quête:the extremes

Following her contribution to this Spring’s Gudu & Friends Vol. 1 compilation, Lady Blacktronika steps out with a full EP for Peggy Gou’s Gudu label.

Whether operating as Lady Blacktronika or her Femanyst alias, Akua Grant has built a deserved reputation as one of house and techno’s most daring and unique artists - one that dates back 25 years now, when she first debuted as a vocalist.

“House and techno” can be a cliched catch-all term, but in Grant’s case, she really has explored the extremes of both sides. Her early Lady Blacktronika work, when she earned the nickname The First Lady of Beatdown, saw her produce and narrate a style of deep house that was both sensitive and transgressive, while as Femanyst, she explores some of techno’s darkest corners, all distorted kicks and serrated edges.

Her EP for Gudu kicks off with some serious intent: ‘Baby I Got It’ chops its vocals rough and raw, pairing them with marching drums and the sort of idiosyncratic synth-work that feels like a Blacktronika signature at this point. ‘Sing the Blues’ and ‘Hold My Hand’ take things smoother, but without ever deferring to type — as ever with Grant’s music, she works with such sleight of hand that it’s easy to skip back three minutes previous and wonder how the hell we got here. Her tracks are just that hypnotic and hallucinatory.

Closing the EP, Octo Octa provides a remix of ‘Hold My Hand’ that extends things to a full 12 minutes (note: slightly shorter on the vinyl due to time constraints), taking us out with crushed percs and held pads over some undeniable drum work.

This EP marks the final release of Gudu’s busiest year to date, with music on the label in 2023 coming from Special Request, Matisa, Mogwaa, Hiver, Matrefakt, DMX Krew, Dukwa, Brain de Palma, Lady Blacktronika, Salamanda and Closet Yi.

Three years on from the desolate beauty of their debut, Quindi Records is proud to present the second album from Dead Bandit. The ghosts of their past endeavours still haunt their guitars, but on Memory Thirteen the duo's delicately dishevelled Southern gothic feels tonally distinct from their prior outing.
Dead Bandit is Ellis Swan and James Schimpl - the former a noted solo singer-songwriter from Chicago with a penchant for eerie, witching hour murder ballads and the latter an accomplished Canadian multi-instrumentalist with a bias towards heartworn, roaming soundscapes. Their instrumental collaboration has an open, lyrical quality which says as much as any spoken line, and on this album they've especially embraced the power of contrast as we're guided between scenes, sometimes within the confines of one track.
'Peel Me An Orange' is especially instructive in this regard, beginning as a blown-out paean to sonic degradation and the acute sense of hopelessness it projects, only to yield to a lilting tape loop of twanging guitar before entirely widening out in an emphatic burst of post-rock optimism.
Post-rock isn't noted for its banal cheeriness as a genre, and Dead Bandit aren't about to lay down feel-good drive-time anthems, but the sense of pulling at extremes of energy and introspection show Swan and Schimpl to be testing the emotional limits of their weatherbeaten sound. The cautiously sentimental mood of 'Blowing Kisses' hints at the hard-won light which can be encountered while pointedly driving into darkness.
Sometimes noise is a subtle device - a looming bed of unease under the forthright pluck of Swan's distinct guitar tone or the cracking round the edges of a beaten up drum machine. On 'Memory Thirteen' the distortion on the bass becomes a central figure in its haggard waltz, while 'Staircase' and 'Perfume' leave the signal wet until the delay feedback becomes the body of the riff. Either way, the sound is never left untouched as Swan and Schimpl grow more comfortable in their exchange, blurring their respective sonic languages as they expand their shared vocabulary to create an album of depth, difference and devoted distortion.

Warehouse find!

While the German producer Martin Matiske averages a new release under his given name every few years, there was a long stretch of time in which sightings of his Blackploid alias were much more rare. After dropping an EP for Frustrated Funk in 2006, fans found further material hard to come by over the next decade or so. However, Matiske has reinvigorated Blackploid in recent times, with the project making a few compilation appearances and dropping a couple of EPs across 2020.

That run now culminates inCosmic Traveler, a four-track affair which marks Matiske's debut appearance on Sheffield's Central Processing Unit. Given the long wait, it's great just to see Blackploid back among the fray once again. But for the project's CPU curtain-raiser to be an EP of such high-quality techno jams? Now that really is spoiling us.

Cosmic Traveler's title nods towards the sort of stargazing aesthetics one finds in classic Detroit techno. However, while there are undoubtedly ties to the Motor City in this music, the record ultimately steers less towards spacious atmospherics and more towards the taut, lean machine-funk of seminal practitioners like Dopplereffekt.

Matiske sets his stall out from the off. Opener 'Electric Engine' begins with a run of stiff-necked 808 kicks before hissing hi-hats, a grizzly bassline and all manner of futuristic sounds enter to warp the tune into hyperspace. Following cut 'Night Drive' repeats the trick of 'Electric Engine' but adds a pleasingly dinky synth lead in order to nudge itself slightly towards bleep-techno territory.

The two cuts on Cosmic Traveler's B-side are pure late-night goodness, a pair of mid-set heaters primed for dark basements. 'Pleasure Activism' delivers on the promise of its title and then some, pushing the Kraftwerk template to extremes by bringing a load of gnarly synth lines into play over a wobbling acidic chug. Finally, EP closer 'The Race' is reminiscent of both the twisted machine-funk of Gerald Donald's Japanese Telecom project and the playful modern evolutions of artists like fellow CPU high-flyer Jensen Interceptor.

The resurgence of Martin Matiske's Blackploid project continues withCosmic Traveller, an EP of timeless electro-funk and techno.

FFO: Dopplereffekt, Japanese Telecom, Jensen Interceptor, Cardopusher

Vladislav Delay presents the fifth and last EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Craig Clouse has devoted the past several decades to exploring a wide range of avant-garde avenues for his brainchild Shit & Shine. The monolithic riffs of raw and powerful psych'n'roll hysteria, the freeform dance miasma, sub-heavy electronica and the blissful stupidity crafted for ecstatic ascension: all perfectly-placed in the idiosyncratic world of Shit & Shine. There's also fertile soil for twisted noises in their lowest form, often obscured by groovier comrades in S&S releases yet vitally important for the substance of Clouse's compositional carcass and OOH-sounds has given him the required space to stretch out his longtime interest in developing loose structures and crackling landscapes to transcend his rhythmic comfort zone.

Making an enthusiastic transgression into noisy tones, "Joy Of Joys" has a friendly way of presenting difficult material. The rough and ready cheapo electronics sparkle in full electrifying mode, welding an ascetic gamut of aural hypnotics with a wormhole of uncompromising loop brut. Clanks, bangs, twangs and creeping, ragged globs of sound bloom on the bones of repetition to focus on the swinging stream of dirty anarchy. Stepping out of any context and genre disciplines, S&S finds new sonic trajectories in "Joy Of Joys" which perfectly sit in-between a wobbly cabal of international sub-underground acts: the idiot-avant strategies of LAFMS, early Mego bad digitalia, no-brow enthusiasm of Wolf Eyes family, micro-DIY ethos of Chocolate Monk and the sheer hellish nonsense of US noise circa '00s.

