The Poison Touch delves deeper into atmosphere while maintaining the gritty undertone that defines us. From start to finish, the listener is blasted with in-your-face raw energy while simultaneously feeling like a hauntingly beautiful experience. This record captures the essence of our live sound while exploring new realms, serving as both a continuation and evolution of our style.
Black Vinyl[22,65 €]
Ltd Edition!
Mit diesem sechsten Studioalbum schließt Richard Dawson den Kreis und knüpft an seine ersten Solo-Veröffentlichungen vor mehr als einem Jahrzehnt an!
War The Ruby Cord (2022) eine Studie in üppigen Arrangements und epischem, fantasievollem Songwriting, so kehrt Dawson mit End of the Middle sowohl klanglich als auch thematisch in die Heimat zurück. Der Fokus des Albums auf alltägliche häusliche Geschichten durch das Prisma eines „typischen englischen Mittelklasse-Haushalts“ spiegelt sich in der sparsamen
Instrumentierung - nur Gitarre, Schlagzeug und Gesang - und den sanften, sich windenden Melodien wider. Mit diesem Album, das an seine ersten Solo-Veröffentlichungen vor mehr als einem Jahrzehnt anknüpft, hat Dawson einen Kreis geschlossen: das Ende der Mitte.
Art Print[23,95 €]
Ltd Edition!
Mit diesem sechsten Studioalbum schließt Richard Dawson den Kreis und knüpft an seine ersten Solo-Veröffentlichungen vor mehr als einem Jahrzehnt an!
War The Ruby Cord (2022) eine Studie in üppigen Arrangements und epischem, fantasievollem Songwriting, so kehrt Dawson mit End of the Middle sowohl klanglich als auch thematisch in die Heimat zurück. Der Fokus des Albums auf alltägliche häusliche Geschichten durch das Prisma eines „typischen englischen Mittelklasse-Haushalts“ spiegelt sich in der sparsamen
Instrumentierung - nur Gitarre, Schlagzeug und Gesang - und den sanften, sich windenden Melodien wider. Mit diesem Album, das an seine ersten Solo-Veröffentlichungen vor mehr als einem Jahrzehnt anknüpft, hat Dawson einen Kreis geschlossen: das Ende der Mitte.
Red w. Black Smoke Vinyl
After 25 years, eight albums, and countless gigs, BLEEDING THROUGH persist as a tried-and-true outlier in heavy music and culture. The Southern California stalwarts wield an enigmatic and unmistakable signature sound born at the cross roads of no-holds-barred hardcore, cutthroat thrash, and cinematic black metal.
Mastering a drastic push-and-pull, they have always occupied their own elevated realm in the extreme space, exhibiting a rare ability to not only incite a moshpit, but also invite complete immersion. It’s why they’ve endured changing tides and trends and stood strong as a force of nature with consistent critical acclaim and packed shows. However, the six-piece - Brandan Schieppati vocals, Derek Youngsma [drums], John Arnold [guitar], Ryan Wombacher [bass], Marta Peterson [keys, vocals] and Brandon Richter [guitar] - assuredly perfect this vision in 2025 on their aptly titled ninth full-length offering, NINE.
Somewhat incredibly, this four-piece vocal Soul act are still performing today after 56 years of harmonising, without anything they recorded achieving a physical release until a few years ago. What began as four guys singing together for fun after basketball practice in Portland, took until early 1977 to realise as actual recordings – and that lone tape of four original songs lay unreleased until 2020. From that set we've pulled a bright and lively gem ripe for plays on the Modern Soul scene, backed with stunning, polished slow-jam.
First time ever on 7" 45rpm vinyl, dinked centre hole with picture sleeve, 500 numbered copies only.
New Omar S alert! The FXHE label boss wastes no time in dropping heat this New Year as he once again hooks up with vocalist Desire for this latest house gem. Up first is 'Something Real', in the classic Omar S mould of laying down a deep, heartfelt drum line and then topping it with a mad emotive vocal hook that is filled with r&b goodness and joined by the most subtle cosmic chord motifs. 'Hard Leaf Rag' follows next, so raw it will make your ears tickle with its busted drums and serrated stabs. Then flip it over for 'Conant Leaf Rag', which pairs warbling synth sounds with dusty hi-hats and tight kicks for a nice, full mind and body workout.
In Todmorden, the oddly-named market border town in West Yorkshire with a habit for embracing the weird and wonderful, a burst of sunshine is a precious thing. Through the thick of Winter, through every season in fact, the town’s folk are used to the wind and rain, fog and mist. As much a part of the town as the trademark deep valley it sits in, here the lay of the land invites the weather in, just as it does the many musicians, artists, and unique characters that have come to call the place home over the centuries.
