprising Into This Juvenile Apocalypse showcase a musical unit bouncing unfiltered ideas off of one another, mining a trove of textures and timbres from their armory to buoy and bolster these living and breathing pieces. Like so many albums documenting free music, the thrill here is in the tight rope walk, the wavering moments of uncertainty and the ecstatic moments of shared brilliance. Japan"s fearless multi-instrumentalist and cultural provocateur Keiji Haino has made a career out of his free-form musical improvisations and diverse collaborations. Whether deconstructing American blues, to a few rogue notes hanging across chasms of empty space in his solo endeavors, sparring with the nebulous fringes of psychedelia in Fushitsusha, or teaming up with musicians like Faust, Boris, Jim O"Rourke, Stephen O"Malley, John Zorn, and Peter Brötzmann for fleeting aural experiments. Haino"s work is never pre-planned or structured, but rather a completely spontaneous exploration of chemistry, texture, and dynamics. SUMAC"s tenure is much younger than Haino"s, though guitarist-vocalist Aaron Turner has covered a similarly large swath of musical territory across numerous projects and collaborations. From the sedated drones of recent projects with Daniel Menche and William Fowler Collins, to the modern compositions of Mamiffer and all the way back to the restless evolutions of post-metal stalwarts ISIS. With his cohorts Nick Yacyshyn (Baptists, Erosion) on drums and Brian Cook (Russian Circles) on bass, Turner has dissolved the rigid forms of heavy music, searching for a balance between disciplined precision and unhinged musical barbarism, crafting music that vacillates between meticulously detailed instrumentation and uninhibited forays into oblique abstraction.

Thrill Jockey Records is proud to present Into This Juvenile Apocalypse Our Golden Blood to Pour Let Us Never, the third collaborative album by Japanese free music provocateur Keiji Haino and expressionist metal trio SUMAC. Into This Juvenile Apocalypse finds the quartet navigating the push-and-pull of creative interplay with bolder strides and stronger chemistry. Recorded on May 21, 2019 at the Astoria Hotel on Vancouver BC"s notorious East Hastings Street as a one-off performance during a short North American tour for Haino, the six compositions comprising Into This Juvenile Apocalypse showcase a musical unit bouncing unfiltered ideas off of one another, mining a trove of textures and timbres from their armory to buoy and bolster these living and breathing pieces. Like so many albums documenting free music, the thrill here is in the tight rope walk, the wavering moments of uncertainty and the ecstatic moments of shared brilliance. Japan"s fearless multi-instrumentalist and cultural provocateur Keiji Haino has made a career out of his free-form musical improvisations and diverse collaborations. Whether deconstructing American blues, to a few rogue notes hanging across chasms of empty space in his solo endeavors, sparring with the nebulous fringes of psychedelia in Fushitsusha, or teaming up with musicians like Faust, Boris, Jim O"Rourke, Stephen O"Malley, John Zorn, and Peter Brötzmann for fleeting aural experiments. Haino"s work is never pre-planned or structured, but rather a completely spontaneous exploration of chemistry, texture, and dynamics. SUMAC"s tenure is much younger than Haino"s, though guitarist-vocalist Aaron Turner has covered a similarly large swath of musical territory across numerous projects and collaborations. From the sedated drones of recent projects with Daniel Menche and William Fowler Collins, to the modern compositions of Mamiffer and all the way back to the restless evolutions of post-metal stalwarts ISIS. With his cohorts Nick Yacyshyn (Baptists, Erosion) on drums and Brian Cook (Russian Circles) on bass, Turner has dissolved the rigid forms of heavy music, searching for a balance between disciplined precision and unhinged musical barbarism, crafting music that vacillates between meticulously detailed instrumentation and uninhibited forays into oblique abstraction.

