Buscar:the end of all existence

'A Winged Victory For The Sullen' is the first installment of the new collaboration between Stars Of The Lid member Adam Wiltzie and L.A. composer Dustin O'Halloran. The duo agreed to leave the comfort zone of their home studios and develop the recordings with the help of large acoustic spaces, hunting down a selection of 9ft grand pianos that had the ability to deliver extreme sonic low end.

Other traditional instrumentation was used including string quartet, French horn, and bassoon, but always juxtaposed is the sound of drifting guitar washed melodies. The recordings began with one late night session in the famed Grunewald Church in Berlin on a 1950's imperial B?sendorfer piano and strings were added in the historic East Berlin DDR radio studios along the River Spree. One last session on a handmade Fazioli piano in a private studio on the Northern cusp of Italy, before the final mixes took place in a 17th century villa near Ferrara with the assistance of Francesco Donadello. All songs were then processed completely analogue straight to magnetic tape.

Their secret to harvesting new melodic structures from the thin air of existence was for the duo to push themselves to dangerous territory, realising that clear thinking at the wrong moment could stifle the compositions. The final result is seven landscapes of harmonic ingemination. In 'Requiem For The Static King Part One' ? created in memory of the untimely passing of Mark Linkous ? they have taken the age-old idea of a string quartet and then shot it out of a cannon to reveal exquisite new levels of sonic bliss.

Of the 13 minute track 'Symphony Path?tique', Wiltzie says 'after almost 20 years of struggling to create interesting ambient drone music, I feel like I have finally figured out what I am doing'. Notable guest musicians include Icelandic cellist Hildur Gudnadottir, as well as Erased Tapes label comrade Peter Broderick on violin. A Winged Victory For The Sullen is not a side project ? it is the future of the late night record you have always dreamed of. A Major release for Forte, Non exportable.

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

10 songs from what is possibly the best anarchopunk band currently in existence. The dynamics of the tracks are refreshingly simple, a powerful yet neutral- sounding recording, with very little embellishment or stylized production to hide behind, approaching filth with distorted guitars, haunting bass lines, and steady drum beats, all elevated by the combination of the three voices perfectly balanced between melody and hatred. In a quantized world, one can perceive an endearing dose of human spirit through their tense and disturbingly melodic expressions. A modern Anarcho Punk classic that is surprising to find 40 years after the wonderful bands that spawned the genre, especially England. Includes poster and insert with lyrics.

Since reviewing Pomegranate Seeds: An International Benefit for Mutual Aid in Gaza, the compilation put out by the DISSIDENTS, I've been hunting for more VAMPIRE material, so when I saw I was assigned this LP I became very excited. VAMPIRE is an Australian band that plays apocalyptic anarcho- punk. A sense of extreme urgency pervades VAMPIRE's sound, and What Seems Forever Can Be Broken is ten songs that combine the demanding hardcore of CONFLICT, with a foundation of CRASS, and the rough-hewn delivery of raw punk. The resulting album is dark, hauntingly mesmeric, but also aggressive with a sense of communal voice. In other words, this is anarchopunk that is of the moment, and articulates exactly what contemporary punk is about without being preachy or elitist. This is that eye-to-eye, in-the-trenches vocalization of criticism that comes off as eye-opening and perspective-altering. What Seems Forever Can Be Broken is by far my favorite release thus far in 2025, but also might be the best album I've heard in a really long time. Like, this is benchmark-level material, so definitely give this a listen.

NA ZAROT opens a portal into a universe of darkness, chaos and spiritual upheaval. The sound is raw, jagged like cold iron and radically unpolished-an antithesis to any romanticized or völkisch fantasy, firmly rooted in an anti-fascist stance. NA ZAROT shapes lo-fi black metal infused with traces of punk as a counter-space: a place where archaic directness meets a dense, spiritually charged atmosphere that unfolds a hypnotic pull even within the noise. The production remains deliberately fragmented and unrefined-a kind of emotional excavation protocol that exposes the core of the genre without glorifying it. Lyrically, the tracks revolve around death, decay, isolation, spiritual disintegration and those threshold moments in which the abyss releases a strangely unsettling calm. Musically, sawing guitars, brutal screams, driving drums, sickly strings, ghostly voices and a distorted piano collide. Above it all lies a weight of leaden sorrow, until sudden ruptures drag the pieces without warning into even deeper darkness. Side A presents the tracks from the On Death and Dying tape, where literary spaces intersect with personal experiences. The lyrics brush against literary references such as Mallarmé's death poems, the legend of La Llorona or motifs from Romain Gary's The Dance of Genghis Cohn.Side B offers new, previously unreleased material titled "Alpensterben." The four songs preserve those unheard screams that would otherwise vanish into nothingness. Alpensterben becomes a blood-marked journey through the final hours of an existence scraping against its own ending-an intense, haunting echo of lived despair. Comes with printed 28page 10" magazine!

