Search:the shock

NOW is pleased to announce the next addition in the Millennium series NOW –the ultimate celebration of the finest pop hits from the 2000s . NOW – Millennium 2008-2009, bringing the first decade to a close – out September 27th! Available on STD 4CD set and a special edition 84-track 4CD set is housed in ‘hard-back-book’ packaging, including a 28-page booklet summary of the years and a track-by-track guide and 30 tracks across 2LP’s, pressed in a Gorgeous Gold and a White Vinyl, showcasing some of the most iconic sounds of the noughties!

Repress! with New Artwork

FELT’s sixth volume extracts another fascinating mineral from Guy Brewer’s Carrier alias, further descending the wormhole of darkside minimalism with his most obfuscated rhythmic explorations yet.

FATHOM witnesses Guy Brewer’s unrelenting distillation of precision electronics develop beyond prior incarnations into unclassifiable mutations. Carrier is his sonic vessel in this new era, liberating his prior restrictions to highlight the outer kinetic recesses of experimental sounds that finds a natural home on Perko’s ever-evolving FELT imprint.

The title track twitches along in hallucinatory abstraction, circling the depths with glitched-out programming and fogged-out atmospherics. The Cusp narrows its gaze, meditating on a tense drum rollage that teeters on mellowed menace. Markers then forms a mechanised rinse-out of rumbling subs and plummeting steppers momentum. Trooper unfurls in a finale of future-shocked half time rollage and arpeggiated textures that affirms Carrier’s unwavering vision in sound and style.

“Wrecking Ball” was one thing. Now comes the long-awaited anti-austerity blast-a-thon with the teeth, venom and one-of-a-kind music of Jello Biafra. The second full-length from Jello Biafra and the Guantanamo School of Medicine picks up where last fall’s SHOCK-U-PY! left off. Covered in gruesome detail this time are corruption (“The Brown Lipstick Parade”), “Werewolves of Wall Street,” “Road Rage,” and corporate McMedia making pop stars out of small-time crooks to shield the big ones (“John Dillinger”) or tabloid pop stars to lobotomize everyone else (“Hollywood Goof Disease”). The title track shines a light on our never-ending foreign policy disasters in ways even Jello’s spoken word albums never did. “Crapture” is the perfect song to play for those lovely End Times believers, pointing out how much better the world would be for everyone else left behind—replete with melodies on the scale Biafra hasn’t really touched since “Moon Over Marin.” Above all, White People and the Damage Done rocks! No pop punk here, just Jello and crew taking punk fire in unexplored directions, with wallof-sound, in-your-face production from Marshall Lawless and Matt Kelley (lots of Jello projects, Hieroglyphics, The Coup, Digital Underground, Zen Guerrilla). Lineup retains the double-barreled guitar attack of Ralph Spight (Victims Family, Freak Accident) and Kimo Ball (Freak Accident, Griddle, Mol Triffid), joined by bassist Andrew Weiss (Rollins Band, Ween, Butthole Surfers, more) and drummer Paul Della Pelle (Helios Creed, Nik Turner’s Space Ritual, and Philly HC legends Ruin)

“Wrecking Ball” was one thing. Now comes the long-awaited anti-austerity blast-a-thon with the teeth, venom and one-of-a-kind music of Jello Biafra. The second full-length from Jello Biafra and the Guantanamo School of Medicine picks up where last fall’s SHOCK-U-PY! left off. Covered in gruesome detail this time are corruption (“The Brown Lipstick Parade”), “Werewolves of Wall Street,” “Road Rage,” and corporate McMedia making pop stars out of small-time crooks to shield the big ones (“John Dillinger”) or tabloid pop stars to lobotomize everyone else (“Hollywood Goof Disease”). The title track shines a light on our never-ending foreign policy disasters in ways even Jello’s spoken word albums never did. “Crapture” is the perfect song to play for those lovely End Times believers, pointing out how much better the world would be for everyone else left behind—replete with melodies on the scale Biafra hasn’t really touched since “Moon Over Marin.” Above all, White People and the Damage Done rocks! No pop punk here, just Jello and crew taking punk fire in unexplored directions, with wallof-sound, in-your-face production from Marshall Lawless and Matt Kelley (lots of Jello projects, Hieroglyphics, The Coup, Digital Underground, Zen Guerrilla). Lineup retains the double-barreled guitar attack of Ralph Spight (Victims Family, Freak Accident) and Kimo Ball (Freak Accident, Griddle, Mol Triffid), joined by bassist Andrew Weiss (Rollins Band, Ween, Butthole Surfers, more) and drummer Paul Della Pelle (Helios Creed, Nik Turner’s Space Ritual, and Philly HC legends Ruin)

