Cerca:the ember

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Golden-era of kinked, acid-hued, analogue, harmonic song writing sits at the heart of The Eggmen Whoooooo!’s first, mind-bending, full-length album. Two-decades of meandering musicality fans the embers of cult Welsh legends, El Goodo, glowing beneath Benedict Frye’s latest bakeries of sound.

Whisking effervescence and colour into the flat glass of soda of mundane middle age, the
former El Goodo pace-setter has gathered a band of five other, talented souls and asks the jittery cut of sparking psych to lead the charge as the band’s debut album, ‘Fuzzy Eggs, Please’ is announced for release on Fri 25 October 2024.

Almost a full two decades since El Goodo rose to an elevated position amongst discerning
music-lovers as consorts to, support act beneath and studio collaborators with Super Furry
Animals, and a full four years since the final act of the departed band (their last, acclaimed
studio album, Zombie) a tapestry of distinctly and brilliantly odd songs scrambles from the
heart of the Welsh hills. Transplanted into the chest cavity of a new, stage-ready six-headed creature, what awakes is a new beast of valve amp and feedback-fuelled splendour.

All ten songs, recorded in mountainous seclusion in Carmarthenshire with producer,
Thighpaulsandra (Spiritualized, Tim Burgess), have clustered in strange harmony on The
Eggmen Whoooooo!’s very first, perfectly imperfect album.

Formed in a lightning strike of inspiration by prolific, remote South Wales-based keeper of
various musical flames, Benedict E Frye, The Eggmen Whoooooo! finds members of
kindred, Welsh musical spirits, El Goodo, Los Blancos and Trecco Beis, joining hands and
overloading studio plug sockets in a display of unchallenged creative hubris. With nobody to please but themselves, the six-piece’s indulgence in sounds straddles sun-licked Californian harmonies and the torn-sneakered snottiness of New York punk making for thrilling sonic schizophrenia with only their own record collections occasionally poached.

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

Although the seven-inch is the smallest of the vinyl formats, it can pack a real punch. This is certainly the case with Bordello A Parigi’s latest discovery, Real Velour. This mysterious outfit draws on a spread of influences for Champions. Warm strings of throbbing bass and crisp drums dawn into shining synthlines as elements of indie and synth-pop melt. Chords are addictive, memorable hooks of pure joy countered by bittersweet lyrics that tell a sorrow-streaked story of calamitous change and dead-end dreams. The flip sheathes the cold wave edge of the original, letting the superb synthwork sing. Bright and uplifting, embers of electro disco smoulder with italo in this intricate instrumental version. A stunning 7” that marries melancholy with melodies of better tomorrows.

Limited to 200 copies.

(Physical release only, Limited edition of 300 hand numbered copies + insert) Psyched Out Grooves from Hungary compiles ten of the most outstanding singles recorded by the underdogs of this period.



The psychedelic scene that never was – the perfect subtitle to this compilation. There were barely any drugs in Hungary to begin with. In this era, alcohol, music, and imagination have served as the primary means of mind alteration among the youth. The Communist party had a firm grip on culture through monopole control over venues, the media, and the recording industry, western records were not available, clubs enforced a strict dress code of suits, shirts, and longer skirts, and the police harassed young men for not more than having long hair or wearing blue jeans.



There was, however, an undercurrent of smaller semi-professional bands striving to succeed in the shadow of the very few stars privileged by the sole state owned record company. Given their chances to release music were at best limited to a few 7“ singles at the mercy of said record company powers. Psyched Out Grooves from Hungary compiles ten of the most outstanding singles recorded by the underdogs of this period. Some of the bands featured on here have eventually reached wider success by switching to more commercial styles, like Bergendy, Neoton, and Apostol. Most, like Echo, Meteor, Kék Csillag, Non-Stop, were temporal formations that dissolved after a few years due to personal conflicts, lack of success, or both. Others, like Scampolo or Juventus, lasted a longer time without an actual break through. Most of these bands never had a consistent, lasting ’psychedelic’ repertoire or identity at any point. These tracks were the exception, not the norm. That coherence - the illusion of a scene - comes from the curation and sequencing of Budabeats head honchos Von Yodi and Gandharva. It is the arrangement of these puzzle pieces that makes them fit together.