Clouse was already established as a landscape painter with a series of faux naïf paintings charmingly accompanying his releases. With his heart full of passion for abstract minimalism, he continued these narrative forms but was always in search of the confidence to paint non-figurative art. The first step into the chaotic abyss is coming from his sonic side by abandoning the beat and riff layers of his previous works to complete nakedness and reductionist courage. At once Clouse makes an evolutionary lurch into extremes as well as taking us back to basic forms in "Joy Of Joys". He creates an entire new parallel world to Shit & Shine with his maverick imagination presenting us with one of the most mutant releases to bear his name. Arthur Kuzmin

An F-bomb saturated hip-hop call & response club cut...from Sun Ra?! While the most renown track in this omniversal opus is the atomic expletive-filled repartee 'Nuclear War,' there is so much more to this dark mysterious journey through the mind of Sun Ra. The sprawling, suite-like 20-minute title track sustains a lyrical edge in spite of an open framework and textures, which encourage sonorities to surface and emerge from the band as if there was no human intention behind them. In opposition to 'Nuclear War,' Ra's organ playing here was built less on bombast and sonic terror than it is on whispers, stutters, shivers, and swells. Fireside Chat offers a wide stylistic array, as was the artist's intent, reflecting his eclectic, seemingly irreconcilable approach to compositional extremes. With Sun Ra you get everything... except predictability. First ever reissue of this iconic album!

A Fireside Chat With Lucifer by Sun Ra, released 2 February 2024, includes the following tracks: "Makeup" and more.

This version of A Fireside Chat With Lucifer comes as a 1xLP.

The vinyl is pressed as a yellow disc.

The most political music is often the most explicit, battering its audience with its beliefs. But that isn't always the case; sometimes it embeds its ideas in subtler, more successful ways. Take The Hotelier (previously The Hotel Year), whose second full-length Home, Like Noplace Is There is comprised of what can only be described as anthemic, cathartic rock songs, sent occasionally to delicate and destructive extremes. Singer Christian Holden pushes his clean voice until it crumbles, on "The Scope of All of This Rebuilding" against a strutting pace, and on the furious "Life in Drag", but most powerfully during the chorus of "Your Deep Rest" where his words are heart-wrenching and haunting. As drummer Sam Frederick stamps out an enormous beat and chords - strummed by Cody Millet, Scott Ayotte, and Chris Hoffman - clamor around him, Holden sings, "I called in sick from your funeral / tradition of closure made it feel impossible... / I should have never kept my word to you / Not a cry not a sound / Might've learned how to swim but never taught how to drown /You said remember me for me, I need to set my spirit free." By making political statements through personal explorations, The Hotelier has not only make a uniquely political record, but also a subtler, more successful one.

Vladislav Delay's complete "Hide Behind The Silence" series. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Hide Behind the Silence”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

Exploration of inaction. Of many kinds. In arts and in personal life, or at bigger and more serious levels. Questioning myself as a human being as well as an artist. Acknowledging the growing activism all around, and the very clear need for it, and how it reflects my own inaction.
Musically speaking, after Rakka, Isoviha and Speed Demon, I finally found some relief, but more importantly lost the need to go musically ever more outward and intensive. I felt quite strongly certain periods/moods from the past and they made me revisit some musical ideas or states of mind I was exploring early on.
It’s about live moments being captured, not much premeditation or editing. More intuitive and raw, even though the end result (to me) feels and sounds quite introspective and calm. It’s not very ambitious. Momentary and reflective.

2) Your music doesn’t sound very silent. Does it come from somewhere behind the silence?

Oh, this time to me it sounds quite quiet and playing with space if not silence. I don’t know what’s actually behind silence, but I think silence is the source of everything. We just don’t understand it yet.

3) What kind of thoughts or experiences gave inspiration to this series?

Writing this in Nov ’22, it’s not a stretch to say the world has been really unwell. Sometimes, like Mika Vainio put it, the world eats you up. I feel a bit like that. And I try to hide in my studio and stay away from it all, but it’s getting harder by the day. I’ve been questioning myself and thinking if what us artists are doing is worth anything, and whether it’s just a selfish thing I’ve been doing for the past 25 years, running away from everything. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.

4) Is it easy for you to be in silence, or around silence?

Absolutely. I not only hide behind silence but I also love silence. It’s only since I started going back to nature as a grown-up person that I sensed and was enveloped by silence, true silence. I have begun to appreciate it a lot. I think all the people should spend more time in silence.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork by Marc Hohmann, photography by Shinnosuke Yoshimori.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Repress of Hey Colossus' twelfth studio album from 2019 on a limited coloured edition to mark the bands 20th anniversary. This edition is on transparent lime w/ marbles smoke effect and limited to 200 copies. Genre: Alternative / Noise Rock Hey Colossus are one of Europe's great live bands. Since 2003 the 6-piece has been driving around the continent with their "pirate ship" backline of broken amps and triple-guitar drang, elevating audiences in every type of venue imaginable; a doctor's waiting room in Salford, an industrial unit in Liege and a vast field next to a river in Portugal. Four Bibles is their twelfth studio album and the first to be released by London label Alter. Recorded by Ben Turner at Space Wolf Studios in Somerset, it's their most direct album yet and follows a well-documented trajectory of evolution that began (in the truest sense) with 2011's RRR for Riot Season and continued across three albums for Rocket Recordings. Lead vocalist Paul Sykes sounds more in focus than before, dialling down the effects and using reverb / delay to carry his lyrics rather than smother. The band has also fine-tuned to leave some room for extra depth. Piano, electronics and violin (by Daniel O'Sullivan of This is not This Heat / Grumbling Fur) all find a way in amongst a familiar mesh of interlacing guitars, wrapped round a taut rhythm section. Like every other Hey Colossus record before, the line-up has altered and the sounds reflect this. From the weight of "Memory Gore", to the subtlety and swag of "It's a Low", via the sonic extremes of "Palm Hex/Arndale Chins" this is exactly as the band are live; raging & rail-roading but somehow in control. Grooves for those who want to dance or for those who want to hug a wall and nod...bleak dystopian imagery submerged in relentless rhythms and low-end rattle. The songs breath life and soul - Hey Colossus have never sounded fresher or more on point.

The documentary series GAÏALAND (Arte) tells the true story of a community of environmental idealists whose dream of saving the planet took them to extremes, from the light of utopia to the darkness of control. Yuksek's original music reflects these utopias and this disenchantment, in the spirit of his album released on Lumière Noire (Destiino) this soundtrack with its soft psychedelic electronic sound features songs taken from VHS recordings made by members of the community.