A fully licensed, analogue reissue -- sure, on cassette and not on vinyl, that's a
long story -- of the first Index LP, originally released in 1967
The "Black Album" is one of the all-time holy grails of psychedelia, with originals going
for more than $4,000. It is an album "with a really druggie sound, full of feedback and
fuzzy guitars. The vocals, when present, are not easily heard. The cover of 'Eight Miles
High' is very good, probably one of the best cover versions I have ever heard. The
original songs all follow a similar pattern as the covers, with hazy guitar riffs and loud
rhythms. The last track is particularly noisy and unstructured. Hidden in amongst the
echoing canyons of sound there's some really snotty punk attitude wrapped up in
trippy velvet fuzz."
This record is magnificent-- bizarre, atmospheric, amateurish (in the best of all
possible ways). It has a wonderful bleak sound, both droning and murky... the atonal
sound of 1960's rock that would leave the most lasting impression on what would
become future punk, post-punk and indie rock artists.
"Much has been written about this incredible band. Much of it isn't true. Index was
formed in the early spring of 1967 in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. I was 18 years old
when I met a chain-smoking 16-year-old named Gary Francis. Our conversation soon
got around to rock and roll. He told me that he and his friend, John Ford, were forming
a band. I told him that I played drums and we arranged a jam session at John's home
on Lakeshore Drive. Our first meeting was incredible. Our sound was full and
powerful. John's lead guitar techniques were fresh and innovative. After our first
sessions we knew we had something special. Index was born. Soon we hit the local
'sock hop' circuit, playing at high schools and teen clubs in the area. We poured our
unique sound out at The Hideout, Undercroft and G.P. War Memorial every weekend.
One afternoon John pulled out a new album he had been listening to. It was a new
band with a mind-shattering sound called 'The Jimi Hendrix Experience.' John played
some songs he had written inspired by this 'psychedelic' sound. Over the next few
days, 'Fire Eyes,' 'Shock Wave' and 'Feedback' were written. This album was recorded
in December of 1967 at the Ford estate. It is recorded in mono with literally one
microphone and with all instruments and vocals recorded at the same time. The cover
photo is of founders of a singing group John joined at Yale. The stiff, board- like
figures seem to characterize the exact opposite of this musical collection. This
reissue is taken from the original recordings. Nothing has been added and all songs
are in their original length. Over the years various bootleg copies of this album have
surfaced but this is the original work." --Jim Valice

This is the northeast calling, with songs of stillness, reflection, renewal, defiance, hope, classic melodies and, at certain perfectly judged moments, furniture-shifting riffs. With a powerful album shaped by pandemic-era loss (of momentum, and of a band member), and by the wins brought by what singer/songwriter/guitarist Adam Hope describes as a “weight lifted off my shoulders”. With a fresh, front-footed, fired-up approach that owes everything to a band returning to their roots in Wallsend and Newcastle – and, for the first time, making their music entirely on their own independent terms: self-produced and self-confident. “The Big Sad: an album born from the ashes of dark times but representing a beacon of light for the future. An album of honesty and purity, one that our current fanbase sonically may not be expecting. The sound of a band that got tired of slamming on the fuzz pedal to tick the ‘rock’ box and dares to try something new, dares to shock, dares to be great.

"Donald Duck, kill Minnie!" These words, ordered with urgency against a circular series of drum strikes and manipulated guitar/electronic textures, come over three fourths of the way through the album known as SYR 5 (aka "Olive's Horn"). While the words and sounds taken on their own may shock, their appearance within this collaborative effort between Kim Gordon (Sonic Youth, Body/Head, solo efforts), Ikue Mori (DNA, solo) and DJ Olive (We, solo) by this point in the album are not surprising. Taken on whole, SYR 5 sees its creators' respective histories forged in the 80s downtown noise scene, No Wave zone and Marclay-inspired club collide head on to create the audio equivalent of a slow-playing J.G. Ballard novel. Starting from the album's initial impressions where shimmering tones are interrupted by the sounds of winding clocks and bird calls before giving way to a cinematic sweeps of percussion, alien samples and blown out wasteland subs, the listener is constantly taken on a guided journey through a waking dream state where anything is possible. It is a world where dub samples, gurling beats and plaintive vocals (as only Gordon can deliver) fit together like the final locking puzzle pieces, the only elements needed to fully grasp a new reality. Re-appearing on vinyl for the first time in 25 years, these sounds have proven to be jaw-droppingly timeless. - Cory Rayborn, 2025

j.o.y.s. is both the moniker of and the debut self-titled LP by the Los Angeles based artist Ramon Narvaez. j.o.y.s. is an acronym for “jump out of your skin”. While the phrase can conjure moments of shock and surprise, Narvaez, however uses the phrase as a foot lamp illuminating a path towards momentary transcendence through creating beautifully conjured ambient music that recalls work by Daniel Lanois, suss, Dean Hurley and Tim Hecker. While the pedal steel is prominent, j.o.y.s., as a project, is more in conversation with shoegaze and noise than what has recently been deemed ambient country. Heavy brutalist slabs of noise, swirling feedback create the sound bed of these songs. Collaborator Justin Gaynor’s pedal steel on this album operates as important connective tissue as both the road and the traveler between the light and shadow zones. Drones are wrapped in distortion, processed just below the threshold where we’d throw the word “harsh” around. Rather, there is a delicate dance between Gaynor’s top-rope pedal steel lines - always sweet and always just a bit mournful - with Narvaez’s ringing bass notes and noise chatter. j.o.y.s. revels in intransigence. Nothing can last. As Matt Colquhoun puts in the introduction to Mark Fisher’s heartbreaking Ghosts of My Life - our identity and relationship to the past are “portals in perpetual collapse”. Depression, friendship, longing are all briefly satiated while in the peak experience of creating something as a response to them. But even that is impermanent. These sounds - improvised, exploratory, ecstatic - are eventually edited, whittled down and pressed to wax - not tombs but portals to the past.