Limited edition of 300 hand numbered copies. Edited excerpt from the liner notes written by Gábor Vályi (Dj Shuriken)

"A Dream Is All We Know" lässt die auf Nylonsaiten basierenden Arrangements von "Everything Harmony" hinter sich und kehrt zu dem Stil zurück, den die Brüder erstmals auf "Do Hollywood" vorstellten. "A Dream Is All We Know" verbindet die Theatralik und den Glam-Rock des Lennon-McCartney-Songbuchs mit zeitgenössischen Erzählungen, explosiven E-Gitarren-Riffs sowie den sonnigen Harmonien und ausgeklügelten Aufnahmetechniken der Wilson-Familie und bringt die Liebe zum Detail und die Fähigkeiten der Brüder als Multiinstrumentalisten zum Vorschein. Mit fast einem Jahrzehnt an Songwriting auf dem Buckel zeigt "A Dream Is All We Know" deutlich die Entwicklung der D'Addario-Brüder von rehäugigen Teenagern, die Musik machen wollten, die an ihre Helden erinnert, zu jungen Männern, die die Bühne mit PHOENIX, BLEACHERS, ARCTIC MONKEYS und ihrem musikalischen Helden TODD RUNDGREN teilten, von ELTON JOHN, THE ZOMBIES, GERARD WAY und IGGY POP gelobt wurden und sich zu visionären Songwritern und Arrangeuren entwickelten, deren Werk selbst eine Quelle der Inspiration für andere Künstler ist. "A Dream Is All We Know" wurde komplett mit historischem Equipment aufgenommen und von Brian und Michael selbst abgemischt und gemastert. Das Album zeigt THE LEMON TWIGS, wie sie nach Jahren der Perfektionierung ihres Handwerks mit einem neu entdeckten Sinn für Intuition spielen.

Returning from time apart to a world forever changed, dread-fuelled duo A SWARM OF THE SUN bring with them their fourth studio album, `An Empire'; its brooding, yet beautiful, melancholic narrative arc allows the band to dig ever deeper into desolation whilst a newfound lyrical focus adds a tenderness that is both harrowing and heartwarming at once. With the early bones of forthcoming `An Empire' tabled by events beyond their control in 2019, Erik and Jakob came together years later and scrapped them in favour of creating something entirely new; something distinctly different to break the cycle, defy categorisation and reflect the uncomfortable uncertainties of the times we now live in. The result is astounding; continuing the thread of narrative composition seen on `The Woods', `An Empire' is a six-track tale told in four distinct movements that are nothing short of devastating, from plaintive piano ballads to raw, full-band fury. For instance, taken from the album's third side, lead single `The Burning Wall' embodies this sprawling compositional feat perfectly, with the painfully frank opening couplet of "I know I fail you / I know that I run" establishing a gripping narrative trajectory backed by a simmering, impatient pulse that slowly and inevitably rises to an inescapable crescendo of cymbal chaos and wall-of-sound guitar drone. Elsewhere, 18-minute epic `The Pyre' represents Side B of `An Empire' with the confessional intimacy of a waltz-time ballad; the raw, wavering emotion of Jakob's words accompanied only by a haunting, lilting piano refrain before it too is consumed by the bittersweet might of post-rock euphoria to leave only embers of the apocalyptic lyrics in its wake_ `An Empire' marks a significant evolution of A Swarm of the Sun's already indelible post-metal sound. With increasingly bleak times forcing the band to reassess their relationship with creativity and suffering, this new body of work captures all the anthemic, intimate highs and crushing, debilitating lows of modern life on a knife edge.