NA ZAROT opens a portal into a universe of darkness, chaos and spiritual upheaval. The sound is raw, jagged like cold iron and radically unpolished-an antithesis to any romanticized or völkisch fantasy, firmly rooted in an anti-fascist stance. NA ZAROT shapes lo-fi black metal infused with traces of punk as a counter-space: a place where archaic directness meets a dense, spiritually charged atmosphere that unfolds a hypnotic pull even within the noise. The production remains deliberately fragmented and unrefined-a kind of emotional excavation protocol that exposes the core of the genre without glorifying it. Lyrically, the tracks revolve around death, decay, isolation, spiritual disintegration and those threshold moments in which the abyss releases a strangely unsettling calm. Musically, sawing guitars, brutal screams, driving drums, sickly strings, ghostly voices and a distorted piano collide. Above it all lies a weight of leaden sorrow, until sudden ruptures drag the pieces without warning into even deeper darkness. Side A presents the tracks from the On Death and Dying tape, where literary spaces intersect with personal experiences. The lyrics brush against literary references such as Mallarmé's death poems, the legend of La Llorona or motifs from Romain Gary's The Dance of Genghis Cohn.Side B offers new, previously unreleased material titled "Alpensterben." The four songs preserve those unheard screams that would otherwise vanish into nothingness. Alpensterben becomes a blood-marked journey through the final hours of an existence scraping against its own ending-an intense, haunting echo of lived despair. Comes with printed 28page 10" magazine!

Mit ihrem neuen Werk "Liturgy of Death" bekräftigen MAYHEM ihren Status als kompromissloseste Kraft des norwegischen Black Metal. Nach vier Jahrzehnten des Exzesses hat die Band einen neuen Höhepunkt erreicht: schneller, heftiger und finsterer als alles andere in ihrem bisherigen Schaffen. Das Album entfaltet sich als unerbittliche Meditation über den Tod in all seinen Erscheinungsformen - existentiell, spirituell und absolut. Vom wütenden Chaos von "Despair" und "Funeral of Existence" bis zur düsteren Erhabenheit von "Ephemeral Eternity" und "Aeon's End" zieht jeder Track den Hörer tiefer in ein Ritual des Elends und der Transzendenz hinein. "Propitious Death" und "The Sentence of Absolution" verbinden Brutalität mit einer bedrohlichen Atmosphäre, während "Life Is a Corpse You Drag" und "Sancta Mendacia" keinen Zweifel daran lassen, dass Mayhem nach wie vor unübertroffen darin sind, Verzweiflung in Klang umzusetzen.

Mit Necrobutcher, Hellhammer, Attila, Teloch und Ghul, die enger denn je zusammenarbeiten, präsentiert "Liturgy of Death" eine Band, die sich nicht mit ihrem Erbe zufrieden gibt, sondern entschlossen ist, die Grenzen des Extremen selbst zu erweitern. Das Ergebnis ist ein gnadenloses Album - düster, schnell und unerbittlich -, das Mayhem in ihrer gefährlichsten und vitalsten Form einfängt. Vierzig Jahre nach ihrer Gründung in Langhus verkörpern MAYHEM weiterhin das Chaos und beweisen einmal mehr, dass der norwegische Black Metal eine Kraft ohne Ende ist.

Mit ihrem neuen Werk "Liturgy of Death" bekräftigen MAYHEM ihren Status als kompromissloseste Kraft des norwegischen Black Metal. Nach vier Jahrzehnten des Exzesses hat die Band einen neuen Höhepunkt erreicht: schneller, heftiger und finsterer als alles andere in ihrem bisherigen Schaffen. Das Album entfaltet sich als unerbittliche Meditation über den Tod in all seinen Erscheinungsformen - existentiell, spirituell und absolut. Vom wütenden Chaos von "Despair" und "Funeral of Existence" bis zur düsteren Erhabenheit von "Ephemeral Eternity" und "Aeon's End" zieht jeder Track den Hörer tiefer in ein Ritual des Elends und der Transzendenz hinein. "Propitious Death" und "The Sentence of Absolution" verbinden Brutalität mit einer bedrohlichen Atmosphäre, während "Life Is a Corpse You Drag" und "Sancta Mendacia" keinen Zweifel daran lassen, dass Mayhem nach wie vor unübertroffen darin sind, Verzweiflung in Klang umzusetzen.