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."

Apollo / R&S are delighted to welcome back The Primitive Painter, aka the duo of Roman Flügel and Jörn Elling Wuttke for a timely reissue of their 1994 lost classic self-titled album of sonorous IDM.

Growing up in Frankfurt, in the 80s and 90s the duo met at an indie rock club in their home town of Darmstadt, bonding over their shared obsession with the first wave of acid, Chicago house and early Detroit techno as well as their patronage of now iconic Frankfurt club nights like The Omen or Dorian Gray or the infamous Delirium Record shop run by scene stalwarts Ata (Robert Johnson) and Heiko MSO (Playhouse).

Taking inspiration from the likes of The Black Dog and Transmat as well as seminal compilations such as Planet E’s Intergalactic Beats and Warp’s Artificial intelligence compilation the duo honed their inventive take on the Detroit techno blueprint under the monicker Acid Jesus, debuting on their freshly minted Klang Elektronik label. The label was started in conjunction with Ata and Heiko after Fluegel & Wuttke (regular patrons of the Delirium store) pressed a demo on them, muttering the immortal line; “Please listen to the tape, we are big Mr. Fingers fans.”

Through the mid ’90s the project flourished giving rise to a classic album and a brace of singles that number amongst the best of the era’s techno, winning them a influential fans most notably Sven Väth, David Holmes and Andrew Weatherall who invited them to play live at one of the legendary Sabresonic parties in London.

Alongside the success of the Acid Jesus project, the duo found great inspiration in outside of the club, including an ambient happening when the KLF came to play Frankfurt; “There were live sheep eating grass on stage while they played at Mark Spoon’s club XS”, as well as cinematic influence from the likes of Jim Jarmush and Wim Wenders. It was however the euphonic IDM grandeur of Apollo Recordings self titled compilation of 1993 that really got their creative juices flowing: “It was a ten track compilation with artists like David Morley, Model 500, Aphex Twin which still sounds so good today,” Jörn enthuses. “ It was really the trigger to go away from the Detroit sound and more towards the big melodies of B12 etc.”

Deciding to make their tribute to this style of music the duo turned out 10 tracks of gauzy, melodious electronica in a white hot fever, one after another over the ensuing months. Settling on a name for the new project they picked ‘The Primitive Painters’ taking inspiration from the band Felt. “We are both children of the C86 movement,” explains Jörn. “this attitude of noisy art school influenced rock like Primal Scream, MBV, The Jesus & Mary Chain really inspired us to take a DIY approach to our music.”

They sent the resulting demo cassette to Renaat at R&S / Apollo. “We really had no expectations,” Jörn explains. “So we were shocked and delighted when we received a fax saying that he wanted to release it”.

The resulting release was bungled by an R&S mix up that attributed the album to the duo’s own Klang Elektronik label which confused both fans and distributors alike, denying the release the critical boost and attention that it so richly deserved. Accordingly the release slipped out without much fanfare, with a chastened Fluegel & Wuttke returning to their Acid Jesus activities which would eventually lead to their blockbusting success as Alter Ego.

Over the ensuing years the reputation of The Primitive Painter album has only grown, with second hand copies (only 500 vinyl were pressed) changing hands for exorbitant amounts on Discogs, leading us to this opportune moment of a richly deserved ‘first’ release on the label for which the project was started, Apollo / R&S.

“This really brings us full circle,” says Jörn. “Apollo / R&S meant and means so much to us as artists and so it was bittersweet to not have the official release - to put that right all these years later feels really good.”

This new vinyl release comes in re-created original gatefold artwork and includes all original 10 tracks (Stoned Soul Picnic was previously on the CD only).

A once shocking 1962 LP of love songs…by men, for men. A long lost treasure featuring the cool & sophisticated vocals of Gene Howard and a cast of prime studio jazz musicians, performing a set of standards sung to a male suitor. Ahead of its time in every way. Decades ago, JD Doyle, renowned LGBT music historian and archivist, happened upon a copy of Love Is A Drag. Doyle would often play cuts from it on his radio show, Queer Music Heritage. He remained intrigued by the lack of either artist or producer credited on the album. A vague line of jacket text ambiguously announced, “For Adult Listeners Only - Sultry Stylings by a Most Unusual Vocalist.” And, the facts behind the album would have most likely remained unclear if it were not for one Murray Garrett Out of the blue, Murray Garrett contacted JD Doyle and wanted to talk about the album. According to Garrett, through his photography career, he had forged a friendship and partnership with prolific big band vocalist, Gene Howard. The two worked together on projects, eventually teaming with Jack Ames, founder of Edison International Records. When queried for ideas for a potential Edison International release, Garrett recalled a performance he had once seen in Greenwich Village - a performance of a man singing love songs to another man, in serious fashion, i.e., not at all campy or overly-dramatic. Gene Howard (straight and happily married!) agreed to sing on the record, accompanied by a who’s-who of Los Angeles A-list session men. Upon release, the record sold well in Hollywood, with Frank Sinatra, Liberace, and Bob Hope among its biggest advocates.

