Search:who da fuck

The entity known as ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES, would like to express its excitement to be working with the Seattle, WA based BAND Sandrider, and enjoyed the previous relationship of Damm and Weisnewski in their former entity known as AKIMBO. ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES is very much a fan of previous work from the BAND on Satanik Royalty Records and highly recommend new listeners investigate the discography further. The upcoming 2-song single by BAND, hereafter referred to as AVIARY/BALEEN has a limited-edition initial pressing on blue and white splatter vinyl pressing of 300 copies, and successive runs will not be as colorful. Immediate orders are encouraged. This cheeky duality of Sandrider is also captured perfectly in the subject matter of the EP’s two tracks: The explosive first track, “Aviary,” portrays the modern hellscape of social media as sinister, soulless mama bird, willfully vomiting disinformation into the eager mouths of enthusiastically consenting participants. “PLEASE MOTHER, FEED THEM YOUR BILE. DOUSE THE BABES WITH YOUR WHOLESOME RETCH,” vocalist/guitarist Jon Weisnewski wails over massive, frenetic riffs, rounded out by bassist Jesse Roberts’ warm low end and drummer Nat Damm’s ultra-hard, punch-like beats. The song concludes in a frenzy of danceable beats, with Weisnewski doing his best Painkiller-era Halford screams as he commands you to flood the whole damn thing – drown those who wish to destroy us. As pissed off as the song is, you’ll feel triumphant by the end anyway. Side B’s “Baleen” on the other hand (while ironically the angrier-sounding song of the two), is about a lighter thought that keeps Weisnewski up at night: Do you ever think about how fucking weird whales are? They’re enormous floating creatures that can't handle gravity, and they hang out in the deepest oceans. Yet they can’t breathe underwater, so they have to stay near the top and come up for air all the time. Seems inconvenient. And you’d think that the biggest mammal that ever lived would be a brutal carnivore, right? But no. They eat the tiniest creatures, through a bunch of hair in their mouths. What the fuck? Anyway, ponder on that while you bang your head along with Sandrider’s signature primal, hypnotizingly heavy riffs.

Limitierte creme(weiß)farbene Vinyl-LP! Seit 30 Jahren fliegen die STAGE BOTTLES nun unter dem Radar der Mainstream-Medien, sind aber in ihrer Szene längst eine feste Größe und international erfolgreich. Sie haben sieben Alben veröffentlicht, spielen weltweit live, haben mit unzähligen Bands zusammen gepunktrockt und dabei immer Haltung bewiesen. Jetzt kommt nach zehn Jahren mit "We Need Each Other" wieder ein neues Album. STAGE BOTTLES gründete sich 1993 aus einem engen Freundeskreis der antifaschistischen Skinhead-Szene. Musikalisch prägt das Saxophon den klassisch melodiös-aggressiven Punkrock, der sich stark klassischen englischen Vorbildern orientiert. Textlich liegt der Fokus klar im Aufruf zum aktiven Antifaschismus und zu einer gesellschaftskritischen und antikapitalistischen Haltung. Eine ausgeprägte Affinität zum Fußball und zu subkulturellen Themen erfolgt auf oft auch für den Punkrock nicht konventionelle und sehr offene Art und Weise. Die größten Hits der Stage Bottles sind "Sometimes Anti-Social, But Always Anti-fascist" und "Dead but not forgiven" sowie ,Russia", "All you need is hate", "Too young to die", "Come together", ,One world one crew" und der Song "Solidarity" (angelehnt an die Version der Band Angelic Upstarts"). Am 1.Dezember 2023 wird das neue Studioalbum erscheinen, zeitgleich feiert die Band ihr 30jähriges Bestehen. Seid bereit für weitere Punkrock-Hymnen wie Useless Idiots, Power-Psycho, You'll Never Stop Us (zusammen mit MOSCOW DEATH BRIGADE), She Hates The City sowie dem Titeltrack und erster Single! "We Need Each Other" soll durchaus keine Floskel sein, sondern die grundlegende Parole für das Album. "Ein Lied über Freundschaft, das Älterwerden, das Altwerden mit Menschen, die seit Jahrzehnten mit einem zusammen sind. Daneben soll es aber auch einen Hinweis auf globale Probleme geben. Wenn wir nicht versuchen, die Dinge gemeinsam zu lösen, werden wir nicht genug Kraft haben, um erfolgreich zu sein" so Olaf Rüger, Sänger, Frontmann und Kopf der Band. Aktueller kann ein Titel wohl heutzutage kaum sein, die STAGE BOTTLES sind zurück und sagen, was Sache ist. Aufklappbare Digisleeve-CD mit 16seitigem Booklet, Vinyl-LP mit bedruckter Innenhülle plus 4seitigem-12"-Booklet.

Seit 30 Jahren fliegen die STAGE BOTTLES nun unter dem Radar der Mainstream-Medien, sind aber in ihrer Szene längst eine feste Größe und international erfolgreich. Sie haben sieben Alben veröffentlicht, spielen weltweit live, haben mit unzähligen Bands zusammen gepunktrockt und dabei immer Haltung bewiesen. Jetzt kommt nach zehn Jahren mit "We Need Each Other" wieder ein neues Album. STAGE BOTTLES gründete sich 1993 aus einem engen Freundeskreis der antifaschistischen Skinhead-Szene. Musikalisch prägt das Saxophon den klassisch melodiös-aggressiven Punkrock, der sich stark klassischen englischen Vorbildern orientiert. Textlich liegt der Fokus klar im Aufruf zum aktiven Antifaschismus und zu einer gesellschaftskritischen und antikapitalistischen Haltung. Eine ausgeprägte Affinität zum Fußball und zu subkulturellen Themen erfolgt auf oft auch für den Punkrock nicht konventionelle und sehr offene Art und Weise. Die größten Hits der Stage Bottles sind "Sometimes Anti-Social, But Always Anti-fascist" und "Dead but not forgiven" sowie ,Russia", "All you need is hate", "Too young to die", "Come together", ,One world one crew" und der Song "Solidarity" (angelehnt an die Version der Band Angelic Upstarts"). Am 1.Dezember 2023 wird das neue Studioalbum erscheinen, zeitgleich feiert die Band ihr 30jähriges Bestehen. Seid bereit für weitere Punkrock-Hymnen wie Useless Idiots, Power-Psycho, You'll Never Stop Us (zusammen mit MOSCOW DEATH BRIGADE), She Hates The City sowie dem Titeltrack und erster Single! "We Need Each Other" soll durchaus keine Floskel sein, sondern die grundlegende Parole für das Album. "Ein Lied über Freundschaft, das Älterwerden, das Altwerden mit Menschen, die seit Jahrzehnten mit einem zusammen sind. Daneben soll es aber auch einen Hinweis auf globale Probleme geben. Wenn wir nicht versuchen, die Dinge gemeinsam zu lösen, werden wir nicht genug Kraft haben, um erfolgreich zu sein" so Olaf Rüger, Sänger, Frontmann und Kopf der Band. Aktueller kann ein Titel wohl heutzutage kaum sein, die STAGE BOTTLES sind zurück und sagen, was Sache ist. Aufklappbare Digisleeve-CD mit 16seitigem Booklet, klassisch schwarze Vinyl-LP mit bedruckter Innenhülle plus 4seitigem-12"-Booklet.

4LP is four black vinyl discs in two gatefold jackets + two 18 x 24 folded posters in a side-load slipcase + a printed insert for full album download. This is strictly for Indies only. 2CD is two discs in a six panel wallet + a 28 page booklet + printed insert. Misfits & Mistakes: Singles, B-sides & Strays 2007–2023 is Superchunk’s fourth singles compilation, a massive, 4-LP (or 2-CD) collection covering their triumphant return from hiatus. The amount of ground covered within its gorgeous packaging is staggering: 50 songs, 16 of which are on physical media for the first time, sourced from out-of-print releases, digital singles, compilations, and more, a vital piece of the Superchunk canon. Featuring extensive liner notes by Mac McCaughan (with additional notes from Laura Ballance), Misfits & Mistakes tells the story of each release, from why they chose to cover songs by The Misfits, The Cure, Destiny’s Child, and Bananarama, to working with collaborators like Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee), Jane Wiedlin (The Go-Go’s), Eleanor Friedberger, Damian Abraham (Fucked Up), Norman Blake and Raymond McGinley (Teenage Fanclub), and more! Mac writes: Who knew it would take a cartoon hamburger to kick off a new period of activity for Superchunk? When we recorded “Misfits and Mistakes” for the Aqua Teen Hunger Force soundtrack at Overdub Lane in Durham, we also recorded the first version of “Learned to Surf” which gave us an on-ramp for making new music after 8 years of playing sporadic gigs. It also reminded us what we liked about playing Superchunk songs, whether they’re our own or written by our musical heroes. This collection covers a lot of ground, from heavy touring years to a pandemic where we made singles and an album at home. One difference between this comp and our first three is that this time span completely falls in the digital age; the distance from a final mix to everyone hearing it is shorter than ever. I’ve always liked artists that were prolific—throwing out singles in between albums when you least expect it. A surprise release from your favorite band is one of the few things that can still bring a little excitement to what can seem like an endless deluge of “content” (puke). Hopefully the wild swings between lo & hi fi and originals and covers on this comp still allow for some coherence and, more
importantly, convey what’s FUN about this punk rock thing.