Mit Necrobutcher, Hellhammer, Attila, Teloch und Ghul, die enger denn je zusammenarbeiten, präsentiert "Liturgy of Death" eine Band, die sich nicht mit ihrem Erbe zufrieden gibt, sondern entschlossen ist, die Grenzen des Extremen selbst zu erweitern. Das Ergebnis ist ein gnadenloses Album - düster, schnell und unerbittlich -, das Mayhem in ihrer gefährlichsten und vitalsten Form einfängt. Vierzig Jahre nach ihrer Gründung in Langhus verkörpern MAYHEM weiterhin das Chaos und beweisen einmal mehr, dass der norwegische Black Metal eine Kraft ohne Ende ist.

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

'Songs and Bodies' is best described as hypnagogic post-rock, an impressionistic blur of dissociated riffs, jazzy rhythms and half-heard voices that casts a beguiling digital silhouette of '90s indie music. The album began as a personal experiment, a question that emerged as Piotr Kurek cast his mind back to the era that birthed bands like Gastr del Sol, Bark Psychosis, Labradford and The Sea and Cake. Curious how this music might sound in today’s cultural climate, he started recording sketches at home on guitar and keyboard, applying the same advanced processing, editing and manipulation techniques that had nourished his last run of albums. Early on, he brought in drummer Mateusz Rychlicki and bassist Wojciech Traczyk, layering their performances into the evolving material. These ideas might have remained in that unvarnished state had Unsound not suggested a live performance of the work in October 2024. Spurred by the invitation, Kurek hardened his resolve, finishing a crumpled, uncanny set of half-songs that extend the chimerical sonic universe of the jazz-inspired 'Smartwoods' and its baroque predecessor 'Peach Blossom'.

Not an exercise in nostalgia, 'Songs and Bodies' is an examination of the '90s and '00s experimental rock canon that isolates its humanity as the world stares down a new technological dawn. At a glance, Kurek's songs are remarkably organic, diaphanous guitar-led meditations embellished with era-specific organ and electric piano vamps, cryptic vocal utterances and dusty drums, but it's all an illusion. Listen a little closer and the wrinkles appear—the robotic, garbled articulations, awkward tempo fluctuations and charming hiccups.

Kurek distills these vulnerabilities and blemishes to present a deeply personal but relatable abstraction of familiar sounds and gestures. It's the closest the composer has come to old-fashioned songwriting, but the end result is the same: an invitation to look beyond the frosted glass of an increasingly digital existence.

Emile Sornin has a robot in his life. It's not love, but it's not friendship either, and Forever Pavot is releasing an album documenting the affair on Born Bad. After a bunch of bold pop studio albums and a small stack of soundtracks, Emile needed a break. To put an end to it, he embarked with handyman extraordinaire Jonas Euvremer on the manufacture of an automaton destined to make his musician’s life easier. Melchior, who gave his name to the record, has the face of a ventriloquist's dummy, two plastic left hands, preppy clothes and a primitive logic circuit. This goodie two-shoes cousin of Bender’s is supposed to be doing the interviews and deal with socials for Emile. The plan worked admirably : Melchior is a perfect cover-boy, and his very existence has put our man back to work.



They set a path for phat electronic ventures (and by the way, mostly english-speaking). Sub- continental bass & massive drums, heavy-footed and unabashed : as much appreciated as unexpected. The half-android shares songwriting credits and vocal parts vocoded to perfection. Not a jealous lad, Melchior makes way for a guest of choice on “UFO” and “Waiting for the sign” : Lispector. Julie Margat sings and collaborated on the lyrics for these two bangers that provide a lot of context (robot angst is real). Kumisolo, our favorite Japanese « it » girl in Paris, also sent her “Postcard”, more vapour than song, unreal musical cotton candy of arrangements.


Domotic, who mixes and co-produces, gives a nice spin to “Count to 10”, a hip-hop/kraut crossover with a BEAK> flavour. The Forever Pavot, once a big-band, will be touring as a bass/ drums/keys & vocals trio, with Melchior as guest.