2025 Repress

Veyl is proud to welcome back to the label one of the most essential and multidimensional producers today, Filmmaker. To date, the Colombian artist has delivered a plethora of revered releases from his breakout, The Love Market (2019), to his previous album on Veyl, Fictional Portrayals (2022). He consistently traverses genres from postpunk, EBM, synth wave and beyond to create a unique identity still firmly rooted in film culture. Now he returns with perhaps his most robust and powerful offering, Hollywood
Cult.

Comprised of 13 tracks, the album sees the producer elevate his sound to new levels, conjuring a world of haunting atmospheres and devious directions that take the listener through a journey of unparalleled proportions. Kicking off the album is the ritual-like
'Secrecy', which builds tension before exploding into a synth-driven race against time and introduces us to the world that lies ahead. 'Holy Wood' injects a heavy dose of body music for an infectious piece that bleeds perfectly in to the slow burning nostalgia of 'Generational Trauma'. Next, 'Western Malice' picks the pace back up with its evil energy that feels fit for the best horror scenes before 'Shocking Therapy' enters the picture with an exhilarating electro feel.


Now in the depths of the journey, 'Vessels Wine' continues the saga with a high intensity work that gives way to the stirring emotions of 'Peacekeeper Ripper' and the raw, blood lust of 'Criminal Rite'. Now entering the final phases, 'Spiritual Harvest' cleanses the palate before 'Elite Dungeons' comes crashing in with a lo-fi feel that puts you deep underground. 'Two Sets of Rules' charges back with twisted lines before 'No Fetish Without Evil' unveils post-punk strings that puts you in a trance before 'Hanging Finale' closes the release u ltimately fading out into the abyss. Repeat listens will be necessary and the whole album feels like a soundtrack to a dark new world that is perfectly fitting for any Hollywood Cult.

The sounds, songs, and passages within Power Sucker are the very reason that Young Widows are still a band after an 11-year creative pause; they remain masters at making music with equal parts sonic and emotional weight. Young Widows have inspired scores of underground artists across the globe with their unique collage of noise-rock, hardcore, and post-punk and pioneering presentation. The Young Widows sound - or more accurately, the Young Widows feel - is in full battering ram motion on their fifth studio album. The heaviness of Power Sucker isn't mysterious. The Louisville, Kentucky power trio play their individual parts with such recognizable precision and style that once entwined together each completed piece becomes an integral part of the puzzle. The sizzling guitars, growling bass, and lock-tight drums rip through the pavement that Young Widows had previously laid to allow the most forward-moving vocal arrangements of their now two-decade career. Historical accomplishments aside, Power Sucker has the shock and wonder of a new band's debut album. After all, this is the regrouping of three passionate lifers once again sharing their undying love for the art of sound. No one and no thing can take those powers away.

The sounds, songs, and passages within Power Sucker are the very reason that Young Widows are still a band after an 11-year creative pause; they remain masters at making music with equal parts sonic and emotional weight. Young Widows have inspired scores of underground artists across the globe with their unique collage of noise-rock, hardcore, and post-punk and pioneering presentation. The Young Widows sound - or more accurately, the Young Widows feel - is in full battering ram motion on their fifth studio album. The heaviness of Power Sucker isn't mysterious. The Louisville, Kentucky power trio play their individual parts with such recognizable precision and style that once entwined together each completed piece becomes an integral part of the puzzle. The sizzling guitars, growling bass, and lock-tight drums rip through the pavement that Young Widows had previously laid to allow the most forward-moving vocal arrangements of their now two-decade career. Historical accomplishments aside, Power Sucker has the shock and wonder of a new band's debut album. After all, this is the regrouping of three passionate lifers once again sharing their undying love for the art of sound. No one and no thing can take those powers away.

Re-United Records is delighted to present their second release “Shock” : a knacky, stylish statement brought by the collaboration between Re-United Artists Paolo Driver and Alberto Bof. Recommended for deeply rooted Electronica/Modern balance seekers. Includes a remix by Niki B.

HotWax are a band set on experiencing life at its most intense. In the past two years, the Hastings-via-Brighton trio – comprising Tallulah Sim-Savage (vocals/guitar), Lola Sam (bass) and Alfie Sayers (drums) – have toured the world over, clocking up over 150 dates, including shows with Royal Blood and Frank Carter, and major festival appearances at Reading & Leeds and All Points East. Out of all this comes debut album Hot Shock (due March 7 via Marathon Artists), a record of adrenaline-jolted anthems about abandoning fear and leaping boldly towards the future.

HotWax worked with an all-female production team at the prestigious RAK studios, Catherine Marks (Boygenius, Wolf Alice) and Steph Marziano (Hayley Williams, Let’s Eat Grandma), as well as additional recording with Stella Mozgawa of Warpaint in Joshua Tree, California.