Orange vinyl. Time is supposed to mellow us, but for Petrol Girls it has distilled their feminist politics into an ever more potent cocktail. Fitting, given that their logo from day one has been a flaming molotov. Since their formation in 2012, the band has been known for playing fast-paced, chaotic punk that takes aim at everything from sexual violence to immigration policy, but over the last few years their sound has evolved in a more nuanced direction. Their 2016 debut album Talk of Violence was a blast of pure political rage, while 2019's Cut & Stitch saw vocalist Ren Aldridge exploring familiar themes from a more personal perspective. Now their latest offering, Baby - to be released through the London-based independent label Hassle on June 24th - sees the band turn another new corner. This time, by embracing irreverence. "We wanted this album to be less epic and less preachy from day one," Aldridge says. "I hate sanctimoniousness. Like, really fucking hate it. But I also know that I have been mega preachy, and felt very pressured to be sanctimonious, because we've always played in a very political punk scene. I lost my fun side, and I really needed to come back to that." Recorded with Pete Miles at Middle Farm Studios in Devon, Baby embraces a more playful sound. A focus on groove and repetition - driven by guitarist Joe York, drummer Zock and bassist Robin Gatt - give the songs a Talking Heads feel, while retaining the band's formative post-punk energy. The lyrics, too, are a departure for Aldridge. While she continues to address heavy topics like burn out, femicide and police violence, the lyrics balance directed anger with tongue-in-cheek humour where appropriate. Angular opener "Preachers" puts the self-aggrandising nature of call-out culture on blast with lyrics like "feeling dead important in the comments", while lead single "Baby, I Had An Abortion" is intentionally puerile from title to finish. On the flip side, tracks like "Violent By Design" see the band kicking back against carceral feminism in the wake of a news cycle dominated by Black Lives Matter protests and PC Wayne Cousins' brutal murder of Sarah Everard. Similarly, "Fight For Our Lives" - a harsh, borderline industrial song - was lyrically co-written by activist and vocalist Janey Starling. Aldridge deliberately wrote the verses to sound like a manifesto, and the lyrics reference Starling's Dignity For Dead Women Campaign with Level Up, which successfully called for the UK media to change the way it reports on fatal incidents of domestic violence. Baby saw Petrol Girls working in new ways - scrapping entire songs rather than trying to force things that didn't feel right, recording to tape for the first time, and deliberately leaving in imperfections. It was a more carefree process, which Aldridge - having gone through a particularly bad period of mental ill-health at the start of 2021 - welcomed. "Our whole thing for a long time, and a big focus of the last record, was making political struggle sustainable," Aldridge says. "And I think having a good time where possible, and things being not totally serious all the time, is really essential."

LP SHIPPING ONLY / CD DELAYED “This is definitely the most honest and mature record Deathchant has ever made.” That’s Deathchant vocalist and guitarist T.J. Lemieux talking about the band’s third and latest album, Thrones. Think of it as not just the follow-up to 2021’s Waste, but the other side of the coin. “While Waste and our self-titled album touched on similar themes, they were sort of from a problem standpoint,” he explains. “Thrones is full of reflection, self-realization, and solutions for moving forward and conquering those problems.” Which isn’t to say that Deathchant have gone soft. Far from it, dude. In fact, Thrones just might be their heaviest record thus far. The band’s seamless swirl of classic rock guitar harmonies, syrupy sludge, blues boogie and psych bombast has reached a thrilling new apex as Lemieux spins high-powered tales of reckoning from beyond the wall of sanity. Thematically, Lemieux and his bandmates—bassist George Camacho, guitarist Doug Stuckey and drummer Joe Herzog—peel back the veneer of self-delusion to expose the fork in the road. “Thrones is meant to represent things that rule you, things you worship, things you rely on or think you need,” Lemieux says. “Sometimes those things make you feel in control, safe, on top of the world like you're in power—which over time often proves untrue.” Witness lead single “Mirror”: Kicking off with gleaming Lizzy-isms, the song rumbles into a thick groove overlaid with lysergic fireworks that conjure the shaggy European movers of decades past. “‘Mirror’ is the key to the whole Thrones theme,” Lemieux explains. “It’s about looking inward to realize what's ruling you, what's consuming you, and how delusional you've been about those things. Your sense of self is so damn important, and fully facing your truths is not an easy thing to do. It’s admitting that you’ve intentionally dulled and quieted your mind to distract, avoid and run from yourself, from memory, from loss and truth. At some point, you have to face that shit.” The languid and dreamy “Mother Mary” is also crucial to Thrones’ trajectory. “If the album was a book, ‘Mirror’ would be the first chapter and ‘Mother Mary’ would be the last chapter, though they’re not the first and last track for sonic reasons,” Lemieux explains. “‘Mirror’ is saying, ‘I’m looking inward because some things need to change,’ while ‘Mother Mary’ is saying, ‘Okay, things are fucked and have gone way too far but now we have this understanding—and acknowledging things is key to overcoming.’” Thrones was recorded live in a cabin in the remote mountain community of Frazier Park, CA, with trusty engineer Steve Schroeder (a.k.a. Schroeds). “We moved in for a week, rehearsed a bit and went for it,” Lemieux says. “Each tune got three or so takes, but we nailed ‘Mother Mary’ and ‘Canyon’ right away.” Overdubs were done at the cabin, Schroeder’s Studio 3, and Lemieux’s place. The album was produced by Lemieux and Schroeder. “Overall, it’s a pretty dark record,” Lemieux says. “It's serious and leans into heavy themes, sometimes using metaphor and imagery to soften those blows, but sometimes it hits direct. It’s positive, though—and cathartic. Forever riding on the line of total insanity and flirting with mental degradation. It’s our most realized and ambitious record to date.”

The Sad Clown Bad Dub series first started as a string of limited cassette tapes and CD-R's for Atmosphere to sell exclusively on tour. Since its inception in 1999, the Sad Clown series has seen over a dozen iterations in numerous formats, including rare 4-track demos, live recordings, a DVD of behind-the-scenes tour footage, a mixtape, 7” vinyl singles and more. To this day, one of the earliest volumes – Sad Clown Bad Dub 2 – still remains one of the most celebrated and coveted installments from the series.

Originally released in 2000, Sad Clown Bad Dub 2 was a rather stripped-down DIY release – a simple CD tucked behind an illustrated cover with handwritten tracklist and liner notes. The recordings were equally as rough, consisting of a dozen raw 4-track demos that hadn't been treated to any sort of mixing or mastering. Although Atmosphere initially produced only 500 copies of these CD's to sell on the road for extra cash, the buzz and the subsequent demand from fans eventually led the group to pressing more of the CD's, this time stamp- ing the cover art with the phrase "Authorized Bootleg" as a sly nod to those who'd been ripping and sharing the files. The unpolished nature of Sad Clown Bad Dub 2 was no deterrent from the appeal of its contents though.

Generally considered an underground classic in hip-hop circles, Sad Clown Bad Dub 2 is often mentioned as one of the standout releases in Atmosphere's extensive discography. It is a deeply introspective project that explores a range of complex thoughts and emotions, counter-balanced by occasional moments of darkly humorous sarcasm and wit. Slug's writing is sharp and insightful with a knack for turning his personal struggles into universal themes that listeners can relate to. Ant's production is minimalistic, moody, even eclectic in nature, full of atmospheric textures and unconventional rhythms. This release is very clearly one of the early stepping stones in developing their unique and distinctive sound together, helping to establish their reputation as one of the most innovative and boundary- pushing acts in hip-hop.

We're excited to reintroduce the legendary Sad Clown Bad Dub 2, digitally remastered from the original 4-track tapes and available on vinyl for the first time ever!

Well, we're two full months into 2017 and the world continues to burn like an avalanche of flaming biohazard material sliding down a mountain of used needles into a canyon full of rat feces. But hey, it's not all bad: Portugal. The Man has a new album coming out called Woodstock.


PTM's last album came out over three years ago—a long gap for a band who've dropped roughly an album a year since 2006. And in true, prolific band fashion, they've spent almost every minute since 2013 working on an album called Gloomin + Doomin. They created a shit-ton of individual songs, but as a whole, none of them hung together in a way that felt right. Then John Gourley, PTM's lead singer, made a trip home to Wasilla, Alaska, (Home of Portugal. The Man's biggest fan, Sarah Palin) and two things happened that completely changed the album's trajectory.

First, John got some parental tough love from his old man, who called John on the proverbial carpet or dogsled or whatever you put people on when you want to yell at them in Alaska. What's taking so long to finish the album' John's dad said. Isn't that what bands do Write songs and then put them out' Like fathers and unlicensed therapists tend to do, John's dad cut him deep. The whole thing started John thinking about why the band seemed to be stuck on a musical elliptical machine from hell and, more importantly, about how to get off of it.

Second, fate stuck its wiener in John's ear again when he found his dad's ticket stub from the original 1969 Woodstock music festival. It seems like a small thing, but talking to his dad about Woodstock '69 knocked something loose in John's head. He realized that, in the same tradition of bands from that era, Portugal. The Man needed to speak out about the world crumbling around them. With these two ideas converging, the band made a seemingly bat-shit-crazy decision: they took all of the work they had done for the three years prior and they threw it out.