Starter Home was originally released November 2, 2018 on US-based
label, No Quarter
From Pitchfork, at the time: "For a decade, Canadian singer/ songwriter Doug
Paisley has turned quiet, specific moments into inquiries on life's larger struggles.
On his 2010 breakthrough, Constant Companion, Paisley used the inevitability of
endings to explore understanding oneself, the only possible constant companion.
For 2014's Strong Feelings, he mulled death and its uneasy relationship with life,
or how their juxtaposition ripples into every wave of existence. And now, on his
fourth album, Starter Home, Paisley details the chasm that separates what poet
Seamus Heaney described as getting started and getting started again. These
songs examine how the person you are never truly aligns with the person you
want to be, especially when you stumble upon a sticking point that's hard to move
past."

“If you can’t say it, you don’t have to,” sings John Fullbright on “Bearden 1645,” the opening track to his new record “The Liar,” out September 30, 2022. The song details Fullbright finding refuge in playing the piano, starting as a child and still today. For fans, it may feel like a bit of a rebuttal to “Happy,” the opener from 2014’s “Songs,” one of several in his repertoire that speak explicitly about mining one’s angst in order to make music. In that way, “Bearden 1645” is also a firm nod to the fourth wall: Fullbright knows you’re thinking about his songwriting. He is, too…but not quite the way he was before. The public at-large hasn’t heard much from him since the critically lauded “Songs,” a chasm of eight years that seemed unthinkable for an artist with so much hype surrounding his early career. Why did it take so long? “Honestly, I don’t know, and that’s been the scariest question to think about and the hardest one to answer,” Fullbright said. Maybe it was a tacit rejection of mounting industry pressure, mixed with a little fear. Or maybe it was the adjustment to a massive upheaval of his way of life. Whether we bore witness or not, it’s been a critical period of change for Fullbright, now in his 30s. Since his last release, he moved out of rural Oklahoma—the aforementioned Bearden has a population of about 130 people—to Tulsa. Once there, he worked to build a place for himself in the context of an established and vibrant musical coterie, performing often as both a bandleader and, more curiously, a sideman: storied loner John Fullbright lugging a piano from this small stage to that one with an uncharacteristic looseness. “It’s been a process of learning how to be in a community of musicians and less focusing on the lone, depressed songwriter…just playing something that has a beat and is really fun,” Fullbright said. “That’s not to say there are no songs on this record where I depart from that, because there are, but there's also a band with an opinion

Boston-based progressive death metal outfit Revocation return from the Lovecraftian outer limits on new album, Netherheaven. Four years in the making, the Billboard-charting trio—featuring Dave Davidson (vocals/guitars), Ash Pearson (drums), and Brett Bamberger (bass)--meticulously explore the allegorical and literal aspects of Hell as they dig deeper into the darker, more diabolical side of death metal. In short, where the previous album, The Outer Ones (2018), jettison Revocation into the horrific maw of the cosmos, Netherheaven bores deftly through the nine rings of Hell to directly confront Lucifer and his multitudinous faces. The album's stunning Renaissance-style Paolo Girardi (Firespawn, Power Trip) cover art says it all. Revocation will release Netherheaven on September 9th. Indeed, as the adventurous triumvirate enter their 16th year, they show zero signs of slowing down or softening up. If death metal was looking for an Album of the Year, it's got a top contender in Netherheaven.

Boston-based progressive death metal outfit Revocation return from the Lovecraftian outer limits on new album, Netherheaven. Four years in the making, the Billboard-charting trio—featuring Dave Davidson (vocals/guitars), Ash Pearson (drums), and Brett Bamberger (bass)--meticulously explore the allegorical and literal aspects of Hell as they dig deeper into the darker, more diabolical side of death metal. In short, where the previous album, The Outer Ones (2018), jettison Revocation into the horrific maw of the cosmos, Netherheaven bores deftly through the nine rings of Hell to directly confront Lucifer and his multitudinous faces. The album's stunning Renaissance-style Paolo Girardi (Firespawn, Power Trip) cover art says it all. Revocation will release Netherheaven on September 9th. Indeed, as the adventurous triumvirate enter their 16th year, they show zero signs of slowing down or softening up. If death metal was looking for an Album of the Year, it's got a top contender in Netherheaven.