Returning from time apart to a world forever changed, dread-fuelled duo A SWARM OF THE SUN bring with them their fourth studio album, `An Empire'; its brooding, yet beautiful, melancholic narrative arc allows the band to dig ever deeper into desolation whilst a newfound lyrical focus adds a tenderness that is both harrowing and heartwarming at once. With the early bones of forthcoming `An Empire' tabled by events beyond their control in 2019, Erik and Jakob came together years later and scrapped them in favour of creating something entirely new; something distinctly different to break the cycle, defy categorisation and reflect the uncomfortable uncertainties of the times we now live in. The result is astounding; continuing the thread of narrative composition seen on `The Woods', `An Empire' is a six-track tale told in four distinct movements that are nothing short of devastating, from plaintive piano ballads to raw, full-band fury. For instance, taken from the album's third side, lead single `The Burning Wall' embodies this sprawling compositional feat perfectly, with the painfully frank opening couplet of "I know I fail you / I know that I run" establishing a gripping narrative trajectory backed by a simmering, impatient pulse that slowly and inevitably rises to an inescapable crescendo of cymbal chaos and wall-of-sound guitar drone. Elsewhere, 18-minute epic `The Pyre' represents Side B of `An Empire' with the confessional intimacy of a waltz-time ballad; the raw, wavering emotion of Jakob's words accompanied only by a haunting, lilting piano refrain before it too is consumed by the bittersweet might of post-rock euphoria to leave only embers of the apocalyptic lyrics in its wake_ `An Empire' marks a significant evolution of A Swarm of the Sun's already indelible post-metal sound. With increasingly bleak times forcing the band to reassess their relationship with creativity and suffering, this new body of work captures all the anthemic, intimate highs and crushing, debilitating lows of modern life on a knife edge.

forgive too slow, Avant Garde artist julia-sophie’s deeply personal debut album is testament to her ability to transform adversity into raw beauty, combining her traditional songwriting roots with her own take on experimental electronica. It features her intimate voice backed by warm and precise electronic sounds whose free spirited explorations give body to the carefully written personal songs julia-sophie comes off the drama of her 2010s rock band, Little Fish, which was signed to a major label. The surreal experiences (like being flown to Las Vegas in helicopters with a bag of slot machine money or given limousines for the day to go shopping), along with having to work in environments where she felt unsafe, drove her decision to leave the fame game. She turned down the offer to emigrate to America and engage with the machinations of the system as it did not feel “true or congruent with who I was”. Instead, she focused her attention on her hometown (Oxford, UK). She started recording lo-fi pop in her garage, using an old laptop, wonky microphones and hitting whatever was around for beats. Candy Says grew to be more of a collective than a band, and eventually co-wrote a film score for indie film Burn Burn Burn and recorded a cover of Running Up That Hill for the Netflix film Close (starring Noomi Rapace). Julia-Sophie soon started recording songs with her friend B, who had a studio stacked from wall-to-wall with analogue recording gear, vintage synths and drum machines. She decided to self-release and the music reached audiences beyond her expectations, including support from BBC Radio 6 and a feature in The Quietus. forgive too slow is Julia-Sophie’s debut solo album, and concerns relationships and the struggles we go through when we “forgive too slow” and can’t break out of patterns from the past. The songs narrate her story of self-destruction (“numb”), love (“falling”), and loss (“telephone”). By the end, embers are still burning and there is no telling if Julia-Sophie has found peace, but we do get a sense that she has gotten closer to the core of her being and is finally living authentically.