It wasn't easy and there was the constant threat that the band's record label might have them killed, but the totally insane decision paid off. With new, full-on, musical boners, the band went back to the studio—working with John Hill (In The Mountain In The Cloud), Danger Mouse (Evil Friends), Mike D (Everything Cool), and longtime collaborator Casey Bates (The one consistent producer since the first record). In this new-found creative territory, the album that became Woodstock rolled out naturally from there.

Remember that mountain of burning needles we were talking about Good. Because Woodstock is an album (Including the new single Feel It Still') that—with optimism and heart—points at the giant pile and says, Hey, this pile is fucked up!' And if you think that pile is fucked up too, you owe it to yourself—hell, to all of us—to get out there and do something about it.

For the third of Sonic Youth's sound experiment series, they teamed up with legendary nosie-nik Jim O'Rourke. Building on the ideas from the brilliant extended version of "The Diamond Sea" (from WASHING MACHINE); the series explores the (mostly) instrumental side of the band. Though sold as an EP, the three tracks on the CD version of clock in at just over 56 minutes, and can sit quite comfortably with any of SY's best work.

The title track opens the record with over 20 minutes of drenching feedback, saxophone tints, and cut-up television dialogue suggesting the soundtrack to a film-noir set in an industrial wasteland. The comparatively short (at 6 minutes) "Hungara Vivo" is the middle track of this extraordinarily strong trio and is the band's first true "ambient" soundscape: even the master himself, Brian Eno, might be a little envious. The closer, "Radio-Amatoroj," is a 29-minute mediation that structurally recalls "Hyperstation" from the seminal DAYDREAM NATION album. Though this record, and indeed the series to which it belongs, is not aimed at fans of the band's more pop-oriented material, as a whole, it is easily the best work they have done in years. All text written in Esperanto. Eye-fucking cover art.

Die Musik von Arabrot ist zeitlos. Gerade wenn man glaubt, einen Einfluss oder Bezugspunkt ausgemacht zu haben, entzieht sie sich dem Zugriff, dreht und wendet sich in unerwartete Richtungen und formt einen Sound, der wirklich einzigartig ist. In den letzten zwei Jahrzehnten hat sich Arabrot durch mehrere Iterationen gewandelt; sie haben verschiedene Formen und Größen ausprobiert, verschiedene Stimmungen aufgenommen und die Außengrenzen verschiedener Genres erkundet und klangen dabei nie weniger als ganz sie selbst. 2023 erscheint ihr zehntes Album, Of Darkness and Light - ein Grund zum Feiern. Kjetil Nernes war der Kern und die Konstante von Arabrot, und seit einiger Zeit schlägt neben ihm ein weiteres Herz im perfekten Gleichklang. Karin Park, eine Partnerin im Leben, in der Liebe und in der Musik, trägt seit zehn Jahren in unterschiedlichem Maße zu Arabrot bei, und auf Of Darkness and Light ist ihre Präsenz sowohl gefestigt als auch verstärkt. Die beiden leben zusammen in einer Kirche in dem schwedischen Dorf, in dem Karin aufgewachsen ist, und haben sich ihr eigenes Reich geschaffen, in dem sie ihre Kinder, ihr Handwerk und ihre kreativen Visionen pflegen. Of Darkness and Light brauchte einige Zeit, um Gestalt anzunehmen. Der Lebenslauf von Produzent Alain Johannes liest sich wie ein Who's Who der Rockmusik. Er ist selbst ein versierter Musiker (er spielte mit PJ Harvey, Queens of the Stone Age und Them Crooked Vultures und hatte auch seine eigene Band Eleven) und verfügt über langjährige Erfahrung als Produzent. Es war seine Arbeit an Mark Lanegans Album Straight Songs of Sorrow aus dem Jahr 2020, die Kjetil auf ihn aufmerksam machte, bevor Kismet eingriff und die beiden zusammenbrachte. Alain erklärte, dass "mein Bauchgefühl immer richtig ist" und zog im August 2022 ins Djura Missionshus, auch bekannt als die Kirche von A°rabrot, um mit der Arbeit zu beginnen. Das Trio verbrachte mehrere Wochen damit, die Arbeit mit dem Familienleben zu verbinden und die Puzzleteile zusammenzusetzen, aus denen sich Of Darkness and Light zusammensetzt - ihr erstes Album, das komplett in der Kirche aufgenommen wurde. Das Ergebnis ist ein echtes Rockalbum - unter der elektrisierenden Fassade aus flirrenden Synthesizern und raffiniertem Glitzern schlägt ein schweres Rockherz. Die Worte werden dem unbändigen, konkupiszenten Verlangen kaum gerecht, das sich hinter ihrem Schlachtruf We Want Blood verbirgt - einem hymnischen, mit den Füßen stampfenden Vorstoß, der in der Mitte des Albums liegt. An anderer Stelle stehen düstere Mörderballaden neben feierlichen "Fuck Yeah"-Momenten der Freude; ihre reduzierte Herangehensweise an die Instrumentierung schmälert nicht den Reichtum ihres Sounds. Für Freunde von SWANS, KILLING JOKE, WOVENHAND, CHELSEA WOLFE, THE MELVINS, CAPTAIN BEEFHEART, NINE INCH NAILS Ltd Pink Single Colour LP (We Want Blood Edition), Gatefold Cover

Punk pioneers Crass continue their vinyl reissue series, repressing their limited releases by adjacent artists through Crass Records, in association with One Little Independent. The series, including over twenty bands and solo artists recorded at the legendary Southern Studios and produced by Penny Rimbaud, continues with two more historic pieces from the Crass Records catalogue; ‘Farce’ by Rudimentary Peni and ‘Can’t Cheat Karma’ by Zounds.

Zounds are an English post-punk band from Reading, Berkshire, formed in 1977. Originally, they were part of the cassette culture movement, releasing material on the Fuck Off Records label, and were also involved in the squatting and free festival scene. The name of the band is derived from the old English ‘zounds’, a contraction of ‘God’s wounds’, referring to the crucifixion wounds of Jesus Christ, formerly used as a mildly blasphemous oath.

The band met up with fellow anarchists Crass when, legend has it, their van broke down on the road. They made their way to nearby Dial House, where Crass were based, who helped them with repairs. The two bands became friends, and although musically very divergent, they shared many common political views. Zounds shortly afterwards released their first EP, ‘Can't Cheat Karma’, on the Crass Records label in 1980. The EP featured possibly their most well-known track ‘Subvert’, a call to arms against the grind of daily life. The release of this EP and association with Crass led to an increase in the band's profile in the embryonic anarcho-punk scene, touring with both Crass and Poison Girls. They split in 1982 but reformed in 2007, and remain active today.

Penny continues; “Zounds could have made a fine pop group, but they were far too socially sassy to fall for that one. No, their commitment to radical political change, so abundantly clear in their lyrics, set them apart from the commercialism that had so blighted the likes of The Clash and other punkish pretenders. Having been drawn from the ranks of hippy bands like Here and Now, Zounds encouraged dissent and personal change, and, at their own cost, to pursue and promote them as ideologies. Can't cheat karma? No, nor ever beat it. Zounds were hip to this fine point. Want a better life?

Then make it for yourself. Ain't no one gonna help you out on that one. Find your own way, it's the only way there is.”

First released on 7” vinyl, limiting the sound, the new series has been remastered for 12” by Alex Gordon at Abbey Road Studios, allowing them to be heard as never before. This, plus enlarged replicas of the original covers, brings new gusto to their already radical sound.

Nonesuch releases Sorry I Haven’t Called, the new album by Vagabon, the moniker of Lætitia Tamko. Co-produced by Tamko and Rostam (Vampire Weekend, Haim, Clairo), it finds Tamko reinventing herself once again and features the most playful and adventurous music of her career, as evidenced by its lead track and opening song ‘Can I Talk My Shit?’. Vagabon has also announced an autumn tour that includes a headline run in the US, as well as European dates with Weyes Blood.



“I didn’t feel like being introspective,” says Tamko of her new album. “I just wanted to have fun.” Following her intimate 2017 debut Infinite Worlds, the New York artist favoured expansive and evocative electronic textures in her breakthrough 2019 self-titled follow-up. But her latest album feels like a wholly new era for Tamko, one that’s transformational and uncompromising. Across 12 vibrant tracks she wrote and produced primarily in Germany, she channels dance music and effervescent pop through her own confident sensibilities. These conversational songs are alive and unselfconscious, a document of an artist fully embracing her vision and reclaiming her joy.



The first words she sings on the album are, “Can I talk my shit? / I got way too high for this.” It’s a statement of purpose for the rest of the album that this is an unapologetic artist. “This whole record is how I talk to my friends and how to talk to my lovers,” says Tamko. “I think honesty and conversational songwriting can become poetry. There’s beauty in plainly speaking without metaphors and without flowery imagery.”



The story of Sorry I Haven’t Called started in grief after Tamko’s best friend died in 2021. This devastating and unexpected loss unmoored Tamko but also gave her a newfound clarity. “The things that I thought I cared about, I no longer cared about,” she says. “I had a realization that I need to make sure to feel everything that comes my way.” She decided to sell her things and move to a small lakeside village a few hours north of Hamburg in northern Germany to process everything. “There's no linear path to grief, and everyone handles it differently, but uprooting my life just felt like exactly what I had to do,” says Tamko. “I needed a place to think and go through my discomfort privately but to also explore the newness and urgency I was feeling in my life.” In the village, her phone didn’t work and there were no close grocery stores or restaurants, so she spent her time alone working on music.