Nearly 20 years ago, Karl Sanders – the founder, principal songwriter, and driving creative force behind the exotic, devastatingly heavy stylings of American extreme death metal icons Nile – forayed from his metallic leanings to serve listeners with a transfixing dose of the cinematic, meditative, world music-driven Saurian Meditation (2004). The album explores highly original compositions of hypnotizing, primarily Middle Eastern inspired music, featuring the unique inclusion of instruments such as the balagma saz (Turkish lute) and Glissentar, often blended with dark electronic ambience and deft electric guitar work. Saurian Meditation marked the beginning of Sanders’ Saurian journey, being the first of now three Saurian releases. From the haunting first notes of “Awaiting the Vultures”, which dreamily conjures images of traversing through the dark, mysterious halls of an abandoned ancient temple, to the slithering, percussion-driven pulses and searing electric solos on the ominous album closer “Beckon the Sick Winds of Pestilence” – Saurian Meditation provides a diverse escape for both fans of Nile and the outer realms beyond. Thematically centered around its acoustically-driven, spellbinding seventh track, “Dreaming Through the Eyes of Serpents”, the album ebbs and flows from a higher, rhythmic consciousness to a darker, hypnotic inner balance, achieving a Reptilian Theta State of deep meditation. Saurian Meditation launches the multi-dimensional Saurian universe – witness the very first, transcendental solo output by Karl Sanders, available for the very first time on vinyl, as well as in CD and digital formats, via Napalm Records!

Hypnagogia remains one of the most mysterious and haunting daily states of mind. Moments of revelation are wont to traditionally hit us particularly in the hinterland between dream and waking, It’s this particular headspace that’s very much the world of ‘Pö om pö’, the second Rocket Recordings released full-length record from Sweden’s equally mysterious OCH. Pö om pö (meaning ‘little by little’) is a journey further into inner space from ‘II’, the previous Rocket outing (which followed a 2014 cassette only release) What’s mapped out here is a trajectory on the kosmische continuum that touches on the terrain of late-‘70s Sky records style ambience, the more overgrown quarters of Swedish experimental prog and the sun-baked lo-fi DIY cassette culture of the US early ‘00s.Dwelling in a smoke-clouded glow that’s equal parts sunset gold and effects pedal red, OCH have here transcended all influences to creating a tapestry of potent psychotropic sound. A record in which new horizons open up beyond the small hours, and where primeval wah-wah-abetted skronk and mantric folk tinged repetition can collude to reveal new third-eye perceptions. Little By Little, Pö om pö , these forty minutes are here to bridge the chasms between conscious and subconscious, and in style.

Birthed in the bohemian enclave and epicentre of strange vibrations that is Calderdale in West Yorkshire, Hexen Valley’s story began in summer 2021 when a new formation of Gnod came together in a co-op house at the 200-year-old Nutclough Tavern. As always, the line-up of the collective shifted and morphed to fit circumstances, and soon they embarked on intensive jamming that was eventually captured by Sam Greenwood in Hebden Bridge Underground studios. Inspiration struck not only from the chemistry of the four musicians in this confined room but all around - the band’s Paddy Shine cites the likes of shop noticeboard messages and pub conversations in Hebden as lyrical sparks; channeling by his reckoning the ‘valley fever’ that exists somewhere in the chasms and contrasts between the amazing light and vivacity of the valley summit and the comparative darkness of the towns below. Meanwhile, musical shapes were making themselves known seemingly of their own volition, from ‘Still Running’, which takes shape across a sonic hinterland between Daydream Nation-style kineticism and sludged-out aggression to ‘Bad Apple’ - an entirely spontaneous piece of potent and angular post-punk intensity. Perhaps most surprisingly of all, Lou Reed’s tour-bus favourite ‘Waves Of Fear’ is hammered out with fearsome gusto into a salvo of first-take catharsis and alchemy, fit to transcend all or any oppressive atmospheres that surround.Hexen Valley is the sound of a band whose fearsome intensity is only matched by their evolutionary drive. It’s Gnod at full power, and it’s a haunted place you might struggle to leave