Bridget Hayden is one such soul who found a home among these hills. The experimental musician, who invites the ghosts in for the classic folk songs that make up her stunning new album, knows only too well about such weather, how rare and treasured the breaks from it are. Her favourite thing to do in the valley, she says, is “to make the most of every tiny minute of sunshine.”
Such aspirations nearly derailed the recording of Cold Blows the Rain, her new eight-song collection released via the Todmorden- based label Basin Rock. Having hired the town’s Oddfellow’s Hall to record these new songs in the late summer of 2022, Hayden says the weather was so good she ended up basking in every second of it, only moving inside to begin recording when the sun was setting, working deep into the night to make up the time.
There’s a good chance, however, that it had to be this way. The songs that make up Cold Blows the Rain are not made for the sunlight. They come, instead, wrapped in mist and coated with drizzle, those elements shaping the album as much as the voice and the instruments held within, as real but ambiguous as the ghosts that linger in the shadows. The sound of the dark valley floor.
Mostly centred around meditative and experimental improvisation, Bridget’s work to-date has seen her spend more than two decades recording and performing on the underground music scene. She’s also toured internationally both as a solo artist and as part of bands such as Schisms and The Telescopes, while working on various side-projects with the likes of Folklore Tapes.
For all of this sonic exploration, so much of her work has been formed around elements of traditional folk aesthetics and, over time, she began to piece together a collection of reinterpreted traditional songs that she absorbed as a child from her mother: through The Dubliners and Muddy Waters, to Bessie Smith and The Leadbelly Songbook. Harvesting her love for Nina Simone, Karen Dalton, Margaret Barry, and more, Bridget takes these traditional songs and transforms them into something uniquely evocative
"It goes back to the womb,” Bridget says of that connection. “I would not call it a memory as it is so deep within my blood and bones. My mum was the source, she sang all the time, as part of life. So it was a very lulling and natural introduction. It seemed common to hear her singing – unbeknownst to her – in time with a raindrop dripping at the window,” Bridget continues. “I’ve always wanted to do a folk record as I love these songs so much. It comes much more naturally to me to sing other people’s words, especially when they’re as beautiful as these old verses.”
Underpinned by waves of analogue reverb, and led by Bridget’s stirring and weather-beaten voice, the songs on Cold Blows the Rain drift and crawl like low heavy clouds on flat-top hills, shaped by the land. The backdrop is equally as arresting, all subtle gloom cast in shadow, a gentle but pronounced swirling of textures, crafted from harmonium and violin courtesy of The Apparitions (Sam Mcloughlin and Dan Bridgewood-Hill).
“The weather speaks the most eloquently about human loss,” Bridget says, articulating such sentiments. “It’s good to feel enveloped by something so much vaster than ourselves. The rain and the tears all become one.”
Emmanuel Mario returns to Karaoke Kalk with his third album under his Astrobal moniker for the Berlin-based imprint. »L’uomo e la natura« (»Man and Nature«) sees the prolific drummer and producer, who has worked with artists such as Laetitia Sadier and label mate Pink Shabab, take a different musical route than before. The French electronic music composer pays homage to the spirit of library music while also making concessions to different strains of pop and even classical music. With only two of the ten songs putting words to the music, »L’uomo e la natura« is a masterful exercise in the evocation of atmospheres: expressing much while saying very little outright—show, don’t tell.
The album was born out of a desire to push the envelope. »I wanted to make music that was both pop and ambitious in its chord progressions as well as surprising in its construction,« explains the Paris-based artist. Taking inspiration from library music artists such as Alessandro Alessandroni or Bruno Nicolai as well as the more cosmic strains of electronic instrumental music, he strove »to create a soundtrack that would immediately bring to mind outer space.« The first of the three singles released ahead of the full album, »L’abeille pourpre,« captures this spirit with funky rhythms and an overjoyed interplay of different melodies, all tied together by wordless yet terminally catchy vocals.
The second single, »Miami 2064,« traverses through many different moods in its six-minute run-time: Starting off as neo-noir synth-wave piece, it then proceeds to pay its dues to the masters of the cosmic music tradition such as Tangerine Dream or, of course, Jean-Michel Jarre before slowly descending back to Earth with guitars and dreamy synthetic vocals, playfully punctuated by a plethora of wistful melodies. It is the perfect encapsulation of the open-ended approach Mario follows throughout the entire album, taking full creative licence in regards to songwriting and arrangements. »I wanted to surprise myself,« he shrugs. He succeeded.
»L’uomo e la natura« rewards multiple listens not only emotionally, but also intellectually. »I also wanted to talk about politics and ecology, because it’s impossible not to,« Mario notes. Some of the track titles express this more openly than others and the two title tracks sung by Mario and Nina Savary use French and Italian lyrics, respectively. However, as a whole the album leaves things open to interpretation. Does »The End of Capitalism« sound elegiac or triumphant? And what do you actually make of this musical vision of the Floridian metropolis, whose mere existence is threatened by climate change already today, four decades from now? Mario doesn’t necessarily answer these questions—he doesn’t tell, he shows.