Scottish experimental/electronic musician Drew McDowall's lifelong interest in an elegiac solo bagpipe style called pibroch (ceòl mòr in Gaelic) has been an inspiration for much of his previous work (including Coil's legendary Time Machines). This form, often traditionally used for laments and for tributes to the dead, fuses modal drones with flickering dissonance and plaintive melody evoking an ancient, solemn mood. His latest work, A Thread, Silvered and Trembling, both incorporates and transforms these elements via exploratory electronic processing, weaving an electro-acoustic tapestry of strings, shudders, voids, and voices, alternately disembodied and displaced. Co-produced with engineer Randall Dunn at Circular Ruin Studios in Brooklyn, the collection's four pieces capture McDowall at his most elevated and elusive, in thrall to "the ineffable - that which refuses to be spoken." McDowall's palette here is unusually eclectic, sourced from a dynamic orchestral ensemble arranged by Brent Arnold and comprised of cello, viola, violin, harp (Marilu Donovan of LEYA), and french horn. Ebbing between shrouded electronics and enigmatic, sometimes spectralist orchestration, the album moves with a seething, simmering energy, surging into elegant, uneasy crescendos. The first two pieces are inspired by a liberatory hijacking and inversion of a grim biblical story (and by a cryptic and strange UK simple syrup branding). Opener "Out of Strength Comes Sweetness" shivers with short echo and resonant pads, before shifting into the album's centerpiece: the 14-minute saga "And Lions Will Sing with Joy." A murmuring electrical storm of keening strings and disorienting drones gradually grows darker and denser, until suddenly there's a crack in the clouds, revealing mutated choral voices and sparkling harp. McDowall describes the track as "an incantation to help usher in a break, and a new beginning." The record's latter half evokes a deep untamed animism shot through with spiraling radiance. "In Wound and Water" sways with harp, plucked strings and eerie cello undertows while lush layers of disorientated electronics hang in the dusk. There is no resolution, only a faint gradient of fragile dissipation, leading into the album's harrowing and climactic closer, "A Dream of a Cartographic Membrane Dissolves." Processed voices (credited on the liner notes to "The Ghosts Who Refuse to Rest") contort, whisper, and gather as the rest of the ensemble sharpens, poising to strike. Then it does - grand, tragic stabs of strings and horns lashing the sky, storming heaven by force. The fallout is poetic and inevitable, raining embers into a dark sea. But the journey and catharsis of A Thread linger long after it goes silent. Like so much of McDowall's multifaceted catalog, this is music of immanence and alchemy, attuned equally to the sacred and the profane, to the tile and the mosaic.

Heavener', the fourth album 2023 by the Port Neches, Texas, metalcore band Invent Animate. The release follows their most recent single 'Elysium', which earned praise from RockSound "an atmospheric and pain-staking piece of modern metalcore brute force", Wall of Sound, and Heavy Mag. Their 2021 EP 'The Sun Sleeps, As If It Never Was' 2M+ streams earned praise from HM Magazine "a powerful discourse on the ricochet effect of trauma and addiction", Wall of Sound "dark in nature yet beautifully honest", and Blunt Magazine. 2020 full-length 'Greyview' has 10M+ streams. Additional praise from Kill Your Stereo, Frontview Magazine, Chaospin, Distorted Sound. Released independently via Australia's leading heavy music label UNFD.

It’s burning, everything is catching fire, and Aquaserge are singing and dancing on the embers of a world contemplated in a rear-view mirror. A world which is hyper-connected, yet forgets its primary emotions.

This seventh album by the band is an ecological poem, where present and past collide. A resolutely rock-sounding album, laced with electronics, experimental pop songs and audio archives. Along the way, the listeners will encounter traces of Oulipo (the famous experimental French literary movement founded in the ’60st), Dada and free jazz. They will cross paths with the ghosts of Ennio Morricone, Walter Benjamin and Marguerite Duras, with the shadows of Kim Gordon and Brigitte Fontaine. And other audacious and exciting melanges, in the pure tradition of Aquaserge.

The album was arranged and produced by Benjamin Glibert, the band’s guitarist and main composer.

The recording took place in a house located in the french countryside (where Aquaserge’s mobile studio was installed). The mix was done at Studio St Guidon in Brussels, the album was mastered by the legendary Dominique Blanc-Francard at the Labomatic studio in Paris.

The members of the band’s current line-up all took part in the recording: Audrey Ginestet (vocals, bass, guitar, etc.), Benjamin Glibert (vocals, guitar, keyboards, etc.), Olivier Kelchtermans (saxophones, keyboards, vocals, etc.), Manon Glibert (clarinets, vocals, etc.) and Julien Chamla (drums, vocals, etc.).

