Suche:trenchant

We’re teaming up with ELUCID and Fat Possum for a limited edition of 300 copies of a Rush Hour black ice coloured edition.

E L U C I D, one half of the illustrious duo Armand Hammer, is here with the full-length follow-up to 'I Told Bessie'. Further experiments in the sonic, expanding on the 'live' side of music paired with the embracing of chaos. Something you haven't heard, or not so for a very long time. E L U C I D is here to reveal the bleakness of reality.



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''There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.''
James Baldwin

A raw, crackling urgency runs through rapper-producer ELUCID’s new album REVELATOR like an underground power line. There is no space here for sepia-toned reminiscences or indulgent self-mythologizing. Intellectual rabbit holes have been filled in with concrete and rebar ; there is nowhere to hide and no off ramp from the audio Autobahn that ELUCID has fashioned—a renegade Robert Moses with gold fronts, bulldozing the homes of the powerful and the complicit. REVELATOR brims with the energy of now, with a refusal to look away. Carpe diem in a murder one mask.

Born in Jamaica, Queens, ELUCID has been on the cutting edge of New York’s underground scene since the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he has defied both convention and expectation. He ran with Okayplayer darlings Tanya Morgan, but his own music eschewed their throwback charm for glitchy noise experiments and bass-swamped culture jamming. His 2016 debut studio project Save Yourself (re-released in a deluxe edition last year) announced him in earnest. But in recent years, his Armand Hammer releases with partner-in-crime billy woods have received significant attention and acclaim. Serving as a followup to his last solo album—2022’s comparatively balmy I Told Bessie—ELUCID hoped to “re-distinguish” himself with REVELATOR, setting himself apart amidst the increasing attention around the music he and his friends are making together.

For ELUCID, this meant setting bold new challenges for himself. One of these was diving further into live instrumentation than ever before—”getting my Quincy Jones on,” as he puts it. The testing ground for this approach was Armand Hammer’s most recent project, 2023’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips’ Möbius strip soundscapes, warmed with instrumental flourishes and skin-shedding beat progressions. With REVELATOR, though, ELUCID strove to create an atmosphere of chaos, embracing experimental electronics and atonal sample bursts. He worked on much of the album with co-producer Jon Nellen, who comes from a background in avant-garde and Indian classical music. “I wanted to get as freaky as I could at this moment. I wanted people to hear things, maybe for the first time, or in a way they haven’t for a long while,” the rapper explains.

ELUCID arrived at the studio with a collection of noise sources: non-referential samples, glitches and noises. Together he, Nellen, and others created forms out of them and, as ELUCID recalls, “just started playing drums with it.” Their fried, distorted sound was directly inspired by Miles Davis at his most uncompromising—specifically, the tone-clustering funk track “Rated X” from his 1974 double LP Get Up With It. At times, the pairing of rap with avant-fusion sounds also brings Emergency! from The Tony Williams Lifetime to mind, perhaps in an alternate timeline where the late drummer was listening to Ice Cube’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted.

“The World is Dog,” REVELATOR’s lead single, functions as the album’s aesthetic thesis statement. Like the Davis track, the textures are punishing, the tonality is in free-fall, and the driving breakbeat of a groove cuts in and out unceremoniously. Avant-jazz bassist Luke Stewart, who appears throughout the record, holds the whole thing together just long enough for ELUCID to tightwalk over the beat. This tension is exactly where REVELATOR sets itself apart; in a time of drumless loops, and safe soul samples, this is a high-wire act with no safety net. Similarly, the song announces the themes of the album within just a few phrases, evoking the way societies accept and adjust to new levels of debasement and brutality while suffocating under the weight of history: “Can’t clock the kill, all a mystery/Forced past will eating everyone eventually/The world is dog.”