Record after record, Emile Sornin has become an increasingly literate musical illiterate. When needed, his music can still become a thicket of ancient and modern finds. « Le robot gentilhomme », a skillful pastiche of baroque composer Jean-Baptiste Lully, would stand a few rounds against Wendy Carlos. His love for oldies also shines through “Skyway”, a nod to the late Pierre Arvay, France’s Colonel Sanders of library music nuggets.



Forever Pavot may have gone wild, but remains indebted vis-à-vis the golden age of film music. Forebears deluxe Ennio Morricone & François de Roubaix make Hitchcock-style cameos: discreet appearances that you’ll watch out for (those syncopated cascades of syllables at the end of « UFO », and I guess we can indulge with some clavichord/ondioline Victoria sponge). His new flirt is all but a toxic relationship. « Melchior, Vol. 1 »: the robo-bromance is not over yet.

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

“…I still don’t understand what is the meaning of these Poppers records, please unsubscribe me from this newsletter.”
•⁠ ⁠Hans Zimmer

If you’ve ever been in the countryside and happened to lift a larger rock that might have been laying about for a while only to find an entourage of many different insects scrambling about in awe of the existence of sunlight and wondered what music they might have been listening to in that moment, the A-side tries to explore ways of responding to such curiosities. While the B-side, to end things on a good note, offers a convenient edit of live Japanese cover version of Paul McCartney’s “Silly Love Song” along with the quintessential prelude (or interlude) to a Horse Meat Disco party with the opening monologue of Sidney Lumet’s Equus. All in all, a Swiss Army knife packed with an assortment of most likely useless tools, courtesy of DJ Dipshit.

“'Lyceum' is a fountainhead of unqualified greatness. It’s a strange, sad sound harking back to old school tunesmanship – Aztec Camera, ‘Rattlesnakes’, prime-time Felt – but the whole affair is permeated with a resonant, almost tearful quality. ‘Lyceum’ is reminiscent of Galaxie 500’s ‘Today’ in that it sounds like it cost less than a round of drinks to produce. But the lo fi sound merely enhances the misty glazed-pop sound and raises the hallelujah choruses to the forefront. Rather than drowning them in production mush. Don’t pass it by”.
– Bob Stanley, Melody Maker 1989
Hailing from the suburbs of Glasgow, this five-piece are best known for their three starry-eyed albums on the renowned Sarah Records - this being an expanded version of their first (an eight-track 10” at the time).
By the tail end of the 1980s the independent music scene in the UK was turning its back on the polish and over-indulgence of the mid-80s with its gated drums and wallpaper production. And those who weren’t stretching the boundaries of sonic innovation had tuned back to the post-punk ethos of ramshackle charm and zealous melody, even dousing the spirit with some political fervour once more. Influences were more likely to be Television and the Television Personalities than MTV.
The Orchids and The Sea Urchins were the first two bands to release 7” singles on the Sarah label having previously begun their recording existence on a shared flexi disc in 1987 (The Sea Urchins went on to become Delta, whose classic album ‘Slippin' Out’ from 2000 will be the second release on Circuitry). The Scottish five-piece released ‘I’ve Got a Habit’ and ‘Underneath the Window, Underneath the Sink’ as EPs before really finding their feet with ‘Lyceum’; the tracks, remastered from the original Toad Hall tapes are included on this reissue as are the three songs from the ‘What Will We Do Next?’ 7” (this collection closes with the frazzled stretch that is ‘Yawn’). 'Lyceum' was originally released in August 1989.
The album opens with ‘It’s Only Obvious’ and its gloriously youthful chorus of “who needs tomorrow when all I need, all I needed was you”. James Hackett somehow appears both forthright and rejected, something that one of their musical heroes The Go-Betweens also had down to a fine art. It barely takes a breath until midway through side two where ‘Hold On’ (sounding suspiciously like an unlikely objective) descends into the intro of ‘Blue Light’, the counted-in ‘1, 2, 3, 4’ whispered like the most hopelessly dejected rally. If that sounds depressing it isn’t. This record by The Orchids was a spirited source of comfort for an 18 year old at the time and still shudders with the best type of melancholy, one that’s spirited not indulgent. If you’re not familiar with the band’s charm, this is where you should begin.
'Lyceum' is released on double black vinyl by new label Circuitry.