Ultimately about self trust, Nicholson uses brooding chamber- pop and synthladen alt-pop to navigate many of the different relationships we have in our lives: friends, family, relationships with ourselves and, more personally, her changing relationship with music.

Self-produced by Nicholson at Blank Studios in Newcastle, the recording process was complemented by mix engineer Oli Deakin (CMAT, Benjamin Francis Leftwich, Elanor Moss) and mastering engineer Katie Tavini (Arlo Parks, Nadine Shah, Sega Bodega).

The resultant album takes the listener on intimate journeys of minimalism and melancholy through to blooming, euphoric ends, with Nicholson's signature rich harmonies and ethereal, reed- like vocals remaining a compelling constant. Exploring themes of escapism, nostalgia and self-reflection, Nicholson leans on musical influences including Daughter, Matt Corby, The National, Warpaint, Lucy Rose and Laura Marling. There are also nods to her prog-rock upbringing and 80s inspired outros that wouldn't sound out of place on the soundtracks to Drive and Stranger Things.

1981, the leaden years are over, the socialist left is in power in France and the first wave of punk seems a long way off. However, the youth of the day had not said its last word, and bands were springing up all over the place, free radio stations were opening up, fanzines were being published, concerts were being staged on the fly and little by little a scene was forming, a motley crew of kids in revolt, radical activists and just plain old folk passing through.

After having cut their teeth in a variety of more or less confidential bands, in which you'd come across a good number of players from this up-and-coming alternative scene, the members of Guernica moved up a gear, determined to blow on the still-glowing embers of rebel rock. With the shortage of venues the rule at the time, they began by scouring the suburban MJCs, putting on wild concerts and eventually meeting up with the squatters of the Couronnes commune and the members of V.I.S.A., with whom they played an active part in organising concerts in squatted buildings in these relegated areas of the capital.

In February 1983, the V.I.S.A. association and the Abattoir art collective (which included some members of Guernica) organised a concert at the Usine Pali-Kao. That evening, two groups took to the stage in succession: Guernica and a fledgling duo, Bérurier Noir. The evening will go down in the history of alternative rock as one of the key turning points of the period. After the departure of Loran, who played guitar with both bands, Fabrice Benoît joined Guernica on guitar, and the gang continued for a few more months, ending on a high note with a chaotic concert at the Eldorado in Paris.

Until now, it's been impossible to get your hands on any of the band's recordings unless you're lucky enough to own the Paris Mix compilation, the Guernica/Bérurier Noir split or the V.I.S.A. Usine Cascades 1982 cassette. This vinyl, a perfect record of the era, brings together the six tracks recorded by the band at the time.

Originally released on tape by SicSic in 2014, Aprilnacht commemorates a decade of music from Brannten Schnüre and marked the spring in a tetralogy of albums about the four seasons when it came out. Back then the Würzburg-based project consisted solely of Christian Schoppik, who later welcomed Katie Rich to take over the vocals. He used to perform as Agnes Beil, but dropped the name when, while making this album realized his music was becoming "much gentler and more fragile". Aprilnacht already captured the particular musical ideas that Schoppik would thoroughly keep exploring, delving deeper and deeper into the use and manipulation of samplers from sources so diverging as to wander between the five continents to post-war German family television and cult cinema. Heir of the ritualistic intensity of Coil, of the intricate sampler assemblies of Ghédalia Tazartès', and of the dusty, dismal old ballads from around the world, Brannten Schnüre manages to make these paths cross in a territory that is as inherent as it is uncanny; sieged by the past and intimate as a hearth. An organic approach to folk, ambient, and sound collage, where ethereal yet thoroughly textured pieces coalesce in enthralling, delicate, and innermost musical rituals.