Despite the palpable absence in her life, her new songs were her most disarming and ebullient yet. The first one she wrote was ‘Carpenter’, a mesmerizing track anchored by a tangible bass groove, where she sings, “I wasn’t ready to move on out / but I'm more ready now.” It’s a fully-realised track and feels like the culmination of her catalogue so far. “A lot of the music that I was making there had nothing to do with my grief at all,” says Tamko. “Once I gave myself permission to make a record that's full of life and energy, I realized that’s the point of this album. In the midst of going through all of these tough things, it became a record because of the vitality that these songs had.” For Tamko, there’s power in pursuing happiness.



While writing in Germany, Tamko nurtured her love for dance music and let it seep into her new songs. “The only things that were giving me access to a feeling were dance music and going to a rave in an extremely dark club where if I wanted to cry, I could do it and be around other people,” she says.



After a few months in Germany that included marathon writing sessions and a whirlwind romance, Tamko decided to stay with friends in Los Angeles and finish her record. She enlisted co-producer Rostam to help her unify her vision.



Sorry I Haven’t Called is a warm and resilient album about embracing the ecstatic moments wherever you can by knowing how you love and how you mourn. It’s an album born of both communal dancefloor revelations and the clarifying peace from solitude, an emotional rebirth as well as an artistic one. “This record feels like what I've been working towards,” says Tamko. “When I think of this album, I think of playfulness. It's completely euphoric. It's because things were dark that this record is so full of life and energy. It’s a reaction to what I was experiencing at the time, not a document of it.”

ANTI- Records is honored to share a never-before-heard album by Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse titled Bird Machine. Originally recorded in 2010 and mixed by Mark Hamilton (who also worked on It"s A Wonderful Life), Mark"s brother Matt notes "great care has been taken to archive and preserve Mark"s music.

We are very thankful for Mark and the beauty he brought to this world." Sparklehorse was an American indie rock band formed by singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Mark Linkous in the mid-1990s.

Born on September 9, 1962, in Arlington, Virginia, Linkous began playing music as a teenager. Described as an artist who "compelled listeners to heed the beauty of darkness" by Pitchfork, Sparklehorse released many influential records, including the renowned albumsn Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot and Good Morning Spider in the "90s, It"s A Wonderful Life and Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain in the early aughts, and a collaborative album Dark Night of the Soul released in 2010.

Throughout his career Mark collaborated with thought provoking artists like Vic Chesnutt, Daniel Johnston, Tom Waits, Danger Mouse, and David Lynch.

While Mark recorded in various studios, collaborating with other musicians and producers, he did much of his work in his home studio, Static King, often playing and recording everything on his own. He was "very much kind of a working-class guy with a very poetic sensibility, who was drawn to artists like himself, who worked in isolation," said NPR Fresh Air"s Ken Tucker.

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.

Indies Only LP is opaque green vinyl. Both LPs come with a download. The moment the needle drops on Bite, the new A Giant Dog record, one’s conception of what an A Giant Dog record sounds like bends like space and time around a starship running at lightspeed. The biggest point of departure is that Bite is a concept album, concerning characters who find themselves moving in and out of a virtual reality called Avalonia. A Giant Dog’s first album of original songs since 2017’s Toy, Bite finds the band Sabrina Ellis, Andrew Cashen, Danny Blanchard, Graham Low, and Andy Bauer at their peak as musicians, challenging themselves with more complex arrangements and subject matter that forced them out of their heads and into those of the characters who occupy this supposed paradise. “We had to find ourselves within, or project ourselves into, the principal characters. We developed them, got to know their minds, emotions, and motivations, and then expressed those in nine songs,” Ellis explains. Themes of addiction, gender fluidity, living ethically in a capitalist society, physical autonomy, avarice, grief, and consent bubble beneath the promised happiness of Avalonia. This is evident in songs like “Different Than,” where Ellis sings, “My body can’t explain the things my mind don’t comprehend” as if societal gender pressure is squeezing its protagonist out of their skin. The songs on Bite are full of bombast, at turns calling to mind the spacefaring operatic rock of Electric Light Orchestra and the high drama of an Ennio Morricone film score. The album’s narrative sweep is epic in scope, its characters facing impossible odds and certain doom, existing as comfortably with the sci-fi grandiosity of Thin Lizzy’s Jailbreak as it does with the high fantasy of Dio and Iron Maiden. Appropriately, A Giant Dog came to this narrative armed to the teeth with new ideas, unleashing synthesizers and string sections to create what Ellis describes as orchestral, symphonic, futuristic punk. To achieve this, they left their home turf of Austin, Texas, for La Cuve Studio, just outside of Angers, France. Living in the French countryside, A Giant Dog laid down their vision of the future against a decidedly pastoral backdrop. On walks from Angers to La Cuve, Ellis says that they “would see many things, and also nothing at all. Swans on the river. Romani people living in little trailers, with a side hut built for their dog. A juggler on a unicycle—not fucking with you.” “We thought we wouldn’t be allowed back in France after this trip, to be honest,” they continued. “Five loud, stomping, clapping, rowdy Americans who ran through the streets of Angers for three weeks in November 2022.” The experience capped two years of planning and writing, fleshing out the universe of Avalonia beyond the bounds of most concept albums. The resulting nine songs do not merely occupy this space: They’ve lived in it, and they want out.

A pop record for tired times. Sugared with bits of shatterproof glass to put more crack in your strap. At long last, verse / chorus. A weathered thesaurus. This is OSEES bookend sound. Early grade garage pop meets protosynth punk suicide-repellant. Have a whack at the grass or listen while flat on your ass. Heaps of electronic whirling accelerants to gum up your cheapskate broadband. Social media toilet scrapers unite! Allow your 24-hour news cycle eyes to squint at this smiling abattoir doorman. You can find your place here at long last. All are welcome from the get go to the finale…a distant crackling transmission of 80s synth last-dance-of-the-night tune for your lost loves. Suffering from Politic amnesia? Bored of AI-generated pop slop? Then this one is for you, our friends. Wasteland wanderer, stick around. Love y’all. For fans of Teutonic synth punk and Thee Oh Sees (who the fuck are they?)” — John Dwyer

A pop record for tired times. Sugared with bits of shatterproof glass to put more crack in your strap. At long last, verse / chorus. A weathered thesaurus. This is OSEES bookend sound. Early grade garage pop meets protosynth punk suicide-repellant. Have a whack at the grass or listen while flat on your ass. Heaps of electronic whirling accelerants to gum up your cheapskate broadband. Social media toilet scrapers unite! Allow your 24-hour news cycle eyes to squint at this smiling abattoir doorman. You can find your place here at long last. All are welcome from the get go to the finale…a distant crackling transmission of 80s synth last-dance-of-the-night tune for your lost loves. Suffering from Politic amnesia? Bored of AI-generated pop slop? Then this one is for you, our friends. Wasteland wanderer, stick around. Love y’all. For fans of Teutonic synth punk and Thee Oh Sees (who the fuck are they?)” — John Dwyer

Katie Munshaw really needed to finish the fucking quilt, and find a way to
sew herself into it
The lead singer of Ontario four-piece Dizzy has been thinking a lot about the way
things look and the way you can find comfort in disappearing into it all. She
describes the album, a bright indie-pop beast continuing the legacy built from two
previous shimmering records, as a "patchwork quilt" with each song a square, or a
sliver, of her life. "None of them have all that much to do with each other and yet
they wouldn't exist without one another," she says.
It makes for a colourful record that's intrinsically Dizzy - one that swerves
comparison, instead reflecting the shapeshifting and imperfect nature of its
musicians. Avoiding the spotlight yet more confidently themselves than ever.
Munshaw is satisfied with where this record finds Dizzy. The band's first record,
she says, was "formative" to what kind of musician she became, even though "I
was young and had no business making a record. The Sun and Her Scorch was
our rebellious teenage phase where we thought we could do it all ourselves, this
new chapter is about throwing our hands up saying 'we don't have all the
answers. I'm open to having somebody help me. Help us.'"
Listeners will find that Dizzy have made what sounds like their most confident
work to date; embracing the best parts of what has made fans fall in love with
them in the past while confidently stepping into the future and trying new things;
ready to show the world exactly who they are as artists - mask or no mask.
Heavily supported across DSPs, with prime playlist placements across Spotify,
Apple Music, Amazon, YouTube, Deezer and Tidal.
Plays on BBC Radio 1, Radio 2, Radio X.
Coverage on The Independent, Clash, Line of Best Fit, DIY, Dork, Brooklyn Vegan,
Gigwise, She Makes Music, Scientists of Sound, Cool Music & Things, Mystic
Sons and many more.

Singular Texan musician Craig Clouse hurtles unstoppably towards the 20th birthday of his dancefloor-splintering electronic project Shit And Shine, releasing a landmark LP, his first full-length for The state51 Conspiracy, ‘2222 And AIRPORT’. Acid house, minimal techno, electro, funk, krautrock, hip hop, found sound, spoken word, live percussion and industrial are blown apart stupendously and then reassembled – mad-scientist style, in a way peculiar to Clouse – into 13 hypnotic and transportative tracks.