Birthed in the bohemian enclave and epicentre of strange vibrations that is Calderdale in West Yorkshire, Hexen Valley’s story began in summer 2021 when a new formation of Gnod came together in a co-op house at the 200-year-old Nutclough Tavern. As always, the line-up of the collective shifted and morphed to fit circumstances, and soon they embarked on intensive jamming that was eventually captured by Sam Greenwood in Hebden Bridge Underground studios. Inspiration struck not only from the chemistry of the four musicians in this confined room but all around - the band’s Paddy Shine cites the likes of shop noticeboard messages and pub conversations in Hebden as lyrical sparks; channeling by his reckoning the ‘valley fever’ that exists somewhere in the chasms and contrasts between the amazing light and vivacity of the valley summit and the comparative darkness of the towns below. Meanwhile, musical shapes were making themselves known seemingly of their own volition, from ‘Still Running’, which takes shape across a sonic hinterland between Daydream Nation-style kineticism and sludged-out aggression to ‘Bad Apple’ - an entirely spontaneous piece of potent and angular post-punk intensity. Perhaps most surprisingly of all, Lou Reed’s tour-bus favourite ‘Waves Of Fear’ is hammered out with fearsome gusto into a salvo of first-take catharsis and alchemy, fit to transcend all or any oppressive atmospheres that surround.Hexen Valley is the sound of a band whose fearsome intensity is only matched by their evolutionary drive. It’s Gnod at full power, and it’s a haunted place you might struggle to leave

Finally unearthed and re-issued in the way Hammerheart Records do re-issues! Insane high-speed technical Thrash with a hint of Death Metal!

In the years between 2018’s BAMBI and LP3, Minneapolis’ Hippo Campus -- made up of vocalist/guitarists Jake Luppen and Nathan Stocker, drummer Whistler Allen, bassist Zach Sutton, and trumpeter DeCarlo Jackson -- has grown up and into itself. Although the five-piece has been friends since middle school and put out a number of studio releases since its inception, it’s the new record, LP3, that’s the most honest portrait of who Hippo Campus is. It’s also a study in the nuances of growing up -- coming to terms with mortality, the confusing journey of sexuality, bottoming out, seeing decisions from the night before in the harsh morning light; finding your identity as a person and as an artist -- how that can be a collision of elation and shame, painful and joyful all at once. LP3 marks a sort of ego death -- and ultimately feeling okay with that. So much of LP3 was written in the chasm between grappling with the value of your own art and the larger, chaotic context of the world. It traverses the end of relationships, of careers, and the chance of meeting yourself as a brand new person. If you take the signifier of “musician” away, what does it mean? And how do you expand your identity outside of work? Here, it’s something the band works through. And, in the end, it happens with the same ride-or-die crew at your back to hold you down -- or up -- the entire time. Over the last few years, the Hippo universe has expanded outward. Luppen and Stocker both put out solo records as Lupin and Brotherkenzie respectively, and the two also teamed up with Caleb Hinz to put out the debut Baby Boys record while DeCarlo Jackson founded, and collaborated with multiple bands around the Twin Cities, including DNM, Arlo, and FPA. Navigating solo projects and new dynamics and the spotlight alone is humbling, bringing up new insecurities and defense mechanisms. It was challenging in its own way to branch outside of Hippo -- and it made the eventual return to the project feel like coming home. “With LP3, Hippo felt like a very safe space to express those things because you have your best friends around you, rallying behind you,” Luppen says. “And each person could chime in with their own experience. I felt like it was a very safe space to be earnest.” Here, Hippo Campus killed what they knew and started again.