The album cover paintings reveal the temper: dreary old towns where shadows come to dim the slow passage of crepuscular colors, a soft area of reanimation where wind and light come close and foresee the night of spring. Aprilnacht was inspired by the stories of German philosopher and writer Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr, whose work exhaustively examines the conflict between paganism and Christianity, safeguarding myth in a way that Schoppik describes as boldly modern, humorous and unpredictable in its variations of the Germanic folklore motifs. "I wanted to do the same with the music," he states, and the music here could as well be suitable for a night when household deities welcome wandering will-o'-the-wisps, water nymphs, and gyrovagues to discuss Perchta's leadership of The Wild Hunt, but this album is not a folk tale, it's not an elegy to worlds already gone, hidden in years; it's an intersection of routes that open mysteriously before our ears like a congregation of vapors. Aprilnacht is a gathering of voices; "There are too many children, and none of them keeps quiet," reads the last verse of «Requiem für eine Ringelnatter.»

Sensuality drips over the music to celebrate both the voluptuousness and tragic quality of nature; "It's raining on me, urine from your flowers," Schoppik sings in «Urin deiner Blüten» and later on, faced with a snake's erotic features, as if he wanted to be embraced by it: "Your quick, sharp tongue and your warm venom; that's what the pond is missing." Orality is where this profusion of contents thrives. When the voices get closer and condense, the words reveal the saliva employed to pronounce them; we feel the mouth and the tongue, but when breath envelops them in sorrow and softens their edges, they sound distant, diffused in the atmosphere, letting go of the body that held them. These two vocal facets oscillate permanently and interact naturally with the fertile assembly of samplers and instruments that develop throughout the album, which condense and disperse impersonating each other, interweaving to search for a specific syntax. Tangled whisperings of enigmatic phrases, timid voices that stick out to check the scene but hide away quickly, shivering trance chants and monastic ambiances, distant screams and clamors in between chaos and warfare swirl until bursting into subtle songs where even Mother Mary comes forth softly. Soothed by foggy atmospheres and crackling punctuations, these voices shape a vulnerable crowd, an occasion of fragility. Along this swarm of songs thrown into thin air, accordions sound like heavy-breathing lungs; clarinets sigh like curtains shaking; violin solos wander around like bees; Gjallarhorns cries distend like fleeing cattle; glockenspiels evoke remote music boxes and inherited toys; backward emanations emerge like slender waves retreating. On the banks of stretching loops and ember textures is where the songs slowly nest, collecting the words to find their tone.

A poem by Jorge Teillier says, "To talk with the dead you have to choose words that they recognize as easily as their hands recognized the fur of their dogs in the dark. To talk with the dead you have to know how to wait: they are fearful like the first steps of a child. But if we are patient one day they will answer us with a flame that suddenly revives in the fireplace." This may be Brannten Schnüre's main purpose: To find the voice to speak to those of whom we were a vision. Not in mourning, but acknowledging the obscure and volatile nature of spring's regenerative force, searching for the treasure of balance, as evidenced in the lyrics of «Requiem für ein Schwalbennest,» "Its nest was destroyed so many times before it was finished, and despite that, the shallow builds as if it is infatuated." The same idea is here in the words of Schmid Noerr, who made poetry an act of resistance to the horror of Nazism; "Since having seen the ability of a brilliant spirit to die, with a calm mouth that everyone saw, health is true again and we affirm it, even if rivers of blood flow." And as we call for the dusk's kindness, waiting to return home and eat with our kin by the stove, our ears become used to the games of the night. We feel like we're rowing on wetlands, while the "moon musick" keeps us vigilant against the slightest movement of water or sweet moan because eeriness here is imperative for survival. Do not succumb to the insipid howl of death, for nothing may last but mutability. You see, the rock has moved a little during the night; the rest is just wind fleeing from the void.

Elevating, uplifting and beautifully arranged. Jasmine Myra's sophomore album Rising builds on the success of her

breakthrough album Horizons to deliver a major statement from one of UK Jazz's rising stars. Produced by Matthew Halsall and mixed by Greg Freeman (Hania Rani, Matthew Halsall, Portico Quartet), Rising delivers a confident and vibrant follow up that joins the musical dots between Myra’s influences Kenny Wheeler, Bonobo and Shabaka Hutchings while delivering something unique, beautiful and profound.