It"s been six years since LA DISPUTE released their last album, Panorama. Since then, the Michigan post-hardcore band-made up of Jordan Dreyer on vocals, Brad Vander Lugt on drums, Chad Morgan-Sterenberg and Corey Stroffolino on guitar, and Adam Vass on bass-dealt with the stagnance of the pandemic, celebrated the ten-year anniversaries of Wildlife and Rooms Of The House, and began working on NO ONE WAS DRIVING THE CAR. The fifth studio LP is the first entirely produced by the group, and it came together in Grand Rapids and Detroit, the United Kingdom, Australia, and the Philippines: "I think the change in environment was really helpful to breathing new life into the process each time we came back to it," Dreyer says. Partly inspired by the 2017 psychological thriller First Reformed, NO ONE WAS DRIVING THE CAR reckons with malaise in the shadow of the looming apocalypse, which has noticeably been worsened by the advancement of tech. The title comes from a quote from a police officer Dreyer read in a news article about a lethal self-driving Tesla crash, an absurd event which raises questions about the amount of control we have in our own lives. In fourteen dynamic tracks, the band grapples with the existential topic and the human need to find comfort and a sense of security in an existence where we"re often thrust into chaos without permission.

Editions Mego presents Bosko, landing exactly 30 years after the initial General Magic flights into the fantastic; the legendary first Mego release, a collaboration with Pita whereby all sounds were harnessed from the buzzing, drinking, humming sounds of fridges MEGO 001 General Magic & Pita and a 12” with Elin called Die Mondlandung (The Moon Landing) MEGO 002 which embarked on a minimal techno template so austere and strange it was one of the historic progenitors of austere and wonky rhythms alongside Sakho and other European explorers.

The initial return of the playful and mystical Austrian outfit General Magic came with the 20th year anniversary vinyl reissue of their classic debut Frantz eMEGO 010. A record so audacious and playful it still baffles as much as it entertains. At some point whilst working on this reissue GM’s Ramon Bauer and Andi Pieper were spurred on to rummage around with ideas and tools once more and after more than two decades of inactivity sonic sorcery was conjured once again. Live shows in honour of Peter Rehberg were performed in Vienna and London. Softbop, a limited risograph collaboration with Tina Frank came with the first new recordings as a digital download came out discreetly online. The first full length album following Rechenkönig in 2000 MEGO 032 “Nein Aber Ja” released in 2023 on Finlay Shakespeare’s GOTO Records on CD and cassette. An ongoing series of mix tapes online further highlights their interests encapsulating a new found angle on electronic mayhem. All of these elements retain the wildly eclectic and ecstatic glow that only they can harness and hand out to an unprepared world.

Now, we have General Magic’s second official full length comeback recording, Bosko. The new album is initially notable prior to the needle hitting the wax or the cursor identifying a track due to the artwork. Made by long term collaborator Tina Frank, this is Frank’s first analogue artwork, with a painting of a happy/nervous machine thing hovering in a landscape of no discernible identity. It’s quasi science fiction hovering amongst the potential for fun. Suited to the music? Natürlich.

Bosko sees Bauer and Pieper update and reframe their original investigations with a fresh supply of head scratching, heart racing tunes that hit the inexplicable with a wild mesh of drums, pianos, synthetic voices and all manner of immaterial sonic play. Startling sonics shock the ears on Club Duchamp which sounds like a conversation between synthetic adult ants in an environment still in development. Elfer features vocals supplied by a female-ish voice who, whilst grappling melody, has trouble executing a firm identity. Noorenhalt catapults along a mainframe of syncopation so unwieldy it feels like the voice, which is utterly alien, provides the only comfort. Seite 5 inhabits a fuzzy zone where a synthetic Horn of Jericho type ambience competes with rhythms never quite sure of who they are. Rise of the Ombré raises the spectral dread. Is this Science Fact? Absolutely nothing within Bosko is predictable.

The amount of change in the miasma of existence and the things we touch in order to make things has shifted so exponentially we are at the point where minds are starting to glaze over. All of this makes the return of the always original, always surprising, always fresh and exciting General Magic totally in tune with the artificial intelligent apocalyptic age we currently inhabit. The tools may have changed but the wonderfully warped gaze of Bosko offers a fresh new vision of perplexing funk and robotic punk.

A“This album is about what it means to be human, and its creation is my offering. I attempt to tell a tale of the human experience in the reflection of my own.”