These songs were made to be played to a crowd, loud and with abandon. But there’s also a beating pulse of vulnerability underscoring the album. It’s an honest, moving sentiment sure to propel HotWax towards becoming the UK’s next big crossover rock act – and beyond.

"Britain’s most thrilling and fiercely confident new rockers” - NME “they’re a total inspiration – wicked songwriting, stunning stage presence, and a sheer, raw, couldn’t-give-a-flying attitude that punches you to the gut.” - Clash

A valentine for black hearts! An electric array of magic sounds! The shock return of a missing legend! The surprise formation of HOUSE Of ALL by five former members of The Fall was bound to provide some pleasant surprises, not the least of which being the creation of an identity distinct from that of any specific Fall line-up, and here the band offer an steep evolution of sound of their two previous albums . . . darker, more elliptic and can we say it? A more mystical sum of talents than most groups ever manage. They've kept their open door policy to former members of The Fall and expanded it. Phil Lewis, who's stepped in live for Pete Greenway, makes his studio debut, and the long-lost Karl Burns has emerged from his mystery lair to add a third set of drums to the line-up . . . besting The Glitter Band by 50%! How this will work live has yet to be determined, but the band has already scheduled dates in Spring, 2025. House Of All Souls is somewhat more psychedelic than its predecessors, and despite seven players, each with his own particular style, the songs and production are shockingly cohesive. From the breakneck pace of first tune, Tempest And Storm to the superb album closer, Born At Dawn And Dead At Sunset, there's quite a lot to unpack - it's an album-lover's album, each track magnificent in its own way and impossible for us to pick a fave from the lot of 'em. Plenty has been written about The Fall, whose 50th birthday is just a few years off, but rare is the group with an equally perverse and persuasive influence in that period. When HOUSE Of ALL debuted, Martin Bramah remarked on it being "part of the Fall family continuum" - a matter of actual fact, given the pedigree of its members. With this, HOUSE Of ALL's third full-length album, it's proven fact that the bright lights of those multiple talents behind the band have yet to dim.

Muireann Bradley is a young blues, ragtime, roots and folk guitarist and singer based in Ballybofey in County Donegal Ireland. “This is my first album. Most of these tunes were originally recorded by the great blues men and women who were making records from the 1920s and 1930s right up in some cases to the early 1970s. I have also found inspiration for the renditions recorded here in the playing of some of the musicians who began recording this music in the 1960s and later, and who in some cases learned at the feet of the greats. Many of these guitarists played pivotal roles in the 1960s blues revival and subsequent “rediscovery” of many of the greats of country blues. I grew up steeped in these old blues in the hills overlooking the valley of the River Finn just outside the town of Ballybofey in County Donegal. My father would play this music constantly at home and wherever we went in the car and talk about it endlessly whether anyone was listening or not, telling stories about the lives of these musicians as if they were legend, mythology or the evening news. My father could of course play all this stuff on guitar, I remember watching him when I was very young and thinking “I want to be able to do that”. When I was nine he agreed to teach me and bought me my first little travel guitar. I worked hard to learn how to play but as time wore on I seemed to have less and less time to practice as I became more and more invested in the combat sports I was regularly training and competing in. Then in March 2020 the first Covid lockdowns happened and all contact sports were shut down. I was lost for a while but soon found my way back to the guitar. I was now listening, playing and practicing with a new intensity and focus. In a very serious moment, I wrote out a list of tunes I was going to learn. The first tune on that list was Blind Blake’s “Police Dog Blues”. I’m not sure now how long it took to get that arrangement together but when it was ready we videoed me performing it and posted it on YouTube. It ended up getting a lot of attention, I remember my parents being quite shocked and soon after that Josh Rosenthal got in touch… and here we are! Each individual track on this album was recorded live in the studio and represents one entire take with me singing and backing myself up on guitar simultaneously. Most are either first or second takes. Nothing has been added or taken away, no overdubs or modern recording tricks of any kind have been used at all so at least in some respects this album has been recorded in the same way as those classics of the 1920s and 1930s

"Get nostalgic with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Back from the Sewers Vinyl Soundtrack, the fifth release in a series of shellacious Turtles tunes.

Stop Shredder From Zapping the World Famous Sewer Stars Into Pet Store Pebble Pushers! Shredder's got his criminal mind back in the gutter and has joined forces with fellow hero-hater Krang to pulverize the pizza freaks once and for all. They've shanghaied newswoman of the nineties April O'Neil as a decoy, so the boys from below must rescue her, without losing their shells.