Their echelon was stark and meaningful. Within the stretch of 3 albums as well
as dense and triumphant live shows across the globe, they have not only spiked
the map of extreme metal music, but their unrelenting touring schedule an
unbridled will to push forward into new horizons has also earned them a
reception in all the extremes imaginable, be it worship or spite.
5 sonic vessels form the nucleus of 'Crepuscule Natura', and within its 41
minutes, the record easily creates a sonic and aesthetic bridge between the
band's debut, 'Devoid of Light' (2016), and their sophomore effort 'Cult of a Dying
Sun' (2018), only to forge onward upon the relentless path set forth with
'Djinn' (2020). Here, a more refined and muscular, yet no less melodic stronghold
awaits. On 'Crepuscule Natura', UADA provides all their memorable hooks,
tasteful leads, and riding blasts in their distinct style, balancing their epic surging
melodies with powerful spurts of aggression. Just like the band's smoke-heavy
shows, the momentum and emphasis of their craft always stays grandiose,
mythical, and triumphant - all the while making sure to birth a couple of new fan
favorites and soon-to-be staple live songs.
'Crepuscule Natura', once again graced by the artwork of legendary Kris Verwimp
and photography by Peter Beste, shows UADA on fire to unleash the marrow of
black heavy metal

Their echelon was stark and meaningful. Within the stretch of 3 albums as well
as dense and triumphant live shows across the globe, they have not only spiked
the map of extreme metal music, but their unrelenting touring schedule an
unbridled will to push forward into new horizons has also earned them a
reception in all the extremes imaginable, be it worship or spite.
5 sonic vessels form the nucleus of 'Crepuscule Natura', and within its 41
minutes, the record easily creates a sonic and aesthetic bridge between the
band's debut, 'Devoid of Light' (2016), and their sophomore effort 'Cult of a Dying
Sun' (2018), only to forge onward upon the relentless path set forth with
'Djinn' (2020). Here, a more refined and muscular, yet no less melodic stronghold
awaits. On 'Crepuscule Natura', UADA provides all their memorable hooks,
tasteful leads, and riding blasts in their distinct style, balancing their epic surging
melodies with powerful spurts of aggression. Just like the band's smoke-heavy
shows, the momentum and emphasis of their craft always stays grandiose,
mythical, and triumphant - all the while making sure to birth a couple of new fan
favorites and soon-to-be staple live songs.
'Crepuscule Natura', once again graced by the artwork of legendary Kris Verwimp
and photography by Peter Beste, shows UADA on fire to unleash the marrow of
black heavy metal

First time on vinyl!
Newly remastered. LP housed in a gatefold jacket.
Featuring Herbie Hancock, Martha Reeves, Alphonse Mouzon, Chuck Rainey, Patryce “Choc’let” Banks, Carlos Morales, and members of The Pointer Sisters.

In the 1970s, Betty Davis defied genre and gender by pushing her voice to extremes and embracing the erotic. She articulated a kind of pre-punk, funk-blues fusion that had yet to be normalized in mainstream music – a style that few musicians have come close to replicating. As one of the first Black women to write, arrange, and produce her own albums, Betty was a visionary who disregarded industry boundaries and constraints. Raw, unapologetic and in full control, Betty paved the way for generations of future artists who said “funk you” to the music industry and social norms.

In 1979, when Davis entered an L.A. studio to record her fifth and final album, she was reeling from a series of setbacks. Three years earlier, after recording her fourth album, Is It Love Or Desire, Davis was dropped from her label and the LP was subsequently shelved. In 1978, her beloved band Funk House went their separate ways. Looking for a fresh start, Davis relocated to Hollywood to focus on songwriting. Before long, British manager Simon Lait (Toni Basil), offered to fund her next project.

With renewed vigor, Davis reunited with former Funk House guitarist Carlos Morales and brought together industry veterans like fusion drummer Alphonse Mouzon and session bassist Chuck Rainey. Old friends Anita and Bonnie Pointer (The Pointer Sisters) and Patryce “Choc’let” Banks joined Davis on vocals, as did Motown legend Martha Reeves. The resulting album, Crashin’ From Passion, was her most musically diverse, blending elements of reggae and calypso (“I’ve Danced Before”), jazz (“Hangin’ Out in Hollywood,” “Tell Me a Few Things”), dark synth-pop (“She’s a Woman”), and even disco (“All I Do Is Think of You”). Equally exploratory are Davis’ vocals, as she trades in her signature sass and snarls for more nuanced stylings.

Among the album’s few funk tracks is “Quintessence of Hip,” in which Davis hails musicians like Bob Dylan, Billie Holiday, Stevie Wonder, and John Coltrane, while deftly integrating elements of their work. The song also offers a moment of stark vulnerability, as she sings, “Isn’t rich? Isn’t it queer? Losing my timing so late in my career.” It would prove to be a prophetic line in the months to follow.

The mixing process was mired by artistic differences and then cut short, amid the death of Davis’ beloved father. Bereft and exasperated, Davis returned home for the funeral, setting into motion her retirement from the music industry. Crashin’ From Passion, meanwhile, would be shelved for 15 years and licensed for a CD-only release, without Davis’ consent, in the ‘90s. This 2023 edition of the album, made with Davis’ full approval and cooperation, marks its first official release and first time ever on vinyl. The package was designed by GRAMMY®-winning artist, Masaki Koike, while the album cover features an incredible shot of Betty captured in London in the mid-1970s by renowned photographer Kate Simon.

Crashin’ From Passion was remastered by Dave Cooley at Elysian Masters and pressed on vinyl at Record Technology, Inc. (RTI). The accompanying booklet includes a treasure trove of rare photos from the era, plus lyrics, and new liner notes by writer, ethnomusicologist, and Betty’s close friend, Danielle Maggio, who integrates interviews that she conducted with Davis, marking her last ever interviews.

In the wake of Young Marble Giants’ breakup, two acts were created, with Stuart Moxham taking minimalist, geometric play to extremes while Alison Statton added more warmth and feeling to a similar template, creating something stunning yet based in popular forms. Those two opposing means of forging paths away from one of music’s most astonishingly unique debuts both included Stuart’s brother, Phil. More recently, both have reversed course, with Stuart proving himself a master of classic pop form, with Alison’s work again approaching a modern abstraction of quiet folk music - experimental but accessible. But that’s another tale. With no template to guide him, Stuart’s new music - as The Gist - was regarded as wildly uneven. Stuart admits that he didn’t know which way to go, so perversely, he decided to take all directions at once. The Gist’s original discography stood at a scant 18 songs, yet only seven featured Stuart’s own voice, often in heavily processed and oddly-mixed form. The Gist’s label, Rough Trade, dropped the band. Starting with a critical re-evaluation of The Gist’s sole album Embrace The Herd in an issue of Mojo, the tide begin to turn. Ambience in pop has long enjoyed a cult following, and the nonlinear structure of many of The Gist’s songs have parallels with artists such as Aphex Twin and Seefeel. One song from the era was covered by Etienne Daho in France - sounding rather advanced for French pop at the time, it ended up selling over a million copies and was later covered by Lush and sampled by DJ Koze with Lambchop singer / songwriter Kurt Wagner. Recent discovery of a trove of unreleased recordings show that Stuart had held back an array of excellent material, in demo and completed forms, often in different arrangements. Interior Windows adds 13 new performances or alternate versions to the band’s catalogue, and does the service of making both sides of The Gist’s first 7” 45 (recorded at the same session as the final YMG single) available again, along with their contribution to the NME / Rough Trade cassette compilation C81, and in keeping with The Gist’s tradition, at least one song on which Stuart does not appear

Prisoners Of Love And Hate' is an offering to community, to desires that imprison and liberate, to people in all their divinity and ugliness. Apostille - aka Night School Records’ captain Michael Kasparis - presents is third album with a bang, a bursting ball of NRG, empathy and bristling living.
Like its predecessor 'Choose Life', 'Prisoners…' was recorded at Full Ashram Celestial Garden in Glasgow with Lewis Cook (Free Love) through 2022. A nine song treatise on pop music, trauma, ecstasy and the mundanities between the extremes, Kasparis takes on classic 80s synth pop, 90s house music, 00s trance, wistful balladry, 70s power pop. The thread that runs through the album is a boundless energy, an openness to the moment, to living
the pains and joys equally, open armed.