Many of the songs on REVELATOR grapple obliquely with dissolution and disenfranchisement in America and across the world—the grim realities of our domestic sociopolitical climate and our involvement in foreign conflicts. “Much of my artistic and political sensibility comes from the Black arts movement here in New York,” ELUCID explains. “Recognizing the interconnected global struggles against oppression, artists and thinkers created works and actions in solidarity with freedom movements in South Africa and Palestine.” ELUCID cites intellectuals like Amiri Baraka, Kwame Nkrumah, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, and Nikki Giovanni among his heroes. (One track on the album is specifically inspired by Lorde’s work, “SKP,” citing the scholar’s paper “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic As Power.”) Songs like REVELATOR’s insistent closer “ZIGZAGZIG,” find ELUCID applying up-to-the-minute messaging, making explicit reference to the conflict in Gaza: “Feed a war machine…from river to sea, in lieu of peace.”

Despite ELUCID’s preference for cacophonous system overload here, the rapper also provides moments of respite. Recorded at The Alchemist’s Los Angeles studio, the laid-back, wheezing “INSTANT TRANSFER” is a collaboration with billy woods, which crystallizes their shared sense of creative determination. “With much momentum behind us and even more on the horizon, I knew a purpose, and that every step was ordered to that purpose,” ELUCID said of the experience. Meanwhile, the jittery “HUSHPUPPIES” is a playful anomaly on the track list, providing a snapshot of ELUCID watching his grandparents in the kitchen while preparing for Friday night fish fry dinners.

“Love still rules over on this side,” ELUCID says. ”I’m raising a family. We are making meaning and finding joy in the midst of all the fucked up-ness of everything around us because the alternative is cowardice and slow death. We remain rooted. We celebrate our people and our wins. Struggle is necessary.”

“IKEBANA” is one of ELUCID’s strongest statements of purpose on the record, blending the record’s heaviest themes with its most hopeful sentiments. supported by a shoutalong refrain and an urgent prog-funk groove. Breaking away from images of dissolution and crumbling societal systems that populate REVELATOR, ELUCID notes that the only way to navigate life’s bleakest landscapes is to cling to love and believe in those around you—to look forward toward something better that may or may not be possible. For the rapper, one of the album’s most trenchant lines comes during a centerpiece of a beat drop: “Being alive/I must look up.”

“The lyric ‘being alive I must look up’ is important especially in the context of this album. Much of the album imagery is harsh and reflects the actual doom some of us experience. But still I/we exist,” ELUCID explains.

Every artist is, in one way or another, the product of their time, bound by life’s leaden gravity to operate within the space of that which is already known. But there are some who are able to shake free of these ties, to shape the culture as it unfolds, to make the present their own.
Revelation, as a concept, points to the scales falling from people’s eyes—something that has been hiding in plain sight becoming clear. “The revelator relates to things that have been talked about, things that have been forecasted,” ELUCID adds. “And now they’re really here, and everyone sees it. And there’s no escaping.” REVELATOR plays out with the unmitigated power of those storms, laying waste to any genre conventions in pursuit of a certain physicality. Here, ELUCID develops a wholly distinctive musical language to explore our fractured modernity.

REVELATOR's packaging was designed by longtime Armand Hammer / Backwoodz art director, Alexander Richter.

All those creatures, standing there, making time. Fury eyes, golden dust on artificial fog. Dancing on glass, repetitive poems, looping long after the last loop looped away. Oriental acid, frenzied samples, low hanging film noir suspense. This is DALO. Or not. She is many. Dry maniac downbeat is her craft. Or dark-ish pop-not-pop. There is dub, trance, techno, too. She is known for releases on labels like ESP Institute, WARNING, or Tresor. She is part of bands like Init. She played them all, those clubs, that matter, and those that matter more. Live. Alone. As an artist. With a band. Here she comes with her first album. On the R.i.O. sphere. Her homebase. A trusted zone for experimentation. She brings “Duster”. Seven tunes twisted in different dreams. Fast, slow, veiled, enchanted, haunting trenchant. She sings. These songs. To dance. For a different, stripped-back trance. DALO. Her record longs for a stage. Exporting grace, face to face. A work like a mirror. Hypnotizing. A psychedelic portrait of a performer. Nuanced industrial veils ceremonial journey music. Claps, Jungle. Desolate vocal snippets. A whirlwind of words. All those chords, hanging there, kick drum time. Fury eyes, golden horns amid acid fog. Dancing on glass, cyclic synth-lines. DALO. Duster. A-round-and-a-around. Circulating the ritual.