In the years between 2018’s BAMBI and LP3, Minneapolis’ Hippo Campus -- made up of vocalist/guitarists Jake Luppen and Nathan Stocker, drummer Whistler Allen, bassist Zach Sutton, and trumpeter DeCarlo Jackson -- has grown up and into itself. Although the five-piece has been friends since middle school and put out a number of studio releases since its inception, it’s the new record, LP3, that’s the most honest portrait of who Hippo Campus is. It’s also a study in the nuances of growing up -- coming to terms with mortality, the confusing journey of sexuality, bottoming out, seeing decisions from the night before in the harsh morning light; finding your identity as a person and as an artist -- how that can be a collision of elation and shame, painful and joyful all at once. LP3 marks a sort of ego death -- and ultimately feeling okay with that. So much of LP3 was written in the chasm between grappling with the value of your own art and the larger, chaotic context of the world. It traverses the end of relationships, of careers, and the chance of meeting yourself as a brand new person. If you take the signifier of “musician” away, what does it mean? And how do you expand your identity outside of work? Here, it’s something the band works through. And, in the end, it happens with the same ride-or-die crew at your back to hold you down -- or up -- the entire time. Over the last few years, the Hippo universe has expanded outward. Luppen and Stocker both put out solo records as Lupin and Brotherkenzie respectively, and the two also teamed up with Caleb Hinz to put out the debut Baby Boys record while DeCarlo Jackson founded, and collaborated with multiple bands around the Twin Cities, including DNM, Arlo, and FPA. Navigating solo projects and new dynamics and the spotlight alone is humbling, bringing up new insecurities and defense mechanisms. It was challenging in its own way to branch outside of Hippo -- and it made the eventual return to the project feel like coming home. “With LP3, Hippo felt like a very safe space to express those things because you have your best friends around you, rallying behind you,” Luppen says. “And each person could chime in with their own experience. I felt like it was a very safe space to be earnest.” Here, Hippo Campus killed what they knew and started again.

'The second pressing of Mountain Caller's debut album 'Chronicle I: The Truthseeker' is limited to 500 copies, cream vinyl housed in a single sleeve with printed inner, plus a full download.' Mountain Caller are ready to engage hyper-drive and launch their debut album into the riff time continuum. Mountain Caller are El, Claire and Max and hail from London. They describe themselves as a heavy progressive instrumental three-piece, who are driven to tell stories with music and want listeners to conjure up cinematic scenes in their minds. And that they do … in spades. If one needs a sonic ballpark, think the infectious jamming of Elder and the dynamic cinema-scapes of Mogwai, underpinned by the mantric riffs of Sleep. A rich amalgam of Progressive Rock, Post Metal and Doom. Nevertheless, Mountain Caller do succeed in weaving their own unique spell. The band are already buzzing, pricking up the ears of those in the know, and now after two years honing their chops with a clutch of immersive live performances under their belts (including a slot at Desertfest) Mountain Caller are ready to bring you their debut album. Chronicle I: The Truthseeker. Recorded in January of 2020 at No Studio in Manchester by producer Joe Clayton of Pijn, and mastered by Magnus Lindberg of ‘Cult Of Luna’. For the band, it’s a labour of love; the fruit of three years of jamming, crafting, and conceptualising; a collaborative piece, where each instrument takes centre stage, within a heady mix of chasmic riffs and panoramic, reflective soundscapes. Chronicle I: The Truthseeker is a feminist allegory created in tandem with the music. As the band describe it … In The Truthseeker, we join The Protagonist at the edge of the Twilight Desert, compelled by an indefinable but urgent need to set forth on an Odyssean journey to rediscover her memory and her voice. Over the course of 42 minutes, we travel from barren wastelands to mysterious cities, encountering trials of both body and spirit. It is indeed a 6 track instrumental journey. Full of winding roads, brooding valleys and strange encounters, all vividly evoked by a canny grasp of dynamics, melody and heavy, but hooky riffs, executed with peerless playing. 'Journey Through The Twilight Desert' opens the album in soundtrack mode, and develops in weight and riff (as if Goblin have taken up the baton) and closes in a full wide screen Mogwai trip .... and that's just the opening track. Elsewhere Mountain Caller pushes to noisier, heavier groovier places. Whether it’s the chiming guitars on the Krautrock/post-rock groove of 'I remember Everything' or 'Trial by Combat' and its doom meets Deftones vibe. To album closer 'Dreamspirals' with its melodic hooks and huge earworm riffs, it’s an album that more than stands up to listening on repeat as there plenty to discover.