‘In the Andean mythology, condors are believed to be immortal. It is said that once they feel old, without energy, and useless, they climb to the highest peak and let themselves fall to death.’

The Allegorist is a visionary, enigmatic, transmedia, and boundary-pushing artist known for crafting deep, immersive dark sonic tales. Embracing a wide array of influences, weaving together the mysteries, art and spirituality, the art project defies categorisation, resonating with those who seek the unconventional.

From Birth Until Death is an introspective and immersive concept album that reflects on the essence of the human experience. Crafted over six years by The Allegorist (aka Anna Jordan), the album traces the arc of life—from its fragile beginnings to its inevitable end—using sound art to explore existential and philosophical terrain. Inspired by the Andean mythology of the condor – a symbol of immortality – the album blends electronic soundscapes with raw field recordings, evoking a deep sense of connection between the natural world and human existence.

The album’s progression mirrors the stages of life, starting with the birth of new beginnings and culminating in death, with each track offering a unique reflection on the moments in between. From the dynamic energy of Momentum, to the ethereal, illusionary world of Fata Morgana, the tracks guide the listener through emotions, perceptions, and experiences that shape the human condition.

A distinctive feature of From Birth Until Death is its intricate production. The album incorporates field recordings from Grunewald Forest, a distant roar of a jet, barking dogs, blending the sounds of nature – footsteps in the snow, birdsong, ocean waves – with layered synthesisers and electronic beats. The bass and ambient textures are crafted using an array of analog hardware, while all vocals, both lead and backing, are performed and recorded by Jordan. Some of the vocal takes were intentionally left raw, capturing the spontaneous energy of early recordings, while others were re-recorded to balance the album’s organic yet polished feel. Each element is meticulously crafted, revealing its deeper meaning as the album unfolds like a multidimensional, living sculpture.

At its core, From Birth Until Death is a meditation on the full spectrum of life. The album’s title track, From Birth Until Death, encapsulates this journey, reflecting on the passage of time and the unique experience of being human. The final track, Death, offers a melancholic yet beautiful exploration of endings, not as finalities, but as moments in the grand cycle of life. With its combination of evocative sound design and deeply personal themes, From Birth Until Death invites listeners to contemplate their own lives, offering a moving experience of reflection, growth, and transformation.

About From Birth Until Death
Words By Robin Rimbaud (Scanner)

From Birth Until Death is a deeply personal and reflective album and beautifully crafted. A detailed listen reveals that Jordan was in search of a profoundly human and authentic expression. In an era when so much around us seems defined by speed, Anna Jordan, aka The Allegorist, stands apart – aware that skimming the surface of life is neither sufficient nor rewarding. She reminds us of the value of deep, authentic listening.

The track Andean Condor seductively draws us into a smoky, blurred rhythmic soundscape, capturing the essence of the darkest Berlin nightclub, while Birth pulses with an almost shamanic transformation of sound, moving from the organic to the musical. It features a recording of Jordan’s footsteps in the snow in Grunewald Forest, Germany.

At times, the music feels almost sculptural in shape and tone – lifting, pushing, lilting, opening, and closing – where each piece is given room to fully develop. Many of the works blend synthetic sound with the natural, incorporating the human voice alongside environmental recordings: the wild waves of the ocean, a jet flying overhead, and barking dogs.

With From Birth Until Death, Jordan, like an alchemical architect revealing in the process of getting lost and relinquishing control, leaves us with a taut, immersive soundtrack in which to lose ourselves.

About the album ‘From Birth Until Death’
words by The Allegorist

“The album From Birth Until Death did not come easily to me. I started working on it in 2019, and it underwent many alterations over the years. I produced multiple versions of the tracks each year, but the album name, the track titles, and the album cover art stayed the same for 6 years. Not everything I did fit into the album’s final form, but I hope the heavy selection just made it better. I played this piece live in my techno live set between 2019 and 2020, and in the years after, I performed different art, ambient, and vocal versions of it, most notably the one at the church St. Marienkirche in Berlin in 2022. It just wanted to live and didn’t want to be finished. As I aged, this album aged with me. And now I’m ready to let it go.”