UK techno producer Blawan and Italian hardware aficionados The Analogue Cops have reunited as Parassela for a corporate culture-skewering new EP, HFFKEM (Hedge Fund Festivals Kill Electronic Music).

The four-track project will be released next month by Berlin-based label Overdraw, who describe the release as 'an infuriated conglomerate of liquefied analogue leads, rotten oppressive drums and trenchant FM drubbings'.

‘The Oakland band’s wide-ranging debut is a whirlwind of biting critique, nervy post-punk guitars, and absurdist humor. Rarely does a first record speak with such a trenchant voice.’ 7.5 PITCHFORK
‘Post-punk lovers have a new act to follow" - PASTE
Fake Fruit’s visceral indie rock operates so firmly in the present that it’s transportive and unmooring. The Oakland trio’s songs careen with volatile energy and lead singer Ham D’Amato’s lyrics are enveloped with acerbic humor and resonant perceptiveness. Though their new LP Mucho Mistrust is a sly reference to a beloved Blondie lyric, the title encapsulates both the anxieties of daily life, a bloodless music industry, and global capitalism as well as the clear-eyed skepticism needed to rebel against it. Across 12 propulsively unpredictable tracks, the album is both their most collaborative and most immediate yet.
Following the 2021 release of Fake Fruit’s self-titled debut LP, the band’s personal lives hit a turbulent and transformational period. “There were big life changes and I was so close to boiling over,” says D’Amato. “I left a bad relationship, entered a more stable and loving one, got diagnosed with alopecia, and I'm turning 30 soon too.” This personal upheaval was channeled into the explosive lead single “Mucho Mistrust.” The track is simultaneously disorienting and direct, with clanging guitars from Alex Post, off-kilter drums from Miles MacDiarmid, and D’Amato snarling, “How you gonna blame me / when you could’ve done something about it / it’s not right / How you gonna marinate me / in shitty things overnight.” She explains, “This song was a snapshot of how I got through a difficult year.”
Recorded live at the Bay Area’s Atomic Garden studio with producer Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Home Is Where), the band’s palpable ferocity shines throughout the record. Single “Más o Menos” is searing punk, with buzzsaw guitars and surging bass. It’s a clenched-fist song, one where D’Amato sings, “I decided to assert myself / After I lost all my sense of self.” Later in the track, D’Amato, who is Chicana, sings in Spanish, “¡No me hables! / ¡No escuchare!” While some of these songs deal in heartbreak, they are charged with way bigger themes. “There's also wanting to break up with capitalism and feeling upset about things politically,” says D’Amato.
For the band, these themes are personal. “I'm managing us while I'm in between changing diapers in my day job as a nanny,” says D’Amato. “Everyone in the band still believes in it and is motivated to keep wading through the bullshit.” On this album, they had no choice but to bet on themselves and each other. No track broadcasts their evolution better than the single “Cause of Death,” which morphs from a gorgeous sax-laden banger to something cathartic and anthemic.
As adventurous and righteous as Mucho Mistrust gets, there’s still an inviting core that never takes itself too seriously. From the ripping “Cause of Death,” which self-deprecatingly takes aim at anxiety and indecision, to the searing title track, Fake Fruit imbue their songs with humor and heart. “Our band is fun,” says D’Amato. “My number one coping mechanism for all of life is to joke about it. Even when the album talks about serious things, I am proud of how funny it can be.”

Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy, x2 LPs of long-form, lyrical, groove-based free improv by acclaimed guitarist & composer Jeff Parker's ETA IVtet. Recorded live at ETA (referencing David Foster Wallace), a bar in LA’s Highland Park neighborhood with just enough space in the back for Parker, drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, & alto saxophonist Josh Johnson to convene in extraordinarily depth-full & exploratory music making. Gleaned for the stoniest side-length cuts from 10+ hours of vivid two-track recordings made between 2019 & 2021 by Bryce Gonzales, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy is a darkly glowing séance of an album, brimming over with the hypnotic, the melodic, & patience & grace in its own beautiful strangeness. Room-tone, electric fields, environment, ceiling echo, live recording, Mondays, Los Angeles. Jeff Parker's first double album & first live album, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy belongs in the lineage of such canonical live double albums recorded on the West Coast as Lee Morgan’s Live at the Lighthouse, Miles Davis' In Person Friday & Saturday Night at the Blackhawk, San Francisco & Black Beauty, & John Coltrane's Live in Seattle.

While the IVtet sometimes plays standards &, including on this recording, original compositions, it is as previously stated largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term. The music is more free composition than free improvisation, more blending than discordant. It’s tensile, yet spacious & relaxed. Clearly all four musicians have spent significant time in the planetary system known as jazz, but relationships to other musics, across many scenes & eras —dub & Dilla, primary source psychedelia, ambient & drone— suffuse the proceedings. Listening to playbacks Parker remarked, humorously & not, “we sound like the Byrds” (to certain ears, the Clarence White-era Byrds, who really stretched it).

A fundamental of all great ensembles, whether basketball teams or bands, is the ability of each member to move fluidly & fluently in & out of lead & supportive roles. Building on the communicative pathways they’ve established in Parker’s -The New Breed- project, Parker & Johnson maintain a constant dialogue of lead & support. Their sampled & looped phrases move continuously thru the music, layered & alive, adding depth & texture & pattern, evoking birds in formation, sea creatures drifting below the photic zone. Or, the two musicians simulate those processes by entwining their terse, clear-lined playing in real-time. The stop/start flow of Bellerose, too, simulates the sampler, recalling drum parts in Parker’s beat-driven projects. Mostly Bellerose's animated phraseologies deliver the inimitable instantaneous feel of live creative drumming. The range of tonal colors he conjures from his extremely vintage battery of drums & shakers —as distinctive a sonic signature as we have in contemporary acoustic drumming— bring almost folkloric qualities to the aesthetic currency of the IVtet's language. A wonderful revelation in this band is the playing of Anna Butterss. The strength, judiciousness & humility with which she navigates the bass position both ground & lift upward the egalitarian group sound. As the IVtet's grooves flow & clip, loop & repeat, the ensemble elements reconfigure, a terrarium of musical cultivation growing under controlled variables, a tight experiment of harmony & intuition, deep focus & freedom.

For all its varied sonic personality, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy scans immediately & unmistakably as music coming from Jeff Parker‘s unique sound world. Generous in spirit, trenchant & disciplined in execution, Parker’s music has an earned respect for itself & for its place in history that transmutes through the musical event into the listener. Many moods & shapes of heart & mind will find utility & hope in a music that combines the autonomy & the community we collectively long to see take hold in our world, in substance & in staying power.

On the personal tip, this was always my favorite gig to hit, a lifeline of the eremite records Santa Barbara years. Mondays southbound on the 101, driving away from tasks & screens & illness, an hour later ordering a double tequila neat at the bar with the band three feet away, knowing i was in good hands, knowing it would be back around on another Monday. To encounter life at scales beyond the human body is the collective dance of music & the beholding of its beauty, together. – Michael Ehlers & Zac Brenner