From its earliest utterances, experimental music has been particularly disposed to transnational and cross-cultural collaboration. Seeking the answer for a fundamental problem - how to transcend the boundaries of difference, distance, and time - it presents a means to find common ground and communicate through the elemental form of sound. Over the last 5 years, this precisely what the duo of Félicia Atkinson & Jefre Cantu-Ledesma has achieved, intertwining sublime sonorities across the geographic expanses between their respective homes in France and the United States. Their third album for Shelter Press, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ (‘A winter in the middle of summer’) - the first to have been largely recorded by Atkinson and Cantu-Ledesma together in the same space - distills a mesmerizing pallet of acoustic and electronic sources into an open discourse of radically poetic forms, offering glimpses of warmth and intimacy waiting in the post-covid world to come.

Both veteran experimentalists with celebrated bodies of solo work behind them - each traversing the challenges of electroacoustic practice in their own singular ways - prior to their first recorded outing in 2016, Félicia Atkinson and Jefre Cantu-Ledesma had only crossed paths in person once, initially meeting in San Fransisco during 2009. The mutual bond formed during that brief encounter flowered into their first LP, ‘Comme Un Seul Narcisse’, followed two years later by 2018’s ‘Limpid As The Solitudes’. Both recorded remotely - sending files back and forth, fortified by conversations on a vast range of subjects - these two albums were guided by impassioned conceptual nods to Guy Debord, Baudelaire, Brion Gysin and Sylvia Plath, while seeking resolutions for the challenges and unique possibilities that working at a distance provoked.

Where the triumphs of its predecessors rose from the bridging of disparate moments and divergent spaces, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ culminates as a celebration of closeness, a result of Atkinson and Cantu-Ledesma working together in the studio, responsively in real time, for the first time. Recorded in Brooklyn during August of 2019 - a handful of months before the pandemic would impose chasmic distances across the globe - its six discrete works, carefully crafted and finalized over the ensuing year, evolve seamlessly across the album’s two sides, weaving a sprawling tapestry of sonority, within which both artists retaining their own voices and visions, while drawing each other towards uncharted ground.

Atkinson likens the recording of ‘Un hiver en plein été’ to have been akin to “a playground”, each artist “hungry for each sound, a bit like the rush in the Louvre in Godard’s Bande à part”, to which Cantu-Ledesma adds that the process seemed to have had “a mind of its own”, with both “along for the ride”. This organic sense of entropy and enthusiasm - a joyous exploration of the unknown - guides the momentum of the album’s evolving arc, as unfolding chasms of ambient space ripple with humanity, life, and fleeting glimpses of the actions that led to its material core.

Crafted from deconstructed melodic elements and drifting long-tones - laden with subtle nods to Indian classical ragas and free jazz - searching patterns of speech, textural elements captured within the studio and the outside world, and searching tonal and percussive interventions, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ coheres as a multi-faceted series of electroacoustic dialogues; nesting conversations between two artists working at the juncture of abstraction and narration, field recording and harmony, and the philosophical and phenomenological, in search for the meaning of friendship, and its manifestation in pure sound.

Mystery Jets announce that their sixth studio album ‘A Billion Heartbeats’ will be released on 27th September on Caroline International. The band also release ‘Screwdriver’, the first single to be taken from the album.

Screwdriver is an uncompromising look at the rise of the rebranded alt-right in the UK, built around a powerfully positive message: "Fight them with love / then the world will be ours".

Lead singer Blaine Harrison says of the song, “Screwdriver is about the mechanics of intolerance. Looking back at times of economic instability in history, we see how easily deep chasms grow in society and the population seeks change wherever it is most convincingly promised. Conflict arises as cultures and belief systems clash, unwilling to accept one another’s place in society, because we are fed the rhetoric that our neighbours are those responsible for our problems: then inevitably nationalism once more raises its ugly head above the parapet. But whereas political agendas fuel divisiveness, music unites and reminds us of all that we have in common. The message of Screwdriver is not a pessimistic one - because perhaps faced with confrontation we can find understanding, and even maybe learn how to listen to, and love one another.”