Lead single SWISS, out 24 March, is a gloriously minimalist funk jam that sounds like the exact point at which someone turns the lights off at a lowkey house party and a wild night for the ages gets under way. An almost scornfully skeletal riff, sounding like a misfiring Cyberdine Systems Model 101 summoning up a Prince circa Sign “O” The Times riff while crashing head first into the hyper-processed early work of Prefuse 73, also featuring a cheeky sample of revered Mancunian DJ Luke Una talking about “existential fucking darkness”.

This is followed on 4 April by INFINITE SHITE, arguably the epic central track to the album, is a Shit And Shine banger for the ages, its dancefloor affect, undeniable. An unforgiving, pulsating Byetone-style bass drone worthy itself of being blasted on a Funktion-One rig, is just the background for a colossal acid b-line, destroying all in its path.

Micro details bristle at the liminal level, threatening to only reveal themselves to those in a club, those listening on headphones or those experiencing a heightened sensory state.

Classic madness and violence! Death Metal history, the ultimate edition! Death Strike need little introduction to anyone who would consider themselves seasoned in the realm of Death Metal, the legendary Paul Speckmann’s debut foray into the genre has garnered pretty much cult status now as a genre classic and not without good reason. This reissue of 1991 album compiles the debut demo from ‘85 together with four other tracks for the rather aptly titled “Fuckin’ Death”, and being brutally honest, could you possibly have a more suitable description for the sensory annihilation present on these recordings? It’s that fact that half this material was recorded back in the mid-eighties that really makes it stand out, Death Metal was still in its infantile stages back then with extreme metal making a transition between the Crust influenced filth of Hellhammer and the ilk to a more brutal strain with bands like Possessed and Slaughter emerging out of the underground with a significantly more potent and brutal form of metal unlike anything heard before, and when you realize it came out at the same time as two monumental releases by the aforementioned bands you wonder why the fuck it never got quite as much attention as it was just as influential if not more so than those classics. If you’re one of the unenlightened still wondering who the fuck Death Strike are, “Fuckin’ Death” was essentially just the first Master album under a different moniker, and along with Master’s debut and “On the Seventh Day...” are Death Metal classics. The first four tracks as previously mentioned are from 1985 and astonishingly ahead of their time. It’s basically ‘Hellhammer on crack’, fast brutal and utterly primal Death Metal with that huge hardcore influence shining through. Paul’s vocals are a maniacal and wretched reverbed howl that just add to the chaos conjured with Kirk’s unbridled leads, the d-beat styled drumming and thundering, bowel shaking bass. Songs like “Pay to Die” and “Re-Entry and Destruction” are impossible not to like, it’s extreme metal heaven (or hell, whichever you prefer), straight-forward, catchy and downright punishing.

Lion Machine 23 is a four piece Rock band fronted by singer / guitarist & songwriter extraordinaire Daland based in North London, a mix between Oasis and Nirvana, who have already packed out venues across the city, as well as a recent tour of Argentina featuring a support for the Arctic Monkeys. This four song EP has been co-produced with West London’s finest, JBJ Studios Stormzy, Skrillex & more is due for release this Spring! UK dates incl festivals tbc.

2023s one to watch with true rock n roll style, prepared to get blown away by Lion Machine 23. `Liar’ kicks off with heavy grinding guitars, over which lead
singer Daland’s vocals laments the tone. Solid-driving strobe-lit bass completes the track with a rejuvenating catchy chorus when Daland belts out Liar you can’t help singing along.

Turning the noise up a notch on `The Mobile Phone’ lead singer Daland charismatically vocalises the good and bad of having technology at your fingertips. Bursting into a perspicuity of unending guitars and drums energise the track.

‘Always’ Summer festival anthem in the making, carries that feel good factor.

‘Fucking Under The Water’ Always a crowd pleaser.

Donovan Woods was curious: What if he re-recorded Both Ways, his acclaimed 2018 record that won him a Juno Award for contemporary roots album, and distilled its 12 songs to their bare essence? An “acoustic reimagining,” if you will. “We started from scratch,” he says, from the instrumentation to his vocals to a fresh understanding of the heartache and regret that underpinned those songs. “There are no recording elements carried over from that album. It’s all brand-new.” Woods ended up with The Other Way, his album that brims with inspired interpretations of Both Ways that are intimate yet startling in their urgency. Released on May 3, 2019 on Meant Well, this release is a reminder of why the Canadian artist has become such a sought-after songwriter whose work has been recorded by Tim McGraw (“Portland, Maine”) and Lady Antebellum’s Charles Kelley (“Leaving Nashville”), with Spotify streams approaching nearly 90 million. You’ve always been able to hear and connect with Woods’ words. But an odd sensation washes over you when the varnish is wiped off of Woods’ songs. Somehow the lyrics burrow with even greater resonance and then linger like little smoke rings. For a producer, Woods enlisted ace guitarist Todd Lombardo, who produced Woods’ song “Portland, Maine” in 2015 and wrote and played most of the guitar parts on Kacey Musgraves’ Grammy-winning Golden Hour. Woods gave Lombardo artistic license not only to change the chords and song structures but to overhaul the arrangements with acoustic instruments and Lombardo’s luminous guitar work as the centerpiece. “I think this album draws out the pain and the darkness of these songs,” Lombardo says. “The record is about loss and failure and feeling like you fucked it up, and there’s no mistaking that. You hear every single word – and feel it, too.” Coming on the heels of “Go to Her,” Woods’ first song of 2019, The Other Way is so revelatory that it makes you wonder why he didn’t try this approach sooner. “It’s always been an interesting idea to me, especially when you’re an artist like me who inherently disappoints some people anytime your sound gets bigger,” Woods says. “But a really good song is a good song in any arrangement. It’s like a beautiful hardwood floor. You can put any furniture in there, and it’s going to look good.”

Defamator is the long-time-coming debut project of 24-year-old Chloe Gallardo. It tells a story of betrayal in love and friendship and the painful reality of overcoming love lost and former heartbreak.


Drawing influences from artists such as Broadcast, Grouper & My Bloody Valentine Gallardo adds her own haunting, folk-style vocals and hyper-specific lyrics to create a sonic unique to her. A style that she describes in her words as “dark shoegaze bedroom indie pop”.

Album opener “Bloodline” epitomises this bittersweet modus operandi. 15 seconds into its dainty acoustic strum , Gallardo adamantly sulks “I’m fucked up” - the salvo of a lyric about feeling like a family disappointment. As the track lifts up into a cascading gaze-pop rush, recalling the likes of Bachelor and Snail Mail, we’re blessed with a pristine elegance that belies the song’s raging core.
“I have always written music this way.”, she says of this fundamental contradiction. “It’s funny because I try so hard to write darker sounding songs and they always come out way too pretty. So, I’ve resorted to writing the most gut-wrenching and intense lyrics to compensate.”

Written mostly during peak-pandemic times in Gallardo’s bedroom - (“you can hear how scared and alone I was.”) - the songs that made their way onto Defamator arose from a concerted period of healing. Drawing from the teachings of therapy, the songwriting process gave her the means to channel some deeply entrenched emotional scars.
This venting of anger is implicit throughout the record. The album’s title - Gallardo’s own neologism - uses the concepts of “defamation” and “defamatory speech” to innovate a kind of pejorative accusation. As a result, it is like we are actively listening to Gallardo forcefully take command of her past. Of the title track she explains: “The song Defamator is about someone who spoke untruthful things about me in order to manipulate me and the way people perceived me and I felt that was an underlying theme in most of the album.”

Recorded at Jazzcat Studios in Long Beach California with Jonny Bell (Hanni El Khatib, Adult Books, etc.) Defamator marks Gallardo’s first time in a “legitimate recording studio”. And it shows. Bell’s production is vital moving part here. There’s more stripped back affairs - ‘There Will Be Blood”; ”The Way’ - songs which gently seethe and purr like Grouper’s spectral dream-pop; Gallardo’s fluttering folk-ish voice gloriously pushed to forefront.

Today sees Belgian-Caribbean provocateur Charlotte Adigéry and her long-term musical partner, Bolis Pupul announce their debut album Topical Dancer, due for release on March 4 2022 via Soulwax’s iconic label DEEWEE.
Cultural appropriation. Misogyny and racism. Social media vanity. Post-colonialism and political correctness. These are not talking points that you’d ordinarily hear on the dancefloor but Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul are ripping up the rulebook with their debut album Topical Dancer. The Ghent-based duo, who broke out with their 2019 Zandoli EP, are rare storytellers in electronic music: they take the temperature of the time and funnel them into their playful synth concoctions – never didactic and always with a knowing wink.

Their debut studio record – which cements them as a duo under both their names for the first time and is co-written and co-produced by Soulwax – is both a triumph of kaleidoscopic electro-pop and “a snapshot of how we think about pop culture in the 2020s.” It captures Charlotte and Bolis’s essence as musical collaborators and the conversations they’ve had over the past two years on tour, as well as their perspectives as Belgians with an immigrant background, Charlotte with Guadeloupean and French-Martinique ancestry and Bolis being of Chinese descent.

Beyond the album’s thematic heft, Topical Dancer reflects Charlotte and Bolis’s idiosyncratic sound: it’s thoughtful but it bangs. Their take on familiar genres is always off-kilter; songs sound undone or a little wonky; but these are nocturnal heaters to make the club throb. “We like to fuck things up a bit,” laughs Bolis. “We cringe when we feel like we're making something that already exists, so we're always looking for things to combine to make it sound not like a pop song, not like an R&B song, not a techno song. We’re always putting different worlds together. Charlotte and I get bored when things get too predictable.”