High Roller Records, violet vinyl, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, bonus CD, ltd 200

High Roller Records, violet vinyl, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, bonus CD, ltd 200

Originally released on February 17, 2015, Aaron Watson’s The Underdog made music history by being the the first independently distributed and promoted album from a solo male artist to debut at #1 on Billboard's Top Country Albums chart. Though it was Aaron’s twelfth album, The Underdog’s success sent shockwaves though Nashville, and the music world as a whole, launching hits and fan favorites “Freight Train,” “That Look,” “Getaway Truck,” “Bluebonnets” and the Texas independent music anthem “Fencepost”. Produced by Keith Stegall and Aaron, The Underdog took Aaron’s career to new heights and helped re-shape the country music landscape. It was a pivotal shot in the arm for DIY / independent country artists around the globe.
NOW... available commercially for the first time on vinyl, this stunning two record 10th Anniversary set
features the original 14 songs/recordings as they were meant to be be heard - with that warm analogue vinyl sound. As an added bonus, Side D features a custom etching of the album cover and the trailblazing and career defining lyric “I’d rather be an old fence post in Texas” (than the king of Tennessee) from the album’s closing sing along song “Fencepost”. From the humble honky-tonks of Texas to multiple sold-out tours around the world. Rolling Stone calls Aaron "Texas country's reigning indie underdog”. Aaron Watson is here to stay and is currently writing and recording a forty song album, aptly titled Horse Named Texas, which is slated for release in early 2026.

Red Marbled Vinyl. Play Dirty is the fourth studio album by British heavy metal band Girlschool released in 1983 and produced by Noddy Holder and Jim Lea from the hard rock band Slade. It has very polished sound, filled with keyboards, choruses andmelodies, containing covers of the Slade songs ,High & Dry" and ,Burning in the Heat" and of T.Rex's ,20th Century Boy". Drummer Denise Dufort rated the album as her favourite of all the band`s career saying it had a more mature sound to it and comparing it to Def Leppard. Girlschool are thelongest-running all-female rock band, still active after more than 40 years. During their career they travelled the world, playing in many rock and metal festivals and co-headlining or supporting important heavy metal bands. They maintain a worldwide cult following, and are an inspiration for many female rock musicians.

Red Vinyl. Play Dirty is the fourth studio album by British heavy metal band Girlschool released in 1983 and produced by Noddy Holder and Jim Lea from the hard rock band Slade. It has very polished sound, filled with keyboards, choruses andmelodies, containing covers of the Slade songs ,High & Dry" and ,Burning in the Heat" and of T.Rex's ,20th Century Boy". Drummer Denise Dufort rated the album as her favourite of all the band`s career saying it had a more mature sound to it and comparing it to Def Leppard. Girlschool are thelongest-running all-female rock band, still active after more than 40 years. During their career they travelled the world, playing in many rock and metal festivals and co-headlining or supporting important heavy metal bands. They maintain a worldwide cult following, and are an inspiration for many female rock musicians.

High Roller Records, reissue 2025, 180g black vinyl, ltd 500, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, lyric sheet, poster, specially mastered for vinyl by Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony

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.

Ginnels never let up. Though it has been, staggeringly, eight long years since the last irresistible jangle pop transmission under the Ginnels moniker, nothing much has changed in Mark Chester's approach when it comes to the practice of music making, even if much everything else for Chester has seen considerable flux – he's now a father of two, and most shockingly of all for an indie popster of his ilk, gainfully employed. "It definitely started the same way all Ginnels stuff starts," Chester explains, "which is just me looking through five years of phone demos and going 'that's a decent song' and 'that's a decent song', and if you keep that up then you have a full album."

The man himself might be coyly committed to making his process sound as pedestrian as possible, but from the moment the delicate chiming introduction of album opener 'The Body Was Gone' goes widescreen – revealing an expanded sonic palette richer in timbre and exponentially wider in scope than anything Chester has let out into the world thus far – it is apparent that "The Picturesque" is poised to be less than parochial in its sonic purview.

From here, "The Picturesque" plays like a gauzy road trip Super 8 footage cutting between scenes of sunset at Monument Valley and B-roll from around middle-Ireland, entirely soundtracked by some enchanted mixtape of heretofore unheard B sides from REM, XTC and The Go-Betweens, unexpected guest appearances from the surprisingly together-sounding ghost of Johnny Thunders and snippets from your coolest friends' unreleased instrumental experiments. All liberally rippled with Chester's unique ear for melody and appetite for the unexpected when it comes to crafting guitar parts. And this, by design, feels like a Guitar Record, above all else.

For all its effortlessly sticky lyrical and melodic twists, "The Picturesque" separates itself within the mighty Ginnels catalogue in both the dexterity in playing and diversity in tone on show across these 12 tracks. And 12, of course as we know, being the optimum number of tracks for any LP to have, so bonus points for that too.

Limited edition classic black vinyl mini-album of cathartic slowcore by The Declining Winter, the new vehicle of Richard Adams, formerly of Domino Records post-rockers, Hood. The next release on the acclaimed boutique English independent label, Second Language Music, will be ‘Last April,’ the new mini-album by The Declining Winter, a raw, deeply emotional monument of loss, grief and heartbreak that treads in the footsteps of Red House Painters’ ‘Down Colorful Hill,’ Low’s ‘I Could Live In Hope’ and Songs: Ohia’s ‘Didn’t It Rain.’ This is not a heart-on-your-sleeve record. It does away with the sleeve and goes straight for carving a heart on the arm. Recordings which emerged out of a period of shock, grief and trauma, these six songs were all written on the same night and form a stately tribute to a loved one lost. The Declining Winter strip things back to just Richard Adams’ plaintive voice and acoustic guitar, alongside the beautiful, irrefutably melancholy string arrangements/playing of Sarah Kemp (Brave Timbers). There’s been no attempt to plane off any rough edges – here and there, the creak of a chair, a guitar note missed, a voice almost cracking with emotion – these recordings are like cathartic scrawls in a diary. Only this one has been left out for anyone to read. As with his previous band, Hood, Adams has a way of evoking a particularly pastoral, English melancholy, of lonely morning hikes in inclement weathers, of rain on slate in the West Yorkshire streets where he was raised and still lives.