This is a place of no judgement, of possibility, challenge and comfort. The nine songs on 'Prisoners…' can be read as separate ruminations on the feelings and desires that imprison our experience. Through it all the narrator struggles against them, transported and fooled by love and longing, peering through the bars of anguish, flailing in a cell of emotions. 'Saturday Night, Still Breathing' breaks the album open with an invigorating scream and pounds into the night with a nod to Whigfield, Kasparis’ punk roots and house music. Over a thumping 909 kick and bassline, Kasparis pens a love letter to being with people, the collective energy of hearts in a room, thrumming together, making it through together. Written as private ritual magic, manifesting community during a time of isolation, it’s as if the party is the most important thing in the world. 'Rely On Me' imagines 80s Mute synth pop, Erasure fronted by Bruce Springsteen, romance doomed and forever perfect in the mind. 'Spit Pit' completes the opening triptych of fast paced rollercoasters, an ode to childhood forged out of change and discomfort told with a bold, epic production by Lewis Cook, AFX breakbeats, 160BPM kicks and a commanding vocal performance.

On 'People Make This City', Kasparis eases off the gas, lets the mist blowing in from the Clyde River blow over his version of Glasgow. A wistful ballad about small town gossip and coming through anger to leaving it all behind, it provides some shadow to the bright light of the vibrancy of the album. 'Natural Angel' owes much to 70s and 80s power pop, guitar melodrama, Thin Lizzy and Rick Springfield through the prism of co-dependence in relationships. It’s a theme that’s picked up in slow burner 'Nothing But Perfect', a hazy synth soul-inflected song about building your own mythology, constructing a dream to hide in, to hold on to. The most surprising track of the album, 'Summer of ’03' re-imagines the trance music of early noughties Europe into a lament for an eternal summer or as a fan once put it, “Meat Loaf with a donk on it.” A recognition that all ecstasy has tragedy laced within it, it’s a theme that is sewn throughout the LP and continued on the final song 'Feel Good (You Can Make Me)'. Referencing Shalamar’s 1982 mega hit by way of N-Trance’s piano riffs, the epic closer is riddled with heartbreak, vulnerability and power. It’s a testament to the new confidence in Kasparis’s songwriting, sure, but also to the enduring power of people to come together in mutual dependence and love. If ecstasy is always laced with tragedy, then 'Prisoners of Love and Hate' can always reach out between the bars to meet in the middle, the eternal now.

Today we announce The Vinyl Collection, Vol. 2, an 11-LP boxset to follow 2021’s Vol. 1, which includes the remainder of Billy’s catalogue: Glass Houses, The Nylon Curtain, An Innocent Man, The Bridge, Storm Front, River of Dreams. It exclusively features Fantasies & Delusions & Live from Long Island on vinyl for the first time. The boxset includes a 60+ page booklet that highlights the era through photos, quotes, and an essay by Rob Tannenbaum. All albums remastered from original sources at Sterling Sound.

"The Vinyl Collection, Volume 2" vereint Billy Joels monumental erfolgreiche Alben aus dem späteren Teil seiner Karriere: "Glass Houses" (1980), "The Nylon Curtain" (1982), "An Innocent Man" (1983), "The Bridge" (1986) und "Storm Front" (1989), "River of Dreams" (1993). Außerdem gibt es 2 Titel zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl: die Doppel-LP "Fantasies & Delusions" und die 3er-LP "Live from Long Island" aus dem Jahr 1982. Alle Songs stammen von den Original-Album-Mastern, Zudem ist ein über 60-seitiges Booklet mit Billys persönlichen Anmerkungen und einem Essay von Rob Tannenbaum enthalten

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Vladislav Delay presents the fourth EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.

Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Hide Behind the Silence”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

Exploration of inaction. Of many kinds. In arts and in personal life, or at bigger and more serious levels. Questioning myself as a human being as well as an artist. Acknowledging the growing activism all around, and the very clear need for it, and how it reflects my own inaction.
Musically speaking, after Rakka, Isoviha and Speed Demon, I finally found some relief, but more importantly lost the need to go musically ever more outward and intensive. I felt quite strongly certain periods/moods from the past and they made me revisit some musical ideas or states of mind I was exploring early on.
It’s about live moments being captured, not much premeditation or editing. More intuitive and raw, even though the end result (to me) feels and sounds quite introspective and calm. It’s not very ambitious. Momentary and reflective.

2) Your music doesn’t sound very silent. Does it come from somewhere behind the silence?

Oh, this time to me it sounds quite quiet and playing with space if not silence. I don’t know what’s actually behind silence, but I think silence is the source of everything. We just don’t understand it yet.

3) What kind of thoughts or experiences gave inspiration to this series?

Writing this in Nov ’22, it’s not a stretch to say the world has been really unwell. Sometimes, like Mika Vainio put it, the world eats you up. I feel a bit like that. And I try to hide in my studio and stay away from it all, but it’s getting harder by the day. I’ve been questioning myself and thinking if what us artists are doing is worth anything, and whether it’s just a selfish thing I’ve been doing for the past 25 years, running away from everything. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.

4) Is it easy for you to be in silence, or around silence?

Absolutely. I not only hide behind silence but I also love silence. It’s only since I started going back to nature as a grown-up person that I sensed and was enveloped by silence, true silence. I have begun to appreciate it a lot. I think all the people should spend more time in silence.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork by Marc Hohmann, photography by Shinnosuke Yoshimori.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

2023 Repress

"Put simply, 'Tired Sounds Of...' is one of the most unremittingly beautiful albums I've ever heard." Drowned In Sound

"Unspeakably beautiful." AllMusic

"One of the most beautiful recordings we have ever heard." Aquarius Records

"A fantastic masterpiece, missing this would be foolish." Touching Extremes

"Their relentless commitment to subtlety sets them apart, as does their masterful hand with tone... dissonance is doled out in small portions, perfectly coloring the sculpted elds of sound." Pitchfork
"When all else fails and you need to shut the rest of the world out, this is a guaranteed mute button." Self- Titled

















I f1. A Lovesong For Cubs Pt. 1

Dead Times is Lee Buford (The Body, Sightless Pit, Manslaughter 777) and Steven Vallot (Muslin). The duo originally began working together in 2008 while living together in Providence DIY space The Sickle, and releasing the early records from The Body and The Assembly of Light Choir on their short-lived Aum War label. They quickly achieved cult status with just two limited releases. Those releases have become highly coveted rarities for The Body fans and those familiar with the world of Providence, Rhode Island"s legendary DIY scene, which gave rise to artists like Lightning Bolt and Black Dice. Emerging over a decade later, Dead Times connects the threads of the untethered extremes of their origins to the mastery of production, composition, and structure each member has cultivated in their time apart. On their debut self-titled full-length, Dead Times present a kind of mesmeric dread, a world of desperate beauty wrapped in sonic venom. Buford and Vallot each bring wells of experience and new skill to Dead Times since their days living together in dilapidated warehouses. The duo"s shared history remains an essential element to their chemistry, but each has sharpened their craft to harness that raw creativity into music that is fearless, poignant and undeniably unique. A band"s band, but not for long. Dead Times, the duo"s first album, is staggering in its ambitions and exquisite in its execution. Lee Buford is known for his prolific work in acts including The Body, Sightless Pit, Everyone Asked About You, and more, alongside numerous collaborations with the likes of Full Of Hell, BIG|BRAVE, Thou, OAA, and Siege Engine. Steven Vallot is known for his collaborative work both musically, and artistically, with artists such as Krieg, The Body, Whitehorse, and Drew McDowall.