As Jess Sylvester finished his Hardly Art debut as Marinero in the fall of 2020, he realized it was time for a change. Sylvester grew up in Marin County, on the doorstep of San Francisco. It was a nurturing community for a high-school punk with a pompadour and, later, for a sober songwriter with a proclivity for moody psychedelia. But he wanted to be challenged and inspired by a new setting and scenario around strangers who prompted him to approach his music in unexpected ways. So in September 2020, as the world continued to reel in lockdown, Sylvester headed several hours south to Los Angeles, a city that, despite the relative proximity, the film buff knew largely from classic and cult films situated there. When he arrived, he kept digging into that cinematic past-Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, with John Williams' classic theme, or classic 90s movies about East LA, many featuring Edward James Olmos. They shaped his understanding of his new town just as it began to open. This is one pillar of the multivalent and endlessly lush La La La, Marinero's new album about sobriety, identity, and fantasy that is playfully named both for the city that helped shape it and the sophisticated pop it contains. Sylvester wrote about characters outside of himself, whether considering the heroine reckoning with her own version of keeping clean or the screenwriters whose work was deemed communist simply as a political convenience. He linked those songs with motivational anthems about self-acceptance and playful numbers about flirting through food, shaping a 12-song set rich with humor, empathy, and encouragement. Sure, La La La is a continuation of the slippery genre play Sylvester started with 2021's Hella Love, 2019's Trópico de Cáncer, or even before that. But it also feels like a fresh beginning for Marinero, as Sylvester realizes how boundless this project can be. He began to think about the music of his childhood, how his mother is from San Francisco with Mexican roots, and how he'd heard so much salsa growing up as an impetuous teenager. So he wrote "Taquero," a red-hot salsa tune that uses tacos and their trappings as a source of endless metaphors for come-ons. And then there was the Ray Barreto or Santana-inspired "Pocha Pachanga," with organ gliding and percussion pulsing beneath his yearning vocals, warped as if by desert winds. In Los Angeles, he found a wealth of players who spoke this music like language itself (including Chicano Batman's Eduardo Arenas), all ready to play with and push these familiar forms. Sylvester has also been sober for 21 years, since a cross-country sojourn to attend college in Boston ended in a chemical haze. Today, he sees friends facing the same decisions he made two decades ago, and he brings bits of that experience to bear in songs that feel like self-help anthems. Recorded with a musical hero (and labelmate) of his, Chris Cohen, "Sea Changes" feels like sunshine breaking through dark clouds, as Sylvester acknowledges the newfound confidence and clarity in a friend who has stepped away from destructive habits. In the past, Sylvester has been intractably linked to his identity as a Mexican-American, born to parents from Mexico and Irish- American descent who settled in San Francisco. That can be limiting, of course, tying him to notions of sound and style that aren't always correct. On La La La, he simultaneously steps into and out of those preconceptions, singing tracks above salsa in joyous Spanish or pondering the dynamics of the Hollywood Ten and blacklists above mysterious lap steel and teasing trumpet. His identity, then, should now be clear: He is a Californian, making music shaped by the diversity of encounters and experiences that are a central part of that state's fabric. Never before has he presented himself so fully and unabashedly on tape as with La La La, an album Sylvester built with new inspirations to deliver new charms.
Moshe Fisher-Rozenberg returns to Altin Village & Mine with his second album as Memory Pearl. »Cosmic-Astral« reimagines a music programme used by psychotherapists in the 1970s in combination with LSD. While the original album was designed to take the listener on a cosmic journey of personal discovery through classical music, Fisher-Rozenberg draws on the sounds of electronic instruments and a collage-like approach: he converted the scores of the original pieces by Richard Strauss, Alexander Scriabin, and others into MIDI files, manipulated those into entirely new shapes and sounds using a variety of techniques, while also combining them with improvisational input from artists such as Sam Prekop, Joseph Shabason, Moritz Fasbender, Alec O’Hanley, Bram Gielen, and Brandon Valdivia.
Besides his work as a multi-instrumentalist, producer and collaborator of bands such as Alvvays as well as a member of the group Absolutely Free, Fisher-Rozenberg is also a registered psychotherapist and certified music therapist. »Cosmic-Astral« is hence marked by his expertise in both fields while also displaying the conceptual rigour and aesthetic playfulness that had already been in full effect on his Memory Pearl debut, 2021’s »Music for 7 Paintings« for Altin Village & Mine. Aiming to create his own version of the »Cosmic-Astral« programme, but making it more »delicate and tender,« as he puts it, Fisher-Rozenberg combines the ethereal with the terrestrial, abstraction and concretion, synthesization and the organic across these nine tracks.