Rising is also the sound of a composer and performer growing in stature and adding extra layers of confidence and poise to both her playing and composing. Aided and abetted by Matthew Halsall who once again lends his production skills, Rising is fuller, richer and deeper as Myra develops her uniquely uplifting sound.



Much like my first album, Rising is a reflection of a period of my life. It is a continuation from Horizons, which was all about my experience during lockdown, and entailed overcoming my struggles with mental health. Following on from that experience, I set out to continue building my self-confidence. This album has an uplifting and spiritual sound, drawing influence from artists such as Makaya McCraven, Bonobo and Shabaka Hutchings.



Rising features the same core of musicians as Myra’s debut album Horizons (Gondwana records GOND052): guitarist Ben Haskins, drummer George Hall pianist Jasper Green, harpist Alice Roberts (who both also perform with Matthew Halsall) and bassist Sam Quintana who collectively bring a deft understating of the subtle textures of Myra’s music and perform with a collective empathy and drive that really pushes the music on a radiant journey. And a string quartet add gently elevating textures to Still Waters, Knowingness, From Embers and How Tall The Mountains.

Holland, Dozier and Holland are arguably the greatest songwriters ever. More prolific than Lennon and McCartney, they shaped “the Sound of Young America” and propelled the Motown sound in the mid-1960s into a creative stratosphere unmatched by any other independent music label. Their trademark catchy teenage love songs were delivered energetically by previously unknown Detroit groups like The Supremes, the Four Tops, Martha & the Vandellas & Marvin Gaye. Although synonymous with Berry Gordy’s Motown, it was their departure from Motown after a stand-off strike in 1967 and a brutal legal battle that led them to run their own group of labels, Invictus, Hot Wax and Music Merchant. This compilation is a definitive look at this period in history, exploring how H-D-H, under a new guise ‘The Creative Corporation’, drove the next generation of soul music in a myriad of different ways, towards funk, underground disco and jazz. Featuring 55 tracks, this collection documents HDH’s creativity and growth over this seminal 8 year period. During this time the trio developed new artists to rival Motown’s success such as Chairman Of The Board, Freda Payne, Honey Cone, Glass House, Flaming Ember, 8th Day, Laura Lee & Eloise Laws. The collection is complete with a detailed depiction of this period in history by award winning author Stuart Cosgrove who wrote the Soul Trilogy, a series of books on soul music and social change - Detroit 67: the Year That Changed Soul, Memphis 68: The Tragedy of Southern Soul which won the Penderyn Prize, as Music Book of the Year in 2018, and Harlem 69: the Future of Soul. Stuart’s notes detail the relationship with Motown in the final days, the immediate fall out after the trio left Motown and the creation of the new labels Hot Wax, Invictus & Music Merchant

Seit der Veröffentlichung des ersten Terminal Nation-Albums "Holocene Extinction" im Jahr 2020 haben sich die Spaltungen in den USA nur noch vergrößert, die Fronten verhärtet und Kompromisse sind keine Option mehr. Das brandheiße neue Album "Echoes Of The Devil's Den" der Band verkörpert diese kochende Wut und erscheint einmal mehr am Vorabend eines wiederkehrenden Albtraum-Wahlzyklus mit fossilen Relikten aus dem 20 Jahrhundert.

Die Esenz von Terminal Nation besteht im Kern aus unverschämt heavy Midtempo-Riffing und Bulldozer-Breakdowns, die auf ein neues Niveau extremer Brutalität gebracht wurden - über denen Stan Liszewskis giftige Stimme die brodelnde Wut einer Bevölkerung ausstrahlt, die mit ihrer Geduld am Ende ist.