After an incredible journey spanning 8 years and 40 releases, Marked is proud to unveil a monumental milestone - their first EP released on the timeless medium of vinyl. There is no better way to do this than with upcoming superstar Amazingblaze. His Stargaze EP is a journey of pure power and brightness -a dopamine rush- waiting to find its place of honor within your cherished wooden vinyl cabinet.

Starting with Treasures, this is one of those musical gems that keeps on overflowing with life with an almost mystical quality. A sound and melody that have emotions run deep, while the heart of the track keeps your pulse racing at its beats per minute.

The answer to a surefire way to light up the dancefloor is Quantumness. The lead synth and perc rhythm make a deadly and irresistible groove. Its notes soar and dive, creating a rhythmic anchor that holds everything together.

In Geerson's remix of Quantumness, most of the original's iconic lead synth is kept intact. In this version, the kicks fire in rhythmic drum salvos. The sonic landscape traverses peaks and valleys, sending you to both extremes in orbit.

Powerhouse Tham brings in the Club Kid remix of Pittsburgh by sending new life into one of the layers of the lead synth. Tham's signature sound is applied to turn it into a full-fledged hammer track: the sound is ruthless, the groove contagious.

Unrelenting and direct, Bristol's Hypothetics have a sound that pushes the four to the extremes. Produced by Mercury nominated Andy Savours (Black Country, New Road, my bloody valentine), this concept EP sees the quartet escape the stereotypes of young rock musicians today and instead they introduce listeners to a world of therapeutic escapism and cinematic immersion.
Talking about the EP, the band elaborate, "by fixating on sounds and images from the seventies American cinema era, it gave us an angle we weren't getting from the reality of rural Gloucestershire. We try to limit the effect the industry has on us, as it's easy to start doing things for the wrong reasons and become disillusioned".

Black Truffle is pleased to welcome free jazz legend Joe McPhee back to the fold with Oblique Strategies, a wild trio recorded in Antwerp in 2018 in the company of Mette Rasmussen’s fire-breathing alto saxophone and Dennis Tyfus’s post-Fluxus antics on tape, voice, and percussion. Rasmussen and Tyfus have previously recorded together as Bazuinschal, and some similar strategies are on display here: mysterious metallic scrapes, extended tones in which voice and sax become indistinguishable, comic explosions of varispeed tape. With McPhee on board, however, proceedings are more sumptuous, with the two horns moving fluidly from expeditions into the extremes of their instruments’ registers to pointillistic note-splatter and Ayler-esque folk melodies; we even get to bask in some of the slow-motion free blues that McPhee has now been playing for half a century. McPhee is heard primarily on tenor, Rasmussen mainly on alto, but with Rasmussen doubling on sundry objects, and the whole trio contributing vocals, certainty about who is doing what becomes nigh impossible.

The recording and production add to this hazy unclarity. Where much contemporary improvised music aims at dryly clinical hi-fi, the lively reverberant space of Oblique Strategies calls to mind the less-than-pristine sonics of classic free jazz artefacts like John Tchicai’s Afrodisiaca or McPhee’s own Underground Railroad. A further dimension of oblique unpredictability is added by subtle changes in the sense of space: at times merely a reverb tail glimpsed between phrases, at other points the whole mix seems to be momentarily swallowed up in slap-back, blurring the lines between acoustic instruments and the decayed fidelity of Tyfus’ tape playback. Spread across four pieces ranging from four to nineteen minutes in length, Oblique Strategies moves with anarchic swagger from explosions of clattering cymbals and bellowing horns to near-silent episodes of mysterious rumble and clunk. ‘Death or Dinner?’ opens the record with a lovely duet of climbing melodic patterns shared between the two saxophones, played with a buzzing oboe-like tone. A long, wavering note sung by Tyfus cues the first of countless changes of direction, eventually leading to a crescendo of watery splutters and duelling saxes. At points Tyfus’ keening resemble the signature moves of his friend and collaborator, Ghédelia Tazartès; at others, his tape-sped huffs and puffs possess a rawness reminiscent of Henri Chopin or Gil Wolman. The dialogue between wailing saxophones and vocal cries, punctuated by percussive thuds and crashes, can at times feel less like a musical performance and more like the calls of some mysterious forest creatures, possessing a primordial energy that might remind some listeners of the outdoor antics of Brötzmann and Bennink’s Schwarzwaldfahrt.

Oblique Strategies can also be delicate at times, as on the beautiful third piece, ‘Destilled Edible’, dominated by a slow, microtonal melody played with a breathy tone resembling a shakuhachi. The closing side-long ‘Light My Fire’ ranges across classic improv call and response, skittering trumpet blurts, inept cymbal clatter, mock-operatic vocals, and crude tape manoeuvres. Momentarily pausing at the ten-minute mark for an interlude of ghostly room sound and crackling texture, its closing moments unfurl a glorious dual saxophone finale, the almost epic tone subtly undermined by Tyfus quietly tapping out swing rhythms. Arriving in a striking sleeve adorned with Tyfus’ drawings, Oblique Strategies is an invigoratingly free-spirited blast of improvisation.
Downloads

What’s Mu about? Mu is about everything: Songs about heartbreak and parting share the album with songs marvelling at the scale of the universe. Mu is a concept from Zen and Chan Buddhism that means: “nothingness” and also, “pure awareness.” The awareness at the source of all things. In Hannah’s words: “There is so much life in every moment. Endless patterns, algorithms and instances repeating and changing and adapting. Spiralling outwards from the source. What source? The source.” In search of the source, Hannah has composed and arranged an undefinable, cinematic album that leads the listener on a winding path through her imagination. Sonically as well as thematically, Mu is an album of extremes and lofty ambitions. Fragile and delicate vocal and violin textures contrast with crunchy noisescapes and brooding synthesizers. Hannah’s commanding voice shares the spotlight with a string section and is backed by spacious production featuring many acoustic instruments. Sonically, producer Nick Herrera has brought a reassuring chunkiness to this unplugged palette, in particular the head nodding drums that anchor Hannah’s celestial musings. Like a film soundtrack or a symphony Mu is best listened to and understood as a whole - it circles back to themes and refrains and re-examines them. Sometimes a song is a song, sometimes it’s a soundscape dreaming of a song. “When making this album, I had a specific concept for how I wanted the music to sound. I don’t mean in terms of genre… it was more of a visceral, sensory concept which I knew I could only realise by allowing myself to experiment and create simultaneously, believing in my rough ideas enough to grow them, to weave them into stories. I began allowing myself to enter and remain in a very heightened state of awareness, which is a state I have continued to pursue and learnt to enjoy ever since. I let my mind dissolve into blackness each day. From there the most wonderful colours can appear. I have decided to call the album “Mu” to signify the empty chasm I allowed to hold within me whilst these songs were born.”

Vladislav Delay presents the third EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Foyer Red’s debut LP, Yarn the Hours Away, plays out as a collection of short stories, each with its environment and protagonist(s) meticulously crafted by the band, with lead singer, vocalist, and clarinetist Elana Riordan at the helm. Foyer Red’s debut EP, Zigzag Wombat, showcased their playfully chaotic arrangements, which bridge art-punk, math rock, and sweetly sung indie with a dash of the zoomies.