Pressed at Quality Record Pressings. Tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket by Stoughton Printing

Donny Hathaway's second album, released in April 1971, can be considered the antithesis of a "sophomore slump." The collection of cover songs found the artist not only spotlighting his talent, but his tastes. Among the songs he chose to cover on the LP was Leon Russell's "A Song for You," taken from Russell's debut album which was barely a year old at the time. Hathaway's impassioned version is so strong that many listeners are still shocked to discover that the song is indeed a cover.

With songs by Billy Preston ("Little Girl"), Mac Davis ("I Believe in Music") and Van McCoy (Gladys Knight and the Pips' 1964 hit, "Giving Up"), the record didn't exactly ignite the charts, peaking at No. 73 for the week of July 24, 1971 (the No. 1 album in America that week: Carole King's Tapestry). Hathaway's second LP is so much more than its chart performance.

Atlantic producer Jerry Wexler took over most of the production duties, with Hathaway producing one track, the self-penned "Take a Love Song." One of just three solo studio albums Hathaway recorded before his tragic death in 1979, Donny Hathaway is a truly timeless classic that will never go out of style.

Pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in a tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket by Stoughton Printing.

Pressed at Quality Record Pressings. Tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket by Stoughton Printing

Donny Hathaway's second album, released in April 1971, can be considered the antithesis of a "sophomore slump." The collection of cover songs found the artist not only spotlighting his talent, but his tastes. Among the songs he chose to cover on the LP was Leon Russell's "A Song for You," taken from Russell's debut album which was barely a year old at the time. Hathaway's impassioned version is so strong that many listeners are still shocked to discover that the song is indeed a cover.

With songs by Billy Preston ("Little Girl"), Mac Davis ("I Believe in Music") and Van McCoy (Gladys Knight and the Pips' 1964 hit, "Giving Up"), the record didn't exactly ignite the charts, peaking at No. 73 for the week of July 24, 1971 (the No. 1 album in America that week: Carole King's Tapestry). Hathaway's second LP is so much more than its chart performance.

Atlantic producer Jerry Wexler took over most of the production duties, with Hathaway producing one track, the self-penned "Take a Love Song." One of just three solo studio albums Hathaway recorded before his tragic death in 1979, Donny Hathaway is a truly timeless classic that will never go out of style.

Pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in a tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket by Stoughton Printing.

Impex has always had a special place in their hearts for Shoji Yokouchi’s Greensleeves. Standards, original tunes, and traditional pieces (like the title track), are interpreted in unexpectedly funky, soulful ways. The master guitarist is given immeasurable support by organist Yuri Tashiro. Her playing is alternately moody and spry, fiery and funky. Impex’s vinyl reissue preserves the original’s clear, exacting sound (check out the bass on Tashiro’s organ!) while improving surface noise and presentation. This rare gem of Tee Fujii’s repertoire is yet another entertaining listen for Three Blind Mice fans from their friends at Impex Records!



"I cannot understand how Chris Bellman got 100% of the dynamics, power, subterranean deep powerful bass, delicate guitar, bass riffs, and drums all on a 33 RPM release without the instruments colliding into one another. I am shocked by the RTI pressing of such utter quiet and explosive punch... harmonics and layered realistic textures lived in the room as the needle found its groove. Imaging is pin-point stable and precise, and dynamics never overload."

"If this is not the ultimate audiophile demonstration LP released this year, then none will be released. I dare you to stop listening to this LP once the first cut has commenced! With mostly standards jazzed up for the brilliant musicians to love to play, I was constantly tapping my toes and reminiscing on when I first heard a certain melody. What great fun!"

" ...Packaged by Impex in slick classy gloss and full color, Greensleeves is a high-quality production for a top jazz collection. Prediction: this release will triple in price! For those smart enough to buy multiple copies and put extras away, a bonus awaits them! This is the best audiophile system demonstration LP I have heard in ages, and a must-own. Thank you Impex! Greensleeves receives my highest BUY recommendation!" - Robert H. Levi

Big'n was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018,Big'n recorded and releaseda new EP, Knife of Sin,via Computer Students. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. Big'n is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon - their first in 28 years - released via Computer Student. It"sall still here as presentand disciplined as ever - BrianE's powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fred's metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Todd's clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akins' yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, Big'n were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soons' title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions - and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

Repress!