Doch jenseits dieses Unterbaus hat sich Terminal Nation's Songwriting beträchtlich weiterentwickelt, was sich in Songs wie 'Embers of Humanity' zeigt, der ein episches Heavy Metal-Flair in seine Balladen einbaut und sich zu einem Stadion-Banger steigert. Auf der Single 'Merchants of Bloodshed' streut die Band hymnischen, fast schon radiotauglichen Clean-Gesang von Jesse Leach (Killswitch Engage) ein - nur einer von vielen Gastauftritten auf dem Album.

Textlich predigt die Band in "Echoes of the Devil's Den" sowohl mit der vernichtenden Gesellschaftskritik, für die sie bekannt ist, als auch mit einer eher intimen, reflektierenden Erzählung, die sich auf einige massive persönliche Umwälzungen bezieht, die sie in den vorangegangenen Jahren durchgemacht hat. Geschmiedet in den Feuern einer schwelenden Frustration, greift Terminal Nation's "Echoes of the Devil's Den" mit der Kraft eines ausbrechenden Vulkans an und verbrennt die Falschheit unseres Zeitalters zu Asche!

Additional Vocals auf "Written by The Victor" by Todd Jones of Nails
Additional Vocals auf "Merchants of Bloodshed" by Jesse Leach of Killswitch Engage
Additional Vocals auf "Cemetery of Imposters" by K. Kennedy of Sex Prisoner
Additional Vocals auf "Spikes Under the Bridge" by Zak Vargas of Elysia
Additional Vocals auf "Release the Serpents" by Dwid Hellion of Integrity
Additional Drums auf "Written by the Victor" and "Dying Alive" by Juan Cebreros

Seit der Veröffentlichung des ersten Terminal Nation-Albums "Holocene Extinction" im Jahr 2020 haben sich die Spaltungen in den USA nur noch vergrößert, die Fronten verhärtet und Kompromisse sind keine Option mehr. Das brandheiße neue Album "Echoes Of The Devil's Den" der Band verkörpert diese kochende Wut und erscheint einmal mehr am Vorabend eines wiederkehrenden Albtraum-Wahlzyklus mit fossilen Relikten aus dem 20 Jahrhundert.

Die Esenz von Terminal Nation besteht im Kern aus unverschämt heavy Midtempo-Riffing und Bulldozer-Breakdowns, die auf ein neues Niveau extremer Brutalität gebracht wurden - über denen Stan Liszewskis giftige Stimme die brodelnde Wut einer Bevölkerung ausstrahlt, die mit ihrer Geduld am Ende ist.

Doch jenseits dieses Unterbaus hat sich Terminal Nation's Songwriting beträchtlich weiterentwickelt, was sich in Songs wie 'Embers of Humanity' zeigt, der ein episches Heavy Metal-Flair in seine Balladen einbaut und sich zu einem Stadion-Banger steigert. Auf der Single 'Merchants of Bloodshed' streut die Band hymnischen, fast schon radiotauglichen Clean-Gesang von Jesse Leach (Killswitch Engage) ein - nur einer von vielen Gastauftritten auf dem Album.

Textlich predigt die Band in "Echoes of the Devil's Den" sowohl mit der vernichtenden Gesellschaftskritik, für die sie bekannt ist, als auch mit einer eher intimen, reflektierenden Erzählung, die sich auf einige massive persönliche Umwälzungen bezieht, die sie in den vorangegangenen Jahren durchgemacht hat. Geschmiedet in den Feuern einer schwelenden Frustration, greift Terminal Nation's "Echoes of the Devil's Den" mit der Kraft eines ausbrechenden Vulkans an und verbrennt die Falschheit unseres Zeitalters zu Asche!

Additional Vocals auf "Written by The Victor" by Todd Jones of Nails
Additional Vocals auf "Merchants of Bloodshed" by Jesse Leach of Killswitch Engage
Additional Vocals auf "Cemetery of Imposters" by K. Kennedy of Sex Prisoner
Additional Vocals auf "Spikes Under the Bridge" by Zak Vargas of Elysia
Additional Vocals auf "Release the Serpents" by Dwid Hellion of Integrity
Additional Drums auf "Written by the Victor" and "Dying Alive" by Juan Cebreros