The band synthesizes their homespun take on magical realist indie rock that was centered on their EP with their varied musical influences; taking cues from the otherworldly melodies of Cate Le Bon, Yucky Duster’s jangle-filled crayon rock, and the organized chaos of Deerhoof’s iconic polyrhythms. The songs that makeup Yarn the Hours Away are fantastical, surrealist stories that hinge on contemporary, post-digital life.

The lead single “Etc” captures this dynamic perfectly. Anchored by Eric Jaso’s hypnotizing bass line, the song unfolds with off-kilter call-and-response vocals between Riordan and Kristina Moore, their stilted deliveries bouncing around the mix. The track is searching but discontent with the algorithmic and claustrophobic realities of daily life: singer/guitarist Mitch Myers throws the song for a loop singing, “gathering information / will set you free once you’ve reached / 37 percent / of the database.” While there’s paranoia and cynicism undergirding the lyrics, the song itself is a thrilling and playful listen.

The songs on Yarn the Hours Away are uniformly exciting and compelling; each track feels distinct and sometimes even in direct conflict. The peppy opener “Plumbers Unite!” belies its themes of gamification of our daily lives and delves into the science fiction and fantasy songwriting of Foyer Red’s debut EP. Centered around a relentless rhythm section, their dueling vocals never abate; Moore and Riordan’s honey-sweet but getting more frantic as the song progresses, while Myers’ erratic talk-singing culminates in one final frustrated scream. Juxtapose this with “Gorgeous,” a lovely song about Riordan and drummer Marco Ocampo’s relationship that sees the band slowing their pace into a blissful sway. Riordan coos and sighs over the track while recalling “Marco-isms”; botched colloquialisms that Ocampo uses.

“Gorgeous” shares little in common with “Pocket,” a loose lamentation on late capitalism that touches on time travel and human evolution. Moore and Riordan’s exclamations are chopped up and used as rhythm instruments, layered over the intricately frenetic guitars of Myers and Moore. Foyer Red thrives on these extremes and contradictions. Where their first release was self-recorded, this LP found them in Figure8 Studios with a deadline. “It was really liberating,” says Jaso. “We're all just kind of throwing in our own voices and challenging each other to make the songs better.”

Yarn the Hours Away comes from a lyric on the closer “Toy Wagon.” The song that first marked the time Moore and the rest of the band worked together, a promising spark of a thrilling collaboration to come. “It harkens back to all of us coming together and spending the hours together in music,” says Moore. “There are few moments where you get to relax and exhale,” adds Riordan. “It's what happened when the five of us got together and started writing. We just wrote all of these out there songs and we didn't see a reason to dial that back. Its natural form is in its chaos and layered craziness.”

First released in January 2017, this popular soundtrack has been out of stock for several years and is now back by popular demand on a new colour.
Winner of the Grand Jury Prize at the 2016 Venice International Film Festival, Nocturnal Animals, Tom Ford’s haunting romantic thriller has been hailed as “a tour de force” (The Independent). Nocturnal Animals marks the second film from writer/director Ford, and his second collaboration with composer Korzeniowski. Their first collaboration, A Single Man, earned Korzeniowski his first Golden Globe nomination for Best Score. The score was a breakout for the composer, earning him the prestigious Discovery Award at the 2010 Gent Film Festival’s World Soundtrack Awards.
Korzeniowski has described his score to Nocturnal Animals as “embracing two extremes, but switching their traditional genre characterization. The crime plot is scored as an intimate, personal story, while the psychological drama is treated as a thriller. The cold and detached intertwines with poignant and excruciating, the simple and intimate becomes grand and bold."

Lost in the depths of space, AAKAARA takes listeners on a journey to the outer limits of the sonic universe with their latest album “Obsidian Promises”. Blending influences from punk and metal, EBM, architectural design and certain celestial objects, AAKAARA offers a fresh take on industrial techno.

This body of work is dark and brooding, full of haunting and thought-provoking soundscapes. Metallic and cold one moment, blisteringly hot the next. Pounding drums create searing rhythms, acid-drenched synths weave abrasive textures, and noise permeates the stereo field. Inspired by the mysterious and alluring world of black holes, the producer explores the beauty of extremes through sound. “If you know my work or me,” AAKAARA says, “it’s no secret that I have a spiritual connection to, and an obsession with, black holes.

It’s not about doom and gloom, but about beautiful extremes: infinite calmness, ultra-high energy, being deeply centered, and inevitable attraction.” “I try to sonify this in a naive sense. It isn’t an attempt at science; it’s a way for me to practice a makeshift spirituality about these entities through craft and functional dance music for people.”

Spirituality and stellar inspiration were essential to AAKAARA’s life during the three years they spent between Los Angeles and London, while writing this album. It provided a sonic home during a period of transition, when they didn’t feel at home and didn’t have access to a studio.

Everything was made “in the box” using only Ableton 10. After collecting guitar pedals and amplifiers for years, AAKAARA has shifted away from a hardware-focused mindset and is now more invested in the conceptual framework, narrative, and cultural implications of their work. Visuals also play an integral role in this maximalist experience.

The outer sleeve (front and back cover) conveys the “big ideas” visually, while the companion poster includes custom typography, detailed drawings, symbol design, and poetry. The poetry provides a textual counterpoint to the lyric-less music, written in parallel but later stages of the production process. The visual identity of this work is inseparable from the music, describing it in an integral way. It’s the other side of the coin, not simply an accompaniment. With its spiritual connection to the infinite and mysterious, “Obsidian Promises” harnesses the beauty and intensity of celestial entities as musical inspiration, transforming the science into mystical, narrative-driven sonic experience. Get ready for a ride through the unknown as AAKAARA’s latest offering takes you on a high-energy trip through the black hole’s playground.

The title of Ital Tek's seventh album "Timeproof" reflects what Alan Myson has observed and learned whilst making the album. Firstly, how distorted the perception of time is in the creative headspace - being in the studio creates a timeless environment, one's mind starts wandering and the perception of time is altered. Secondly, the bizarre effect of the last few years of lockdown have somehow infected the title, temporarily contracting our collective notion of time. And thirdly, Alan has learnt how spending time away from the studio can be as effective as being there, giving one space to process. Appreciating the power of being out in nature, putting other things into perspective, refreshing one's ability to approach work with both patience and creativity. Overall "Timeproof" feels more introspective than Alan's last album "Outland". Perhaps because of the time in which it was created or this new relationship to the creative process. The sounds and textures of the record hint at brutality and menace whilst also pulsing and evolving softly with a more refined interior life. It's expansive and elegant, neatly balanced between light and dark, more mossy and dreamy than the extremes of "Outland".

When making the album, Alan spent about a year or so working quickly and intuitively, churning out ideas, sketches and sound experiments without any attempt to finish or perfect anything. "I let it settle until I was ready to return to this body of raw material with fresh ears some months later, sometimes barely remembering what or how I’d done much of it." Over the course of another year he dived into the details, rendering all of this rough material and sound into something with form. Alan also visited older material and ideas, trying out, reworking and sampling, building it into this new body. The finished album feels open, with a gentle intuition that feels as if it's guiding you through.