Each room of the house in the video is a metaphor for the different sections of society in the UK. It wraps around the narrative of the song, that in order to overcome adversity, you have to “Fight Them With Love”. The visual showcases the song’s inherent message, clashing aggressiveness with tenderness, and culminates in showing after anger, we can always come together through love.
All great albums start from a unique perspective. But try a window on the Strand, in an abandoned office block, overlooking the kind of political upheaval London hasn’t seen in a generation. Blaine Harrison was living as a property guardian right around the corner from Trafalgar Square when he found himself witness to an entire year of protests. Every weekend from January 2017 on, people were marching for a different cause: "In the space of six months it was Black Lives Matter, the huge ‘Our NHS’ march, Unite for Europe," he recalls. "Then the solidarity sleep-out organised by Help Refugees, where we slept in Whitehall for the night... The protestors would wake me up in the morning. I’d just walk down and join in.”

Over the course of that year, Mystery Jets' sixth long-player, A Billion Heartbeats, was born. "This album wasn’t about making pointed opinions,” says Blaine. “It was about being a mirror for what’s going on, reflecting back the way people are feeling.” By turns tender and fierce, abstract and full of classic rock energy, A Billion Heartbeats achieves a balance of passion, fear and hope. Amid the colourful cavalcade of rich harmonies, heavy guitars and rallying cries, the album’s essential message - about personal responsibility, and the power in becoming engaged. In a sense, it's not just their "state of the nation” record but their “state of a generation” record too.

We increasingly hear from musicians that music should be an escape these days - that there’s enough suffering in the world, enough misery on the news, without writings songs about it too. A Billion Heartbeats makes all that sound like a bit of a cop-out. These are songs of protest that get the heart racing in joy; high on hope, and serious in their message. Proof, basically, that music speaks louder than words.

Featuring an impressive list of collaborators, including Ty Segall and
members of Woods, Cibo Matto, Sharon Van Etten’s band, Wand,
Heatwarmer, Mega Bog and Bonnie “Prince” Billy, ‘Geist’ is the
follow-up to Shannon Lay’s 2019 Sub Pop debut, ‘August’, which
featured friends and collaborators Ty Segal (whose band Shannon
played in) and Mikal Cronin.

‘Geist’ feels like a window - or a mirror - into possibilities of the self
and beyond. Shannon Lay’s new album is tender intensity, placeless
and ethereal. It exists in the chasms of the present -- a world
populated by shadow selves, spiritual awakenings, déjà vu and past
lives. “Something sleeps inside us,” Lay insists on the opening track,
and that’s the guiding philosophy throughout. A winding, golden,
delicate thread of intuition that explores the unknown, the possibility.
Its title, ‘Geist’, the German word for spirit, is rife with an otherworldly
presence, the suggestion of another. The promise that you are never
alone.

Lay tracked vocals and guitar at Jarvis Tavinere of Woods’ studio,
then sent the songs out to multi-instrumentalists Ben Boye (Bonnie
“Prince” Billy, Ty Segall) in Los Angeles and Devin Hoff (Sharon Van
Etten, Cibo Matto) in New York; trusting their musical instincts and
intuition. She then sent those recordings to Sofia Arreguin (Wand)
and Aaron Otheim (Heatwarmer, Mega Bog) for additional keys, while
Ty Segall contributed a guitar solo on ‘Shores’.

As a whole, ‘Geist’ is both esoteric and accessible. Songs range from
a concise, pared-back cover of Syd Barrett’s tilt-a-whirl-esque ‘Late
Night’, to the meditative, Dune-inspired ‘Rare to Wake’, to the mostly
a-cappella ‘Awaken and Allow’, which channels Lay’s deep Irish
roots, a moment of reflection, before a drop happens - its intensity
mirroring the anticipation and anxiety that come with taking the first
step to accepting change for yourself. And the title track ‘Geist’, a
song about the power living in all of us, is a love song to the
possibility of healing, an ode to falling into the arms of what you’re
becoming. It’s a glimpse into the parts of yourself you have yet to
meet.

Initial copies of the LP pressed on Sun Yellow coloured vinyl.