Topical Dancer is fizzing with ideas – there’s certainly no filler among its 13 tracks. But above all, perhaps, it has a restlessness, a desire not to be boxed in and to escape others’ narrow perceptions of who they are. It’s summarised by the refrain of their new single, ‘Blenda’: “Don’t sound like what I look like / Don’t look like what I sound like.” “One thing that always comes up,” says Bolis, “is that people perceive me as the producer, and Charlotte as just a singer. Or that being a Black artist means you should be making ‘urban’ music. Those kinds of boxes don’t feel good to us.”

‘Blenda’ in particular references how “I am a product of colonialism,” says Charlotte, “and I feel guilty for taking up space in a white country.” The song was inspired in part by Reni Eddo-Lodge’s book Why I’m Not Longer Talking To White People About Race. “It talks about the colonial past and post-colonial present in the UK,” Charlotte continues, “but that isn’t merely a British or American problem, Belgium is part of that as well.” She says that her home country is likewise “oblivious to a big part of its history” which “results in general ignorance and a lack of understanding and empathy towards Belgian inhabitants of immigrant descent.”

On Topical Dancer, it’s less about finger pointing or being dogmatic about all the things they speak about. It’s about emancipation through humour. “I don’t want to feel this heaviness on me,” says Charlotte. “These aren’t my crosses to bear. Topical Dancer is my way of freeing myself of these issues. And of having fun.”

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

It’s been seven strange years since The Veils’ last studio album Total Depravity, and Finn Andrews has a new double LP to show for it. "...And Out Of The Void Came Love" is the result of this tumultuous period of injury, isolation and new life...

Following the release of Total Depravity, Andrews released a solo album and began a worldwide tour. One night, while lashing out at a particularly intense moment on piano, he broke his wrist on stage. “It sounds wild and Jerry Lee Lewis-esque, but it was an absolute fucking nightmare,” Andrews says. He played on and finished the rest of the tour, but it wasn’t until he got it examined much later that he realized what a bad move that was. “The scaphoid bone in my wrist had died, which I didn’t know was possible. My sister said that at least it was a really ‘on brand’ injury for me.”

Finn’s convalescence meant a lengthy hiatus from touring, so he did what he does best and stayed at home and wrote songs. “I was in a cast and couldn’t use my right hand. I sang the melody lines, then recorded the right hand piano part, then the left hand part. It might have been an interesting, avant-garde process if it wasn’t also just profoundly annoying.”

Just when his hand had healed sufficiently for him to play again, The Veils found themselves in need of a new record label but Finn set about starting to make a new record regardless. Producer Tom Healy invited Finn to his small studio underneath the old Crystal Palace ballroom in Mount Eden, and they listened through the legions of songs he had amassed throughout the previous year.

“Tom was incredibly patient, it was a really laborious process - I brought a lot of junk down there and we had to sift through it all to try and find the parts worth saving.”

Following another two years of intermittent recording between lockdowns, Finn’s wife became pregnant, and yet more songs started coming.

By the time the songs had been recorded, it was clear that arranging the album into two halves best suited such varied material - but the meaning of the songs as a whole still eluded Andrews. “Then my daughter was born, and suddenly the whole record made sense to me,” he says. The music was telling a story, and somewhat strangely for The Veils, it seemed to have a happy ending.

The result of all these years of questioning, confinement and precarious uncertainty is the magnificent new double album from The Veils … And Out Of The Void Came Love. It is an album intended to be listened to in two sittings with a short break in the middle, or as Andrews instructs: “Make a coffee or smoke a cigarette – but don’t mow the lawn or go to the movies or something, that takes too long.”

Composer Victoria Kelly’s soaring string arrangements play an integral role in bringing the songs to life, as do musicians Cass Basil (bass), Dan Raishbrook (lap steel, guitar), Liam Gerrard (piano), Joseph McCallum (drums) the NZTrio and special guests the Smoke Fairies on backing vocals.

“Refreshingly passionate… Andrews rages with a Herculean intensity.” The Guardian
“Horse-whipped, lightning-crash clamor… magnetic.” Pitchfork
“One of the finest songwriters of his generation.” Drowned in Sound

For a quarter of an hour, Zürich was the navel of the world. Let's look back: at New York's CBGB's, pre-punks were shredding away, Malcolm McLaren, as a man with a fine-tuned taste for the hip, imported the sound to London, where his sweetheart Vivienne Westwood dressed the test-tube band The Sex Pistols. A few pop magazines later (we are in an analog world!) punk bands sprouted everywhere, like shiny pimples on poorly fed teenagers. Contrary to legend, even back then, it was often those with a musical background who were the most successful. One such example, Henrich "Wüste" Zwahlen, who had learned the violin, attended a jazz school and went into prog-rock before joining the Nasal Boys, one of the first punk bands in Zürich. The scene included the female band Kleenex (cover: Fischli of art heroes Fischli/Weiss), whose minimalism was praised by the London music press, while the world's most important rock theorist, Greil Marcus, wrote an ode highlighting Zürich's role as the birthplace of Dadaism. A fertile ground for the militant youth movement that exploded in 1980 and stirred up the city of banks, protestantism and boredom with raw wit and expressive violence. Gathering at concerts of local bands and fueled by endogenous and artificial substances - they paid homage to exuberance and self-indulgence.
The mantra of "everything-is-possible" was driven forward on the musical front by progress in terms of means of production: analog electronic instruments were no longer reserved for hippie nerds, who sat in front of large plug-in boards like autistic-psychedelic switchboard operators connecting cables for their sound carpets. Now snazzy stage personnel elicited fast-paced sounds from handy devices often made in Japan. Kraftwerk was fashionable, the Zurich duo Yello experimented with new synthetic sounds, and the groundbreaking album "Alles Ist Gut" by the Düsseldorf based duo D.A.F. (Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft) was released, which chanted its program of provocation times danceability with lines such as "Tanz den Jesus Christus, tanz the Mussolini, tanz the Adolf Hitler." In England meanwhile, electronically backed New Romantic bands were replacing New Wave. The Human League, Heaven 17, Duran Duran, OMD, Depeche Mode or Visage stormed the charts.
In Zürich's underground, the duo Aboriginal Voices caused a stir at that time. A couple, good-looking, styled, looking cool into the cold neon light, with a danceable beat and sequenced electro sounds, to which Micheline gave a very unique touch when she sang in French and English. Micheline had a classical piano education, had left home early, worked as a lighting technician in a strip joint and at Booster, the hottest boutique in town (one of the relicts that still exists). Voilà: a musician who was as stylish as she was tough. She was already playing with Wüste in the band "Doobie Doos", a band where everyone played an instrument they didn't master. In 1980 the Aboriginal Voices were formed, initially with vocalist Magda Vogel (of later UnknownmiX fame), who was trained as a classical singer.

Frustrated by organizational friction and constant hassles with band lineups, Wüste and Misch decided to do everything as a twosome: self-mixed, self-styled, self-produced. With the top-of-the-line Linn drum machine clocking the beat, Wüste's guitar and Micheline on the Yamaha synthesizer created a unique sound of danceable electronic music. Whereby the Aboriginal Voices acted as a kind of proto-influencer, receiving the latest equipment to try out, especially since they made it a point not to work with tapes, but to design everything for live shows. They had an interface built for the legendary Roland MC-4B, who sequenced the modular Roland System 100M but where one output controlled a light show synchronized with the sound. A pioneering act that fit well into the DIY spirit of punk, with its self-distributed tapes and fuck-you attitude towards the cretins of the music industry. Consequently only two cassettes and an EP were released. There was something futuristic about the sound, the vestiary style and the electronics, while the attitude remained rebellious. Of course something so deeped in the Zeitgeist wasn't meant to last. Wüste moved to New York, Micheline stayed in Zurich, both still active in the music scene to this day.

Sven Regener, head of the band Element of Crime and one of Germany's most successful pop writer said a few years ago when asked if he knew of any Swiss music: "Of course! In 1983, a Swiss band called Aboriginal Voices played with us at a festival in Zurich. Great, avant-garde electro-pop. That was my first encounter."

If you ever saw them live, you never forgot them, and so over the years you belonged to a teeny-tiny circle of insiders, happy to be joined after all these years by new aficionados who appreciate the sound of that quarter-hour, when Zurich was ravishing, creative and exciting.

- Thomas Haemmerli

repressed !

***Taken from Leaked Whatsapp messages between DJ Absolutely Shit and Il Bosco***

Yo cousin Bosco...how's ya raisin widge?

Nice one for that last lot of dough i'm starting to well buzz off all this music industry bollocks now you know...mad what you can do with a catchy DJ name and pure absolutely mega tunes wot are miles better than anyone elses init?

Anyway i've been diggin' me fuckin' 'ed off ant I recently and got some more well primo gear for yas here...done 8 this time - was thinking if i'm managing to sort me life out banging out EPs for yas - if I do and album or two i'll be mega wedged in no time deffo init.

Yeah i'm thinking fuck this i need to get out this rank shit-hole quicktime... spotted this sick 3 bed thatched cottage gaff in Cadishead the other day, well smart. Detached n everything G, so can deffo get a proper grow on in there piece of piss. Gran's doin me ed in n all here G, big style the old slapper. She keeps robbin' me cash!
Turn me back for 5 mins and she's fuckin chonged it all the little turd... fuckin fuming ta fuck g cant wait to do one from that shitty flat...and if she thinks she's keeping me dodgy sky box she suck me widge haha.