Anyone that cut their metal teeth with The Big Four, and then dug a little deeper into the indie scene, should receive a major endorphin rush when they discover that speed and thrash masters RAZOR are about to release their first studio offering in 25 years. The album, Cycle of Contempt, is a direct, cutthroat record that pulls no punches and takes no prisoners. From the catchy, concise riffs and insistent beats of album opener “Flames of Hatred” to the double-barreled assault, muted power chord chugging and combative gang vocal of album closer “King Shit,” Cycle of Contempt is a trenchant reminder of a time when clubs around the world were packed with long-haired bands that played as fast as they could and mosh pits that spun and tumbled like clothes in a short-circuiting dryer. As energetic and exciting as Evil Invaders and as urgent and powerful as RAZOR’s 1989 speed-fest Violent Restitution, Cycle of Contempt showcases a band that never stopped spewing venom. “I tried to write songs that everybody could listen to and say, “Yeah, I know a guy who's done that to me or done this, or I know that situation. I can relate to that,” band founder Dave Carlo says. “And I didn’t want to make everything specifically about me because when you do that, you exclude people. I wanted to include everyone that’s ever felt pissed off about anything.” An unrelenting slab of old-school thrash that showcases RAZOR's encyclopedic knowledge of the past along with Carlo’s growth as a songwriter, player, and lyricist, Cycle of Contempt is here to show that RAZOR are as dominating as ever.

“Speight’s music takes the best elements of folk and pop music and puts them together to create a raw and infectious sound.” – The Telegraph“Enchanting debut (album).” – The Times“Gorgeous acoustic flecked hymns, trenchant rockers, off-the-cuff folk pieces, Tom Speight can draw his muse anywhere.” – CLASH“Few artists can make heartbreak feel like both a blast and a wretch.” – Atwood
Tom Speight has made the album that 2021 deserves. A celebration of living life to the max, Everything’s Waiting For You is a timely reminder to approach every day as an adventure, and an invitation to ride alongside the singer/songwriter as he travels the world wide-eyed. Recorded with producer Chris Bond in Devon and featuring contributions from regular collaborators Lydia Clowes and Turin Brakes’ Olly Knights, Everything’s Waiting For You is a bigger, bolder and poppier album, with sunny song titles, boisterous guitars, shimmering electronics and lashings of beautiful backing vocals are among the album’s calling cards.

An already distinguished and highly successful career officially opens a new chapter with the August 13 release of the new album My Name Is Suzie Ungerleider.

Bursting with her trademark evocative melodies and trenchant lyrics, it's the eighth solo studio album by the American-Canadian artist revered for such landmark records as Johnstown and Sleepy Little Sailor.

It's also her first since the artist formerly known as Oh Susanna announced that she would now record and perform under her birth name.

One thing‘s for sure: There aren‘t many bands with a history as long and eventful as Kreator‘s, who fascinatingly succeed in exploring new horizons while challenging and reinventing themselves time and again.That was perfectly illustrated by their latest record ‘Gods Of Violence’ in 2017. With this 14th studio album of their impressive career, the thrashers from Essen, Germany crafted a work of art of utmost vigor, drawing its unfailing power from the pounding heart of one of the greatest, most versatile metal bands of all time.

Mainman Mille Petrozza’s influences range from Hannah Arendt, Pink Floyd and Tocotronic to Slayer, even though he was born and bred in the metal scene. Nevertheless, he is and always has been open to inspiration from various sources, which is why his lyrics are by no means merely based on corny genre templates but offer trenchant observations of our time combined with a witty aside to long-standing cliches: One of the best songs on ‘Gods Of Violence’ is really called ‘Satan Is Real’.

Formed in 1982, Petrozza and ‘Ventor’ – the only two remaining founding members – have come a long way from playing in a small-scale student band. “In my history book, Kreator didn‘t really exist until 1985“, says Petrozza, laughing. “Although we had already started jamming together in `82, we only entered the stage two or three times up until `85. Back then, our set list consisted of five original tracks and five heavy metal cover songs, we went through several line-up changes and didn‘t really find ourselves until ‘Endless Pain’.Over the years, Kreator, the leaders of the German ‘Big Four’ of thrash, have sold more than two million albums worldwide and have played countless shows all around the globe. It is one of these shows that is captured on ‘London Apocalypticon’. Recorded in December 2018 at London’s legendary Roundhouse venue, headlining a bill with US hardcore pacesetters Hatebreed and Norwegian Black Metal legends Dimmu Borgir. Kreator’s explosive set was quite rightly heralded as “a demonstration of consummate musicianship and stagecraft” by Metal Hammer magazine.

