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Finally, it's here: the new Kettel! And we certainly know we're on the Kettel estate: the delicate melodies, complex orchestrations, and the crisp sound design offer familiar musicality. The new Kettel hasn't skimped on ideas and details, and each track opens a courtyard that rewards surrender and attention--we want to linger there. One thing is clear from Dubio: if you thought you'd heard all of Kettel by now, you're mistaken. In the new Kettel, doubt (dubio in Latin) and dissonance have also become part of the beauty--and in doing so, it breathes more character and liveliness than ever.

Music possesses an incredible ability to transform raw emotion into an expansive array of expression. Nackley knows this ideation well. Having spent years working behind the scenes as an agent, Bordello’s latest discovery now steps fully into the spotlight with Anger Management, channeling the turbulence of transition into sound.

Cathartic and charged compositions are at the heart of this four-track release. Acid-dipped keys are both delicate and direct in the driving highs of Return of the Gecko, a track pulsing with raw energy. The crueler side of the music industry isn’t so much parodied here as it is dismissed entirely—Nackley lets the music do the talking. Sublime Desolation is pure dancefloor dynamite, where synth sirens detonate and explosive rhythm commands movement.

Been A Long Time arrives dripping in attitude. Breaks and a juddering bassline face off with a hustling 303 hook, harmonies weaving through deep sonic textures. A renewed confidence courses through the release as Nackley explores a range of styles, closing with the synth romance of Heartbreaker—an addictive blend of keyboards, guitar strings, and enveloping vocals are the emotive ingredients of this tear-streaked work of 1980s-inspired joy.
And joy is exactly what Anger Management delivers—a healing triumph and a bold debut declaration from a rising talent.

During the pandemic, The Ophelias transformed uncertainty into Spring Grove, their fourth album and most dynamic offering yet. Named after a Cincinnati cemetery, the album blends nostalgia with fresh perspective, reflecting on themes of relationships, identity, and power dynamics. Singer-songwriter Spencer Peppet draws from her OCD diagnosis during the pandemic and the clarity that comes with growing older, resulting in lyrics that explore the cracks and complexities of human connection.

Produced by Julien Baker, who adds lush textures and harmonies, Spring Grove marks a turning point in the band’s evolution. Recorded at Young Avenue Sound in Memphis, the album centers on the core quartet—Peppet, violinist Andrea Gutmann Fuentes, bassist Jo Shaffer, and drummer Mic Adams—with arrangements that balance cinematic intensity and delicacy. Gutmann Fuentes’s violin provides striking countermelodies, while Shaffer’s bass lines, inspired by doom metal, explore melodic depth. Adams’s drumming reflects his first project after transitioning, offering nuanced rhythms that blend power and tenderness.

With one queer and two trans members, the band has moved beyond the reductive label of an “all-girl” group, delving deeply into themes of womanhood and identity. Tracks like “Salome” and “Parade” examine power dynamics and friendship, while nature imagery in songs like “Cumulonimbus” and “Vulture Tree” mirrors lived experience. Across 13 tracks, the album’s cinematic and introspective journey scavenges the past for meaning, ultimately embracing transformation. On the closing track, “Shapes,” Peppet reaches serene acceptance, singing, “I see what’s coming after... a reflection in the water. I am rippling forever.”

Spring Grove captures the band’s evolution, offering a transcendent meditation on self-awareness, identity, and growth, leaving listeners with a sense of profound discovery.

Every so often an album of such deceptive genius, of such aesthetic clarity, comes across our desk and transfixes us. Thought Leadership's III Of Pentacles is one such work of art. It's an instant classic and glides into the pantheon of timeless guitar-soul totems. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Thought Leadership has already garnered big support from such tastemakers as Ruf Dug, Jason Boardman, Nathan Gregory Wilkins, J Walk, Evan Woodward, Justin Robertson and Heavenly's Jeff Barrett. The first time we heard III Of Pentacles, we nearly wept at the thought that something so beautiful, so bursting with real hope, could even exist in this brutal world. To quote the Quietus, "imagine if Stockport was situated somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway rather than the M60, and you’ll have some idea of the coordinates to the post-industrial, sunburnt dream space opened up here."

So, who is Thought Leadership? What do we know about them? They reside in Stockport and are obsessed with ethereal guitar records. That’s about it. That and these X ideas shared with you, the listener.

Captured on a multitrack recorder in a terraced house in Stockport, this is as DIY as it gets. Glaringly obvious is a love for classic Factory and early 4AD. Perhaps it is the proximity to the River Mersey where the ideas arrived, and there being but three miles between where this and the Durutti Column’s classic “LC” was recorded, as the two operate across a familiar aural plain. Be it geographic or otherwise, limited by a true economy of means, namely guitar, pedals and drum machine, the fruit borne from these humble tools has been indelibly shaped by the perma-gloom that hangs low over the Manchester and Stockport environs.