Anyway shout me soon init. fuck knows what to call this album g. ask Pharaoh to come up with a name for it the turd. i can't be arsed thinkin... Seen him the other day actually bumped into him and that Crispy Duck guy who does those sick comics. They was outside some posh coffee gaff in Ancoats with a few other chumps lobbing bricks at a pile of other bricks down near the canal drinking pink hooch the turds. Get em to do the artwork for it n all g. if they want paying or owt tell 'em to suck me widge haha.

Nice one

Pure Adult are a Brooklyn-based experimental rock duo formed
by Jeremy Snyder and Bianca Abarca. At the centre of their
music is the far-left political ethos and DIY attitude the pair
share.
Having grown up in the unusually sheltered environment of a
church-turned-cult, Snyder has always found himself drawn to
the harsh, dissonant music that was off-limits during his
formative years. In 2017, he and contemporary dancer and
visual artist Bianca Abarca formed Pure Adult, who released
their debut EP, ‘Pure Adult I’, in 2019. Now they are set to
release their debut album, ‘II’, on FatCat Records.
After leaving the church in 2007, Jeremy began studying
religion, philosophy and politics whilst working as a sound
engineer. “I ended up touring with some small pop rock bands,
while my studies brought me through an array of beliefs and a
far-left political worldview. While I’ve identified as a communist
for almost 20 years now, I didn’t fully give up on religious belief
until around 2010. A fundamental element to our belief system
was this sort of unverifiable feeling that must be something and,
because I’ve experienced that feeling, virtually nothing can
make me deny it. And it’s comforting, in a world of quantifiable
uncertainty, a guise of certainty,” he says.
In more recent years, Jeremy has become the engineer of
choice to internationally acclaimed acts such as Mdou Moctar
and IDLES, both of whom are big fans of Pure Adult. IDLES
lead singer Joe Talbot says of the band’s forthcoming album:
“Pungent chaos that serves no pomp, instead it throws around
dark innuendo like a rag doll to the cadence of fury and fucking.
The best album I’ve heard in ages. The best band you haven’t
seen. Go dig, it’s beautiful at its worst.”
As well as the release of their debut album at the start of 2023,
Pure Adult are also preparing to release a collaborative EP with
Gustaf, Thank and Heavy Lungs in the Spring. They will support
Gilla Band on tour in the US early next year.
“Blown-out, hyperactive, aggressive, and danceable rock
informed by punk and post-punk.” - Brooklyn Vegan
“A furious piece of work” - Steve Lamacq, 6 Music

White Vinyl

The Pretty Reckless haben dem Rock 'n' Roll den nötigen Schwung für eine neue Generation gegeben, und sie haben es auf ihre ganz eigene Weise geschafft. Seit 2008 haben sie sich als die ungewöhnlichste Naturgewalt entpuppt, die in INTERVIEW Magazine, Nylon, ELLE, Good Morning America und Entertainment Tonight erscheinen kann - und sich eine Bühne mit Guns N' Roses und Soundgarden teilt. Zusammen mit dem verstorbenen Produzenten Kato Khandwala entfachten sie diese Flamme auf Light Me Up 2010 und Going To Hell 2014. Letzteres enthielt drei Nummer-1-Hits - das Platin-zertifizierte "Heaven Knows" (der größte Rocksong des Jahres 2014), "Fucked Up World" und "Follow Me Down". Nach "Who You Selling For" von 2016 stieg "Take Me Down" auf Platz 1 der US Mainstream Rock Songs Chart und machte die Band laut Billboard zur "ersten Band, die ihre ersten vier Singles auf Platz 1 der Charts schickte". Im Jahr 2021 wurden sie mit dem Album "Death By Rock and Roll" in den Himmel gehoben. Die vierköpfige Band ging in die Geschichte ein als "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die zwei Mal hintereinander auf Platz 1 der aktiven Rock-Charts stand" und "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die sieben Mal auf Platz 1 der Billboard Rock Radio Charts stand". Das Album wurde nicht nur vom V Magazine, Spin und anderen gelobt, sondern landete auch auf Platz 1 der Billboard Top Album Sales Chart. Bemerkenswert ist auch die Zusammenarbeit mit Legenden wie Matt Cameron und Kim Thayil von Soundgarden bei "Only Love Can Save Me Now" und Tom Morello von Rage Against the Machine bei "And So It Went". Diese Grenzenlosigkeit treibt "Other Worlds" [Fearless Records] an, wo sie ihre ersten richtigen akustischen Aufnahmen, unerwartete Covers und andere Neuinterpretationen abliefern und einmal mehr Neuland betreten.

The Pretty Reckless haben dem Rock 'n' Roll den nötigen Schwung für eine neue Generation gegeben, und sie haben es auf ihre ganz eigene Weise geschafft. Seit 2008 haben sie sich als die ungewöhnlichste Naturgewalt entpuppt, die in INTERVIEW Magazine, Nylon, ELLE, Good Morning America und Entertainment Tonight erscheinen kann - und sich eine Bühne mit Guns N' Roses und Soundgarden teilt. Zusammen mit dem verstorbenen Produzenten Kato Khandwala entfachten sie diese Flamme auf Light Me Up 2010 und Going To Hell 2014. Letzteres enthielt drei Nummer-1-Hits - das Platin-zertifizierte "Heaven Knows" (der größte Rocksong des Jahres 2014), "Fucked Up World" und "Follow Me Down". Nach "Who You Selling For" von 2016 stieg "Take Me Down" auf Platz 1 der US Mainstream Rock Songs Chart und machte die Band laut Billboard zur "ersten Band, die ihre ersten vier Singles auf Platz 1 der Charts schickte". Im Jahr 2021 wurden sie mit dem Album "Death By Rock and Roll" in den Himmel gehoben. Die vierköpfige Band ging in die Geschichte ein als "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die zwei Mal hintereinander auf Platz 1 der aktiven Rock-Charts stand" und "die erste von einer Frau angeführte Band, die sieben Mal auf Platz 1 der Billboard Rock Radio Charts stand". Das Album wurde nicht nur vom V Magazine, Spin und anderen gelobt, sondern landete auch auf Platz 1 der Billboard Top Album Sales Chart. Bemerkenswert ist auch die Zusammenarbeit mit Legenden wie Matt Cameron und Kim Thayil von Soundgarden bei "Only Love Can Save Me Now" und Tom Morello von Rage Against the Machine bei "And So It Went". Diese Grenzenlosigkeit treibt "Other Worlds" Fearless Records an, wo sie ihre ersten richtigen akustischen Aufnahmen, unerwartete Covers und andere Neuinterpretationen abliefern und einmal mehr Neuland betreten.

Historically Fucked is a four way entanglement made to create short, eruptive songs and then set about obliterating them from the inside, like improvising a barrel to encase themselves in and then proceeding to lick their way out of it. It is about playing and laughing at playing, and it is about not doing either of those things sometimes. Sometimes it is to do with talking, howling or grunting, and sometimes it is to do with hitting and rubbing.
Historically Fucked contains four people, who each share the same duties, and whose names in sequence are Otto Willberg, David Birchall, Greta Buitkuté and Alecs Pierce. They are from Manchester and often other places. Guitar, bass, drums and voices keenly jostle amid the group’s frenzy of spontaneous rock throttles. Some of these rampant exercises in avant are collected on ‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’, the band’s new album, released by Upset The Rhythm on February 3rd. This is the group’s first release since 2018’s mantlepiece staple ‘Aliven Wool’ (Heavy Petting). This is Rock and/or Roll as fertilizer, uncivilised and free, as if one were to imagine what the Plastic Ono Band would’ve hit upon if they had read ‘Riddley Walker’, the sound of an entire timeline of expression put back together back-to-front, misshapen and irradiated.

‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’ is not mere Sedentary Rock but Blasted Basalt, Frog worshipping cave-funk, harmolodic hullabaloo-wop, a musical game of “badger in the bag”. It is the sound of sacks crammed full of aggregate, a chimerical mind-meld, a seductive din that is to a hound dog in blue suede shoes what a raking of the dorsal fin with a fat marrow pinecone is to a pelican in the midst of being fired from the academy.

‘The Mule Peasants’ Revolt of 12,067’ by Historically Fucked was recorded by Rory Salter, mixed by Otto Willberg and mastered by Mikey Young. The liminally worrisome artwork was painted by John Cobweaver.

“They say these days that History is Fucked. Nothing ever dies but continues to rule the earth as an undead tyrant that cannot accept its own decomposition, look earwardly upon the dance of the proudly dead and decrepit!”