It's A Funny Old World, And Yet Again, The Black Dog Have Provided The Soundtrack. Our Fast-approaching Dystopia Has Been Envisioned And Documented By The Band For Decades. Now, The Black Dog's Two New Albums, Post -truth And Black Daisy Wheel, Translate Their Growing Horror Into Some Of Their Most Accessible And Impactful Music, Translating Our Manufactured Reality Into High Energy Dancefloor Constructions On Post -truth, And Reflective Ambient Excursions On Black Daisy Wheel.

Long Familiar With The Tropes And Pitfalls Of Esoteric Undergrounds, In Both The Pre- And Post Internet Eras, The Black Dog Have Ventured Deep Into Contemporary Conspiratorial Cultures With A Trenchantly Critical Eye. In The 80s, Conspiracy Theories Were A Tonic For A Sceptical Mind, A Stimulant To Agile Thinking. Today, They Have Become The Stock In Trade Of Mainstream Political Influence. The Scene Has Morphed Into A Rabbit Hole Where Nothing Is 'really' Real, Everything Is A Hoax, And Everyone Is Out To Get You. The Mindset Is Beyond Paranoid, The Discourse So Far Post-fact That Only Opinion And Assumed Identity Matter. Arguing Against Proven Science Is A Part Of The Entry Criteria, And Wilful Pedantry Its Standard Currency. The Impact On Mental Health Is Corrosive: Fear, Uncertainty And Doubt Multiply And Replicate Until The Most Ridiculous Theories Are Invented To Explain The Most Basic Things: Tarmac, Banana Skins, Duvets. Auto-suggestion Is Rife, Where Willing Victims Drink Bleach (mms) At The Behest Of Youtube Videos, Flat-earthers Are Taken Seriously, And The Manufactured Fearful Believe They Are Being Gang-stalked For Finding Monsters On Pixelated Screens. The Distinction Between The Real World And The World Of An Auto-hoaxer Is So Blurred That Reality Melts Away; You're Only Ever One Personal Detail Away From Being Doxxed, At Which Point Reality Bites Back, Hard.

You Couldn't Make It Up, Even Though That Is Exactly What The Conspiratorial Fringe (now One Sharp Corner From The Mainstream) Always Do. The Fact That There Are Real People Involved In This Scene Creates A Real Sense Of Pathos And Anger Which Is Deeply Embedded In The Music On These Two Albums. As Soon As You Start Engaging With People In The So-called 'truth Movement', One Minute It's Painful, But The Next Can Be Genuinely Funny; These Are People Who Are Both On Edge And Upon The Edge Of A Larger Social And Political Reality That, For Worse And For (even) Worse, Defines Our Times. Hence These Two Very Different Albums. Black Daisy Wheel Is Reflective, Often Intense, Frequently Compassionate; While Post -truth Was Written While The Black Dog Was Fully Engaged With People Whose Paranoia Was In Full Swing.

Welcome To Our Disinformation.