Rooted in acoustic instrumentation, their music features intricate melodies and
soulful vocals that resonate deeply with listeners. The band has toured the US and
Europe and contributed music to the Vikings series on Netfix, further cementing their
connection to Norse mythology.
Larvatus marks a return to the band's earlier, more mystical sound, evoking the
haunting qualities of albums like Uthuling Hyl and Nordlige Runaskog. This album,
which began taking shape during the uncertain years of 2020 and 2021, refects the
emotional turbulence of the pandemic. Despite the chaos surrounding its creation,
Larvatus is a demonstration of resilience and its introspective and contemplative
nature offering a sense of refuge amid a world in fux.
Over the past two years, Larvatus has been carefully revisited, refned, and expanded.
The album has taken on new layers of complexity, enriched with the addition of
Kakophonix's stunning cello work, which adds an ethereal depth to the intimate
soundscapes. The fnal mix, done by Greg Chandler at Priory Recording Studios,
brings out the full emotional resonance of the music, ensuring the band's earthy,
organic style is preserved while allowing every instrument and vocal to shine with
clarity.
At its core, Larvatus explores the passage of time, the fragility of existence, and the
quiet power of nature. It invites listeners to refect on their place in the world and fnd
solace in the timeless tradition of folk music. The fusion of Nordic folk melodies and
Americana storytelling creates a rich listening experience, staying true to the band's
signature blend of ancient sounds and modern sensibilities.
With Larvatus, Osi and the Jupiter offers a soundtrack for those seeking comfort in
difcult times, reminding us that even in the darkest moments, music can provide
solace, connection, and a sense of healing. It is a celebration of the enduring power of
music to unite and inspire, inviting listeners on a deeply personal journey into the
heart of both nature and self.

Rooted in acoustic instrumentation, their music features intricate melodies and
soulful vocals that resonate deeply with listeners. The band has toured the US and
Europe and contributed music to the Vikings series on Netfix, further cementing their
connection to Norse mythology.
Larvatus marks a return to the band's earlier, more mystical sound, evoking the
haunting qualities of albums like Uthuling Hyl and Nordlige Runaskog. This album,
which began taking shape during the uncertain years of 2020 and 2021, refects the
emotional turbulence of the pandemic. Despite the chaos surrounding its creation,
Larvatus is a demonstration of resilience and its introspective and contemplative
nature offering a sense of refuge amid a world in fux.
Over the past two years, Larvatus has been carefully revisited, refned, and expanded.
The album has taken on new layers of complexity, enriched with the addition of
Kakophonix's stunning cello work, which adds an ethereal depth to the intimate
soundscapes. The fnal mix, done by Greg Chandler at Priory Recording Studios,
brings out the full emotional resonance of the music, ensuring the band's earthy,
organic style is preserved while allowing every instrument and vocal to shine with
clarity.
At its core, Larvatus explores the passage of time, the fragility of existence, and the
quiet power of nature. It invites listeners to refect on their place in the world and fnd
solace in the timeless tradition of folk music. The fusion of Nordic folk melodies and
Americana storytelling creates a rich listening experience, staying true to the band's
signature blend of ancient sounds and modern sensibilities.
With Larvatus, Osi and the Jupiter offers a soundtrack for those seeking comfort in
difcult times, reminding us that even in the darkest moments, music can provide
solace, connection, and a sense of healing. It is a celebration of the enduring power of
music to unite and inspire, inviting listeners on a deeply personal journey into the
heart of both nature and self.

We are talking Holy Grail territory…

Edwin Starr and JJ Barnes were two of the main stars at Ric-Tic, the legendary 1960s Detroit Soul label that ended up being purchased by Motown to take out the competition.

JJ Barnes REAL HUMDINGER Ric-Tic 45 is a standout gem from the Motor City’s Soul heyday years and an all time Northern Soul classic. Edwin’s Ric-Tic 45s and subsequent gems for Motown made him such a Northern Soul icon that he moved to live in England.

What Anglophile Edwin never revealed is that he actually recorded the first version of REAL HUMDINGER for Ric-Tic. It never got released and its’ very existence was unknown. After painstaking detective work WEST GRAND found about the recording and have now managed to licence it from Universal Music / Motown for its debut worldwide release News of the discovery has created huge interest amongst Soul fans globally, As a bonus the flip side is another “wow find” that had been stuck, also unknown and unloved, in the tape vaults for nearly 60 years. It is a preciously unused alternative take on SCOTT’S ON SWINGERS.

The track is in effect an extended jingle for Detroit back in the day star radio DJ Scott Regan based on Edwin’s smash S.O.S (Stop Her On Sight). The released take came out on a limited edition RIC-Tic giveaway single that now commands a £400 price tag.