Vymethoxy Redspiders, Leeds 2022

With One Day, Fucked Up have delivered one of the most energizing and intricate albums of their career, a massive-sounding record that arrives in deceptively small confines. The Canadian hardcore legends have been known for their epic scale in the past, so it might be a surprise that Fucked Up’s sixth studio album is their shortest to date, written and recorded in the confines of one literal day (hence the title). Don’t mistake size for substance, though: The band’s sound has only gotten bigger, more hard-charging, with even denser thickets of melody. “I wanted to see what I could record in literally one day.” That singular idea came to mind for guitarist Mike Haliechuk in the closing months of 2019. Haliechuk got himself into a studio and proceeded to write and record the record’s ten tracks over three eight-hour sessions, reconnecting with the core the band’s songwriting essence in the process. Initially, Fucked Up vocalist Damian Abraham was also set to complete his vocals in similar fashion—that is, before the lockdowns of 2020 took place. As it turns out, the isolation yielded creative dividends, as Abraham returned to contributing lyrics as well for the first time since 2014’s Glass Boys. “It almost felt like it might be the last time I’d ever get to record vocals for anything,” Abraham says of the stakes he felt while putting his part to tape, before reflecting on how he approached the lyrical process: “What do I want to say to friends who aren’t here anymore? What do I want to say to myself?” Over swarms of tuneful noise that evoke Sonic Youth circa Daydream Nation, Abraham lets loose on gentrification in “Lords of Kensington,” which was inspired by an “incredible” Toronto neighborhood that was regularly subject to life-ruining police surveillance and structural violence. “The police chief during that era he just opened a cannabis store,” Abraham explains. “It’s so cynical and gross, what society has come to but by being in a band, we’re culpable in changing the neighborhood, too, since the punk spaces and cool happenings that pop up are part of gentrification. Are you building a culture? Or are you ruining something that’s already been there?” Then there’s the dusky burn of “Cicada,” a sonic cousin to Dose Your Dreams’ excellent standout “The One I Want Will Come for Me” that features Haliechuk taking lead-vocal duty. The song is dedicated to lost friends, and in his words, it’s about “what life is like after you lose people, and our responsibility to carry them forward into the future, using the things they taught us as a light. I like to imagine the sound of cicadas as a metaphor for our strange life in the subculture we all just live these weird little hidden lives under the dirt, and then once in a generation, one of us gets to bust out of the dirt and intone their song so loud that it can be heard all over.” One Day is an undeniable work of confidence from a band that continues to operate at the top of their game, making music that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime and beyond.

‘Questionably a hardcore band’ is how Daddy’s Boy describe themselves, and one listen to their discombobulatingly brilliant debut LP should answer all your questions as to what that could possibly mean. Recorded with Steve Albini at Electrical Audio, GREAT NEWS! is the sound of punk folding in on itself and racing through sounds you might have previously identified with dumb genre tags like post-punk and possibly even no-wave - except this isn’t either of those things. It rages smartly and discordantly across a wide terrain of undulating rhythms and coruscating rifferema, eventually settling on something that’s… well, kinda uniquely Daddy’s Boy. So what makes this sound? Specifically, four humans who are too clever to simply follow the ‘three chords, now form a band’ template without trying to fuck up the corners (and work their way into the centre). Members of Split Feet, Retreaters and Fake Limbs pile up together to create this delicious cacophony, and you’ll be glad they did. When vocalist Jes Skolnik intones, “I’m so fucking important,” you know it’s drenched in venomous irony, but it’s difficult not to agree: GREAT NEWS! feels like a record that’ll last way beyond those ‘best of the year’ lists and continue to pulverise your eardrums for years to come. It’s the sort of record that felt like the future when Touch & Go Records pushed hardcore past its knuckleheaded limitations 40 years ago, and still feels like no one ever really caught up. It’s the riffs from Cows’ Cunning Stunts, cribbing notes from Crass’ Feeding Of The 5,000, with vocal delivery pitched to ‘gloriously matter-of-fact’. Oh, and no spoilers, but in Skolnik, Daddy’s Boy might just have one of the smartest lyricists in (questionable) hardcore right now. Mark my words, this is some record. Will Fitzpatrick

Some cities just know how to produce bands by the bucketload. Take Detroit, for instance: we don’t need to rattle through a full list or anything, but safe to say that if your town has given the world the likes of Motown, Derrick May and J Dilla - before we even start to think about The Stooges et al - then you could be forgiven for thinking there must be something in the water round those parts. So whaddya say? Should we get to know two more fine exponents of melodic wonder from the Motor City? Only seems fair. This split LP between citymates The Stools and Toeheads certainly isn’t a letdown as far as the illustrious company of their forebears goes. In fact, it’s a fast-paced thrill ride that oscillates between hip-shaking rock’n’roll swing and bone-shaking hardcore energy. You might already be familiar with The Stools thanks to their ludicrously addictive Feelin’ Fine 7”, which dropped via Drunken Sailor (hey, those guys sound familiar…) early in 2021. If you though that short EP was a good time, wait ‘til you see what they’ve got in store here: right out of the gate, opener Dead Man’s Ford smashes the devil-toed boogie of the MC5 at their slinkiest into the teeth-clenched intensity of Negative Approach (and that’s a pretty decent John Brannon-style roar they deliver too). They maintain this quality and velocity across their side, which is brilliant. There’s no let-up from Toeheads either - their side of this split sounds like someone revved up The Gun Club and aimed fireworks inside their exhaust. This is the sound you always knew you were working towards when you got into this rock’n’roll business; guitars blazing, lungs bursting, a wall of sound collapsing while we all dance in the debris. Does it sound like anything new? Fuck no, but that’s not the point. Much like The Stools, there’s nothing you can say about Toeheads that can’t be summarised with the phrase ‘total exhilaration’. So there you have it. Another compelling case for Detroit as home to the finest sounds around, put forth by two young bands who make playing loud, fast and dumb sound easy. Call it conviction, call it chutzpah… hell, call it talent if you want, I ain’t gonna stop you. But chiefly, call it a fucking good time and put the damn record on. This slays. Will Fitzpatrick.

A deranged cacophony straight out of London, England. On their debut, self-titled release, VIOLIN blend elements of Swedish masters TOTALITÄR and HEADCLEANERS with the muscle and swagger of Boston 82 and the panicked power of NYHC in the mid 80s. The end result is a Mind numbingly fast and concise pure hardcore punk that is all together contemporary, edging in at times on the learned idiocy of Toronto’s S.H.I.T. VIOLIN is the brainchild of Lindsay Corstorphine (SAUNA YOUTH, MONOTONY, PRIMITIVE PARTS etc) who has written, mixed and recorded everything on this stellar release, with the exception of the drums, here carried out by the inimitable Jonah Falco of FUCKED UP fame. Pinning Falco’s drumming to Corstorphine's vision has nailed a sound which is at once huge and perfectly audible, whilst remaining brutal and ugly in tone. There are moments of genuine innovation on display as is evident on the track ‘Empty Mind’ which begins with discordant noise, before building from a mid-paced swing into frantic lunacy, and then introducing a harrowing and unexpected synthesiser. The stark black and white artwork, carried out by Daniel David Freeman, provides a perfectly abstract and menacing back drop to this slab of primitive hardcore.

500 on clear vinyl - Pitch Shifter ‘The 1990 Demo’ - Agent provocateurs who prophetically foreshadowed the Brexit debacle with their 1999 release ‘Un-United Kingdom”. Spanning a career of over 30 years, the band released ten albums, toured 30 countries, were featured on the covers of Kerrang! and Metal Hammer magazines, recorded Peel Sessions, won Kerrang! awards, had their music featured on video games, on tv shows and in Hollywood films, played main stages at Reading, Ozzfest, Vans Warped Tour and the Big Day out Festivals, were featured in 2000AD Magazine with Judge Dredd and fucked a lot of shit up along the way! Here for the first time, the band release their original demo, previously unreleased and unavailable to the general public. The original audio has been enhanced and the vinyl includes a revisited track, that did not feature on the original release ‘Behemoth’, with vocals recorded by M D Clayden. The demo landed the band their first record deal in 1990 with Peaceville Records, where the band then forged these tracks into their critically acclaimed debut ‘Industrial’.

More than one of Jack's many nicknames, Zagg is also a shout out to her
uncanny ability to select an unanticipated word or musical flourish, her
disarming poetic acumen, her ability to zoom in and out at lightning
speed and spin a phrase into a mantra, or the opposite of a mantra
Each song on this record is its own unique little world, keeping a listener
delightfully off-kilter throughout the entire affair.
Opening track 'FMK' operates likes a sonic thesis statement. For a quiet moment,
Jackie's confessing her recurring mother-in-law dreams and initiating a suddendeath round of Fuck Marry Kill. Then on a dime she somersaults into rocket-pop
posture, ready to cut loose and head to the movies with her best boogie- boy:
'Let's go to the movies and dance a little…you can share my Twizzler…Let's go to
the movies, you can dance at the movies!!!' The charging, industrial pop of 'Get
Out' is augmented with punching strings that are both lovely and foreboding. In
the lithe, Rickie Lee Jones-nodding 'Yesterday's Baby,' a giant foot-shaped cloud
looms in the mouth- shaped sky and Jackie gets microscopic — 'Why don't you
just let it burn out/Toss that glass of wine out/Stamp that Camel Light out/Shut
your mouth up shut up your mouth.' After a few more dances, deep diaphragmatic
breaths, and Blood on the Tracks winking ballads, knock-out marathon track 'Keep
Runner' gives it straight to some Wile E. Coyote tomfool who's out getting his butt
blown up again." The energy of the record, I think, comes from finding out Patti
Smith didn't make Horses until she was 29. Extremely influential Wiki experience.
Oh, and Adam Green, my all- time favorite songwriter and artist, painted me
looking like a doctrinal seer peering into a cartoon mirror for the cover.
Pressed on Transparent Yellow color vinyl.