Limited To 500 Copies - 180g

It's A Funny Old World, And Yet Again, The Black Dog Have Provided The Soundtrack. Our Fast-approaching Dystopia Has Been Envisioned And Documented By The Band For Decades. Now, The Black Dog's Two New Albums, Post -truth And Black Daisy Wheel, Translate Their Growing Horror Into Some Of Their Most Accessible And Impactful Music, Translating Our Manufactured Reality Into High Energy Dancefloor Constructions On Post -truth, And Reflective Ambient Excursions On Black Daisy Wheel. Long Familiar With The Tropes And Pitfalls Of Esoteric Undergrounds, In Both The Pre- And Post Internet Eras, The Black Dog Have Ventured Deep Into Contemporary Conspiratorial Cultures With A Trenchantly Critical Eye. In The 80s, Conspiracy Theories Were A Tonic For A Sceptical Mind, A Stimulant To Agile Thinking. Today, They Have Become The Stock In Trade Of Mainstream Political Influence. The Scene Has Morphed Into A Rabbit Hole Where Nothing Is 'really' Real, Everything Is A Hoax, And Everyone Is Out To Get You. The Mindset Is Beyond Paranoid, The Discourse So Far Post-fact That Only Opinion And Assumed Identity Matter. Arguing Against Proven Science Is A Part Of The Entry Criteria, And Wilful Pedantry Its Standard Currency. The Impact On Mental Health Is Corrosive: Fear, Uncertainty And Doubt Multiply And Replicate Until The Most Ridiculous Theories Are Invented To Explain The Most Basic Things: Tarmac, Banana Skins, Duvets. Auto-suggestion Is Rife, Where Willing Victims Drink Bleach (mms) At The Behest Of Youtube Videos, Flat-earthers Are Taken Seriously, And The Manufactured Fearful Believe They Are Being Gang-stalked For Finding Monsters On Pixelated Screens. The Distinction Between The Real World And The World Of An Auto-hoaxer Is So Blurred That Reality Melts Away; You're Only Ever One Personal Detail Away From Being Doxxed, At Which Point Reality Bites Back, Hard. You Couldn't Make It Up, Even Though That Is Exactly What The Conspiratorial Fringe (now One Sharp Corner From The Mainstream) Always Do. The Fact That There Are Real People Involved In This Scene Creates A Real Sense Of Pathos And Anger Which Is Deeply Embedded In The Music On These Two Albums. As Soon As You Start Engaging With People In The So-called 'truth Movement', One Minute It's Painful, But The Next Can Be Genuinely Funny; These Are People Who Are Both On Edge And Upon The Edge Of A Larger Social And Political Reality That, For Worse And For (even) Worse, Defines Our Times. Hence These Two Very Different Albums. Black Daisy Wheel Is Reflective, Often Intense, Frequently Compassionate; While Post -truth Was Written While The Black Dog Was Fully Engaged With People Whose Paranoia Was In Full Swing. Welcome To Our Disinformation.

Limited To 500 Copies - 180g

Super deluxe lo fi 7" grape-colored vinyl housed in DIY low-budget sleeve, + includes "I love my VCR Sticker"

WRWTFWW Records is thrilled to announce the release of the long anticipated, always delayed, 30-years-in-the-making PSYCHOS IN LOVE Original Soundtrack, available at last and for the first time ever in a super deluxe low fidelity _7" grape-colored vinyl edition, housed in a DIY no-budget sleeve, and loaded with extras, including words from film director Gorman Bechard, lyrics of the theme song, a promotional postcard with a picture of the cast, a poster of a woman attacked in a bathroom, and the infamous as-seen-in-the-movie "I LOVE MY VCR" bumper sticker!

Filled with sleazy funk, macabre synths, homemade electronic kitsch, anti-grape propaganda, and rewind-worthy dialogue excerpts, Psychos In Love is the ultimate lo-fi horror-romcom soundtrack adventure with a theme song so memorable you'll find yourself humming it every morning. In Gorman Bechard's words, "For the Psychos In Love theme I purposefully wrote what I hoped were the worst lyrics of all time, giving them to Carmine Capobianco with one note, 'use them to write the worst song of all time.'"

The movie Psychos In Love (1986) is a trenchant, laugh-out-loud indictment of slasher films, romantic comedies, and grapes (that's right, pal, grapes), a true genre-defying post-modern cult classic that will wind its way into your heart as its characters work _their way through vats of gore. Packed tight with sly homages to - and parodies of the work of such cinema legends as Alfred Hitchcock, Woody Allen, Roger Corman, Groucho Marx, and Gerard Damiano, Psychos In Love foreshadows the grand guignol culinary delights of Silence of the Lambs, served up with a healthy portion of wry wit and all-American t&a.