As a whole, the resulting album is quite literally trippy. »Each piece is meant to bring the listener deeper into their journey,« explains the Toronto-based artist. »You can think of it in terms of space travel, with each tune taking you further out of yourself and deeper into a cosmic realm.« Think about »Cosmic Astral« as a map through which you can find your way towards sonic healing.
Of all the nicknames given to Elvis, only one of them really seems to reflect his importance in the history of rock: they called him The King.
Together with Chuck Berry, Elvis represented the young generation that vibrated to the music with new rhythms that appeared in the Fifties: Rock’n’Roll. Presley’s personality, not to mention his voice, charm, and a whole series of chart hits, guaranteed Elvis a special place in the hearts of his fans; and not only in his own lifetime, because the same is true some fifty years later.
The thirty titles included in this album are a brilliant demonstration of Elvis’ talents, and the music alone is enough to explain the cult following of his fans, who will worship him forever.
The music of Green Cosmos makes us realize that our never- ending quest for love can find fulfillment. You take a long, slow breath and feel the magic of transcendent wisdom. There is not one note too many, and everything gets to the heart of the matter. A saxophone that sails ahead on a world- map of sound, driven by the beat of Kalimba and drums, sometimes fraternizing with a bass that‘s now insistent and then shy, and closely listens to a reassuringly omniscient piano until the music merges into a unit that‘s greater than its parts and sees us through the night.
Celebrate the 5th anniversary of Avengers: Endgame, featuring a powerful score by Alan Silvestri on purple vinyl.
Vol 2[28,99 €]
Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.
If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.
Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.
It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.
Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.
In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.
No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.
For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.
“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.
Metal Church’s 4th album is often cited as their best. Breaking through in the-mid eighties within a blossoming Thrash Metal scene, these guys from Seattle stuck to their guns while other bands were polishing their sound to meet popular demand. The Human Factor (1991) excels in chugging riffs, melodic breaks, pulsing beats and furious vocals - a true Thrash classic. The lyrics stand out in their substance: singer Mike Howe tackles political and social subjects on “Date with Poverty”, “Flee From Reality” and “The Final Word”.
The Human Factor is available as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on translucent red coloured vinyl.
The Durutti Column, Linda Perhacs, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Judee Sill. Hello and welcome to Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking, the new record by Lina Tullgren. It is a deeply gorgeous intervention, a carefully ornamented dilemma, the most inviting crisis. Made with a host of Los Angeles musicians, Decide exposes Tullgren's daring and trust. Each song is a ring of curious sound: the skip of harp strings, the flutter of woodwinds, the ratchet of percussion, the euphonium's sigh. And at the center of each wreath, Tullgren sings, finding this space between Judee Sill and Sam Jayne. It's a tone that signals weariness, but a weariness hand-in-hand with tenacity. There's a clarity, a kind of immovability. Lina Tullgren's first record came in 2016, a homemade, under-the-skin set of laments. Subsequent LPs and constant touring cemented Tullgren's reputation as a composer of "wide-eyed wonder paired with a resonant despair." 2019's Free Cell showed Tullgren lingering in the margins of their songs, finding places both aloof and spare. Floodgates opened; Tullgren spent the subsequent years exploring deep listening, improvised music, and extended technique. They developed a patience and faith in cooperation that ranged at the far edge of song. Collaborations with Mayo Thompson and Claire Rousay furthered this development. This was not a break with the past for Tullgren, rather it was an opportunity to see how far a song could go. And from that distance, deep in a landscape of drone and tension, Tullgren returned to the bright vulnerability of a lyric and a hook. Weaving together the affective and the radical, Tullgren took the quiet isolation of a shoreline cabin to write the songs that would become Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking. For Tullgren, Decide is a culmination of all the work they've done throughout their life: the melodic, the dense, the confessional, the unknowable. It's also a tribute to collaboration. Describing the sessions as having "a lot of space and a lot of ease,"" Tullgren invited musicians from a vast field of songmaking to play on the recording: Leng Bian, Zach Burba, Luke Csehak, Corey Fogel, Jenny Hirons, Tara Milch, Tim Ramsey, Michael Sachs, Jude Tedaldi, Marta Tiesenga and Ben Varian. Jonny Kosmo's backhouse was offered as a cozy, easygoing space for the players to create their parts together, and the record was completed by Tullgren and Luke Csehak together at their Los Angeles home. In Tullgren's words: "I feel really strongly that this album is a portrait of the community I found in Los Angeles." Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking is a quiet masterpiece: a generous, memorable journey. It is the result of five years of labor, the product of abandoning the pop song entirely and starting over. Whatever wanderings or doubt fueled it, Decide is also entirely at ease: a record on which Tullgren sings "and I know/what to do now" and "I know exactly what to do" in subsequent songs, clear in the revelations this path has given the
Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.
Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.