Mammal Hands announce spell-binding new album 'Gift from the Trees', their fifth studio album, pointing to subtle shifts and exciting new departures for the unique trio
"We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance..."
Mammal Hands fifth album 'Gift from the Trees' offers a fresh perspective on the unique trio's singular music. The first to be recorded in a residential studio, the band enjoyed the opportunity to go late into the night searching for a deeper, more organic experience, closer to both their writing process but also their trance-like live performances. While some of the music was pre-composed and had even been performed live, the band also enjoyed the opportunity to improvise ideas in the studio. Drummer Jesse Barrett explains:
We wanted to have a more immersive experience that felt closer to our writing process. One thing that was really important to us was feeling free to jam out ideas as they came to us. We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance and just follow that thread where it wants to go. Sometimes it's something as simple as a rhythmic, textural flow, like in Sleeping Bear.
There was also a conscious decision to move away from the sound and ambiance of the recording studio, with the band opting to engineer the record with their go-to live engineer Benjamin Capp before mixing the sessions with Greg Freeman in Berlin. The idea was to try and capture more of the energy of the band's captivating shows, saxophonist Jordan Smart explains:
Considering the group of tracks we had, it made sense to try and capture this process as organically and honestly as possible, and so a change in studio environment felt like the right move to us. Some of the tracks have a raw joy and energy that came with being able to play together again after a long period of time of having been apart, and capture that feeling of just being happy to be in a room with our instruments altogether again.
Whereas for pianist Nick Smart there was also the chance to really go deep into the band's music:
The new studio environment really opened us up to different ways of working and thinking because we could record at any hour of the day or night. I think this allowed us much more freedom to try unusual ideas and push elements of the music to extremes because we had the time to really focus in on the detail and work on things without time pressure. With some tracks, we were trying to find the boundaries of our playing ability and push beyond that point. With others, it was just getting into the right mindset and putting as much energy and emotion into the take as possible.'
The Welsh environment outside the studio doors seeped into the music presented on Gift from the Trees, with two recording sessions (one in winter and one in the spring) bringing different moods: one bleak and wintery, the other more hopeful and bright – an energy that permeates through tracks such as Kernel and Dimu.
Gift from the Trees opens with wonderfully elevating The Spinner which grew from one of Nick's piano parts and was developed and arranged into a complete tune without losing the feeling of constant flow and motion. It is almost like a dance, with the interaction of different melody parts and the doubling of certain parts melding together and fitting into the overall energetic flow, while Jesse's drums are both floating and deeply melodic. Riser aims to capture the band's raw energy and intriguingly is influenced by both breaks and modern drum production but also minimalist classical composition. Nightingale features the band at their most delicate and lyrical – a band favourite it draws heavily on modern folk with a beautifully realised melody that came unforced to pianist Nick Smart before being jammed out together. It was recorded early one morning, bringing an extra light and brightness to this beautiful performance.
Another album highlight is Dimu which utilises one of drummer Jesse Barret's favourite rhythmic devices from the Tabla repertoire and draws inspiration from Indian, Greek and Arabic music as well as modern folk arrangements. Dimu starts with saxophone over a bed of drones and percussion and moves through many different sections that frame and present the melodies in unique ways. The beguiling, intimate Deep within Mountains aims to place you in the room with the band as they play; it was recorded late at night to capture a dreamlike, liminal ambiance. The piano solo really reflects this mood and energy while the tenor is some of the softest and closest on the recording. Elsewhere, the remarkable Labyrinth started with what Nick describes as "some weird recording on my phone from a soundcheck, where Jordan was playing some crazy sounding bass clarinet part and I quickly recorded him", giving birth to a captivating, complex slice of propulsive 'almost' contemporary classical that like so much of the music on Gift from the Trees really couldn't be any other band than Mammal Hands.
Finally, the album draws to a close with the glorious Sleeping Bear, a tune that was wholly improvised in the studio. Nick and Jesse entered a simple but 'weird' locked groove and Jordan improvises melodies over the top. The track came about without any planning or thought; it was one of those special things that came by surprise and the band felt offered the perfect ending to their latest gift to us all: a deeply enthralling album that captures so much of what makes Mammal Hands a special band while mapping out new routes and paths for their beautiful, beguiling music.

Limited Edition of 2,000 copies, First time ever on vinyl. RIYL: Brian Eno, Max Richter, Eluvium, Tim Hecker, John Cage. Originally released a year after the increasingly iconic The Disintegration Loops, a decade later Melancholia still stands as William Basinski's second most beloved album. To commemorate its 10-year anniversary, we are honored to present the first-ever vinyl edition of this otherworldly piece of music. Remastered from the original recordings and pressed onto audiophile-quality 100% pure virgin vinyl, this limited-edition vinyl reissue is packaged in a stunning gatefold jacket featuring all-new artwork. It is truly a sight and sound to behold. Like many of Basinski's most soul-stirring works, Melancholia began as a series of short tape loops captured in the early 1980s. Basinski then stored them away for decades, revisiting them at a different time in his life, at which point they took on a stunning new sound all their own - one that many consider to be among the finest of the past decade. "Melancholia is probably the best of Basinski's records until now, even if this is hard for me to say given my love for each one of his releases. This music is so beautifully delicate and sad in its auto-reflective moods, it stands right there with everything ranging from the usual suspects in the 'ambient' field, to a distorted damp ghost of Claude Debussy or Maurice Ravel put into a time machine.' - Touching Extremes //

Mammal Hands announce spell-binding new album 'Gift from the Trees', their fifth studio album, pointing to subtle shifts and exciting new departures for the unique trio
"We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance..."
Mammal Hands fifth album 'Gift from the Trees' offers a fresh perspective on the unique trio's singular music. The first to be recorded in a residential studio, the band enjoyed the opportunity to go late into the night searching for a deeper, more organic experience, closer to both their writing process but also their trance-like live performances. While some of the music was pre-composed and had even been performed live, the band also enjoyed the opportunity to improvise ideas in the studio. Drummer Jesse Barrett explains:
We wanted to have a more immersive experience that felt closer to our writing process. One thing that was really important to us was feeling free to jam out ideas as they came to us. We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance and just follow that thread where it wants to go. Sometimes it's something as simple as a rhythmic, textural flow, like in Sleeping Bear.
There was also a conscious decision to move away from the sound and ambiance of the recording studio, with the band opting to engineer the record with their go-to live engineer Benjamin Capp before mixing the sessions with Greg Freeman in Berlin. The idea was to try and capture more of the energy of the band's captivating shows, saxophonist Jordan Smart explains:
Considering the group of tracks we had, it made sense to try and capture this process as organically and honestly as possible, and so a change in studio environment felt like the right move to us. Some of the tracks have a raw joy and energy that came with being able to play together again after a long period of time of having been apart, and capture that feeling of just being happy to be in a room with our instruments altogether again.
Whereas for pianist Nick Smart there was also the chance to really go deep into the band's music:
The new studio environment really opened us up to different ways of working and thinking because we could record at any hour of the day or night. I think this allowed us much more freedom to try unusual ideas and push elements of the music to extremes because we had the time to really focus in on the detail and work on things without time pressure. With some tracks, we were trying to find the boundaries of our playing ability and push beyond that point. With others, it was just getting into the right mindset and putting as much energy and emotion into the take as possible.'
The Welsh environment outside the studio doors seeped into the music presented on Gift from the Trees, with two recording sessions (one in winter and one in the spring) bringing different moods: one bleak and wintery, the other more hopeful and bright – an energy that permeates through tracks such as Kernel and Dimu.
Gift from the Trees opens with wonderfully elevating The Spinner which grew from one of Nick's piano parts and was developed and arranged into a complete tune without losing the feeling of constant flow and motion. It is almost like a dance, with the interaction of different melody parts and the doubling of certain parts melding together and fitting into the overall energetic flow, while Jesse's drums are both floating and deeply melodic. Riser aims to capture the band's raw energy and intriguingly is influenced by both breaks and modern drum production but also minimalist classical composition. Nightingale features the band at their most delicate and lyrical – a band favourite it draws heavily on modern folk with a beautifully realised melody that came unforced to pianist Nick Smart before being jammed out together. It was recorded early one morning, bringing an extra light and brightness to this beautiful performance.
Another album highlight is Dimu which utilises one of drummer Jesse Barret's favourite rhythmic devices from the Tabla repertoire and draws inspiration from Indian, Greek and Arabic music as well as modern folk arrangements. Dimu starts with saxophone over a bed of drones and percussion and moves through many different sections that frame and present the melodies in unique ways. The beguiling, intimate Deep within Mountains aims to place you in the room with the band as they play; it was recorded late at night to capture a dreamlike, liminal ambiance. The piano solo really reflects this mood and energy while the tenor is some of the softest and closest on the recording. Elsewhere, the remarkable Labyrinth started with what Nick describes as "some weird recording on my phone from a soundcheck, where Jordan was playing some crazy sounding bass clarinet part and I quickly recorded him", giving birth to a captivating, complex slice of propulsive 'almost' contemporary classical that like so much of the music on Gift from the Trees really couldn't be any other band than Mammal Hands.
Finally, the album draws to a close with the glorious Sleeping Bear, a tune that was wholly improvised in the studio. Nick and Jesse entered a simple but 'weird' locked groove and Jordan improvises melodies over the top. The track came about without any planning or thought; it was one of those special things that came by surprise and the band felt offered the perfect ending to their latest gift to us all: a deeply enthralling album that captures so much of what makes Mammal Hands a special band while mapping out new routes and paths for their beautiful, beguiling music.