Straight from the northwest 1980, Freeway was the band you could catch any weekend playing gigs in Portland and Seattle.. Their coveted AOR boogie debut 7" on Nebula Circle "Get The Feelin" is what originally started this project with PPU records, Mark J (keyboardist/songwriter/vocalist) had some original copies in the safe deposit box.. Nebula Circle was a local Oregon label that released Shock and Nu Shooz's first recordings! Freeway had another vinyl LP debut in the 80s, but it only made limited local waves, impossible to find today, so Mark J went back in the studio and pulled all these recordings from the archives, and luckily found other solo projects featured on this LP.

Repress!

PPU back at what they do best, with more unreleased fire from Illinois producer Electro Wayne. People kept asking where's the rest of the Circuit Shock Productions?? So here's the next installment of demos selected by Electro Wayne and you, his fans!

Preceded by some of Bolan’s most fondly-remembered singles, “Children Of The Revolution”, “Solid Gold Easy Action” and the classic “20th Century Boy”, 1973’s Tanx was the first T. Rex album to make full use of the ever-expanding range of studio gadgets. And while the album represented a new musical departure, several tracks maintained a direct link to the old sound.

The album reached number 4 in the UK album charts and has gone on to influence numerous musicians from Suede to Depeche Mode’s Martin Gore. This edition includes the complete album remastered by producer Tony Visconti and Ted Jensen.

The intrepid composer and field recordist Jacob Kirkegaard is no stranger to perilous and hostile regions of the world. His 4 Rooms invoked the radioactive decay through the amplification of architectural resonance in Chernobyl, Ukraine; and he has ventured to the arctic environments of Greenland on a number of occasions to document that barren, icy territory. His recurrent use of shadow and mystery through his work both as metaphor and as extended sonic technique reflects the complex, existential conditions that cross-contaminate what we consider civilization and what we consider wilderness. Waste disposal, firearms, the decomposition of dead bodies, the eerie stillness of morgues. These have also been the source material in Kirkegaard's formidable work.

With Snowblind, Kirkegaard turns to history, and a poetic, failed attempt for a team of Swedish explorers to reach the North Pole by balloon in the late 19th Century. Perhaps driven by blind adventurism, perhaps consumed by his own delusions, S.A. Andrée launched this ill-fated flight in July 1897, registering only two days in the air before crashing into the ice and ultimately failing to navigate the frigid waters and ice floes. Yet documentation of their expedition - photographic, scientific, and diaristic - survived, to be discovered some thirty years after their deaths.

"I wanted to created a cold and hostile album, where there is no escape, no warmth and no happy ending," as Kirkegaard explains about Snowblind. "Yet, I wanted to leave out any immediate drama. It is the creeping shock, the icy feeling from realizing what has been lost and that there's no escape."

Yes, Snowblind is a very bleak album, but one that eschews the isolationist, long-form drone of conceptually similar works by Thomas Köner, Lustmord, Werkbund, and Lull with interconnected constellations of cryptic tone, thrumming reverberation, arctic bluster, and a plethora of harrowing sonic proclamations.

14 songs deep and proudly devoid of gimmicks or distractions, Slaughter On First Avenue is a riveting and raw account of Uncle Acid in full flight. From early classics like I'll Cut You Down and Death's Door (both from Blood Lust), to more recent works of lysergic aggro like Shockwave City (from Wasteland) and sinister epic Slow Death (from The Night Creeper), this amalgamation of two fiery and unforgettable live shows has a mesmerising momentum all of its own. A throwback to the days when live albums were magical things, rather than cynical stopgaps, Slaughter On First Avenue is a jolting dose of dark electricity and psychedelic terror. Swollen with the greatest of riffs and performed with grit, power and haughty disdain, it loudly confirms that Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats have the raw, fuzzed-out power to drag everybody into their bewildering, bewitched vortex of doom. A dazzling, devilish squall to mark the beginning of a new chapter, Slaughter On First Avenue also clears the decks for this band's next malevolent move. Don't say we didn't warn you. "Yes, There will be another record which will hopefully appear at some point without warning or explanation," Kevin Starrs avows. "It will be completely different to anything else we've done. You can think of it as a late-night detour. Its appeal will be extremely limited but that's OK... 'When you're slapped, you'll take it and like it!'".

Ride On My Way is another great Michael chenker album with the best live and studio recordings, feat. Hanging On / Shoot Shoot / Doctor Doctor / Lights Out and many more. Strictly limited picture vinyl. 'Best of Michael Schenker album, special guests: Gary Barden, Chris Glen, Wayne Findlay, Chris Slade. Strictly limited picture vinyl record. 'Rock Shock' is the title of this new best of - album by the award-winning, legendary guitarist Michael Schenker. The album features classic rock guitar-driven songs that highlight Schenker's distinctive and dynamic guitar playing.

Ride On My Way is another great Michael chenker album with the best live and studio recordings, feat. Hanging On / Shoot Shoot / Doctor Doctor / Lights Out and many more. Strictly limited picture vinyl. 'Best of Michael Schenker album, special guests: Gary Barden, Chris Glen, Wayne Findlay, Chris Slade. Strictly limited picture vinyl record. 'Rock Shock' is the title of this new best of - album by the award-winning, legendary guitarist Michael Schenker. The album features classic rock guitar-driven songs that highlight Schenker's distinctive and dynamic guitar playing.