Introducing a brand new artist on Skep Wax Records, MARLODY releases debut album I’m Not Sure At All. Limited edition white vinyl LP plus digital DL and signed postcard. Marlody’s first album I’m Not Sure At All takes anxiety, weakness, fear - and turns them into strength: powerful melodies, the sweetest harmonies you ever heard, and lyrics that insist on the possibility of hope, without losing sight of the possibility of despair.

Dominated by her extraordinary keyboard playing, Marlody’s songs are illuminated - and sometimes made sinister by occasional bursts of programmed percussion, submarine bass and distant, chiming digital bells. These are deep, darkly beautiful pop songs. When she was a girl, Marlody was one of the higher-achieving classical pianists of her generation, winning competitions and destined for greatness.

She hated it, and threw it all away. In the intervening years, putting more and more distance between herself and her classical origins, she listened to Yo La Tengo and Shellac and a hundred other things that took music to new, untutored extremes. I’m Not Sure At All is the outcome. Marlody’s painful personal journey is not glossed over in the lyrics: Words is about the debilitating effect of psychiatric medication; Malevolence is about the horrible urge to commit inexcusable violence;

Friends in Low Places is a remarkable hymn of solidarity with all those people who’ve contemplated taking their own lives. But the songs are strangely uplifting: they offer up their truths so calmly and are so generously wrapped in harmonies that they feel like gifts. There are great stories here too: Summer takes a child’s point of view, describing the beginnings of new life after the loss of a parent.

Wrong relates the history of an adulterous affair, with a piercing sympathy for the emotional state of the adulterer. There are musical echoes: the infectiousness and daring of some of the vocal melodies might remind you of Kate Bush, the intimacy might remind you of Cate Le Bon, the stabs of anger and pain might remind you of Liz Phair. The keyboard is sometimes as smooth as Fleetwood Mac; other times it’s as raucous and distorted as Quasi. The harmonies are from another place again – you could imagine hearing them in an Unthanks recording. I’m Not Sure At All will be released by Skep Wax on limited edition white vinyl and all digital services.

Clear Vinyl

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone. Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all.

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone. Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all.

While the theme of the four elements has been a constant source of inspiration in the arts, its setting to music using electroacoustic techniques seems highly auspicious, since the notion of matter and its transformation is consubstantial with the concrete approach. In »Sphæra«, Daniel Teruggi precisely addresses this question, transcending matter with the help of novel digital audio techniques so as to draw out forms, trajectories, layers, and musical objects, all of which result from the merging or sublimation of primordial sounds. Indeed, this is where Daniel Teruggi’s music and compositional approach stand out: by engaging sounds, with strength, will and inspiration, in a close encounter with energies, whether tectonic or electrical. Such collisions, such metamorphoses, are then appeased in the whole space of the composition, a fascinating landscape, the final destination of all transmutations. (François Bonnet, Paris, 2021)

"Between 1984 and 1989, my acousmatic work was focused on processing and merging the four fundamental substances. Each 'element' gradually became articulated with the others, thus crystallizing my subjective perception of their materiality. Over the years, helped by the enthusiasm of a Greek friend who propelled me into the Socratic universe, what started out as an exploratory path has become a circular, spherical unity, in which each occurrence simultaneously belongs to one of the four substances as well as the whole.

These four sections, of uneven durations, embody the different resonances of each 'element' upon my imagination. The movements are ordered compositionally and range from the intangibility of the air to the extreme density of the earth.
In Eterea, the dual nature of air, a space for the dissemination of sounds and an environment for mobile masses, shaped the work and the development of its forms. Whether it be the vast expanse of particles as organised movement or the displacement of sources in our three-dimensional perception, ethereal air fills the space and drives the immaterial motions and gestures.

Aquatica locates the materiality of water in relation to its amazing extremes: from the drop to the ocean, an extensive journey unfolds through the various phases of the reinvented liquid. Still waters, deadly waters, raging waters follow one another, leading to the aerial fusion of a primordial equilibrium eventually retrieved.

Then comes Focolaria and the unsteady fires, the elusive and wild will-o’-the- wisps that open and adorn the gates leading to the depths of the earth.

The land of Terra is devoid of atmosphere, a land of matters before the advent of life. The sounds of the original matter merge and evolve into purer forms. The motions trigger progressions towards new equilibriums of forces, the ultimate fusion, the very last attempt, needed for the emergence of life.

The sphere is now complete, the world ready for creation..." (Daniel Teruggi)

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.

Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.

Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’

The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such?

Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.

A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.

It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Transparent Blue Vinyl

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone. Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all.

Imagine the Buzzcocks with Syd Barrett as the singer!" THE BACHELOR PAD : five lysergically-enhanced heads from Strathbungo, Glasgow. Psychedelic punks born into, but delightfully out of step with the UK indie fanzine culture of the time. Flashes of red and purple... Perfect pop buried amidst a nuclear maelstrom of noise and excitement. During their brief existence they burned bright, squeezing out an album, 5 singles and a flexi-disc, with the cream of the crop being served up on this career spanning compilation. Gatefold sleeve, color vinyl. "...amid the sonic bedlam, they write the sweetest melodies, they've got the most agreeable harmonies.

It's all about extremes: "Do It For Fun" is the noise your brain makes when everything you've taken comes on top at once; "Tumble And Fall" is as cute as a squirrel's nut, "The Coroner's Wife" is.... well, answers on a postcard, please." Alexis Petridis