Ushered in on 808 kicks, “I” opens the record as a beautiful Sketch for Stockport; a chiming maj7 chord dripping in chorus and delay sets us on our way. The Vini Reilly comparisons are unavoidable. “II” is all John McGeoch, with its trippy goth-psyche arpeggiated pattern cascading across the stereo image. Do those drums swing? But goths don’t swing?! They do here. We’re treated to a bit of crunch on the lead guitar part and some really lush reverb. We even step forth into shoegaze territory, albeit briefly, for the middle eight. “III”, a firm Be With favourite, continues the dreamy psyche leanings of the previous track, with an even bigger melody this time. We’re hearing The Teardrop Explodes on quaaludes here. A proto-dream pop cut soaked in melancholy. But watch out! The coda finds Johnny Marr has gotten into the ‘ludes and gatecrashed the final bars with some incredibly ignorant B minor pentatonic noodling.

“IV” ditches the drum machine for the first in a suite of three beatless electric guitar duets. The first of these semi-improvised rubato ideas is a striking departure from the earlier playful pieces, coming over emo and moody. Greyscale sulking for Stratocaster. Sign us up. “V” contains some really lyrical phrasing; a gorgeous conversation between two guitars. Real Stopfordian Primitive; meditative, crude, rain-soaked. We cycle through the same feels, then end on an alluring chord that breaks the pattern. Sometimes thoughts are like this. “VI” creeps in all plaintive, then a huge reverberating descending guitar line comes tumbling in like something off those classic Dif Juz 12”s. There’s some Maurice Deebank in there too, for sure, and the coda nods to early Meat Puppets.

“VII” rounds out the A Side, and succinctly presents a summary of all ideas explored thus far on our journey. The drum machine is back, this time with some wispy delay, before both guitars enter together playing interlocking lines. As we start, we end, with the delayed 808 guiding us out.

Opening Side B, “VIII” sees us embark on the other side of our journey as we slow down and space out. The drum machine is here, but the guitars are different now. Think Sensations Fix or Göttsching at his most peeled out. Drones, ambient drifts of broken chords and distorted lead lines all swirl round the mix. Side B is one for headphones for sure. “IX” is almost too exquisite for words. A New Age Mixolydian voyage through the cosmos. If you’re unmoved by the end you’ve probably got no pulse. We were left blunted ineffable by this one, such is the smudged elegance radiating from this idea. All hail the Thought Leader.

“X” is a full circle moment, and a fitting end. If you’ve not already elsewhere across the platter, you will be getting heavy Robin Guthrie vibes from this piece. Like the rest of Side B, this improvised jam sticks within a framework of related chords but the celestial energies channelled might invite us to wander “outside”, especially when the Tubescreamer is engaged.

RIYL Durutti Coulmn, Cocteau Twins, Dif Juz, Sensations Fix, Spike and adjacent guitar musicks – but, ultimately, this is just its own thing; such is the strength of ideas presented. "It’s good music to chill out to." (??)

Be With is honoured to present the first ever vinyl release of III Of Pentacles, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With. Its stark presentation befits the music contained within. They inform us that they shuffled their tarot deck to ask what the album should be called and the card you see on the cover popped out. The III Of Pentacles tarot card represents teamwork, shared vision and the ability to achieve goals through collaboration. We like to think Thought Leadership and Be With have nailed this one.

On July 10th, 2019, POISON IDEA played their very last show in France. The setlist was chosen by friend, fan and birthday boy, Ed. 15 songs covering the band's entire history. At this point of the tour the band was as tight as a machine, and it shows.

POISON IDEA’s momentum hasn’t slowed down one bit; this is still their brand of loud, potent powerthrash. Slightly more metal than in the past but the accent here is on the force and fury. Scorching. Each song on War All the Time flows into the other in a natural sequence for maximum impact and the whole thing blows over before you know it, but everything stays in your head, banging against the walls of your frontal bone. All this makes a good album, but what turns War All the Time into an amazing album are the lyrics and their delivery. Jerry A took the negative side of the world around him and expressed it in detail, rendered with words that can be read in a universal manner, expressing everything trivial and worthy of our puke in a language better suited to talk about the beauty of life. And those words remain as true to this day as the band’s riffs are brutal.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

“On course towards future raucous, beer-soaked headline festival
sets.” - NME
“Screw-you power, relentless motorik rhythms and impressively large
choruses.” - The Guardian
“Unrelenting, gritty energy” - Daily Star
Sprints unearth their frenzied new EP, ‘Manifesto’, out via Nice Swan
Records.
Produced by Daniel Fox of Girl Band - Dublin’s answer to Steve Albini
- the four tracks make for a hard-hitting gloom-punk journey you
can’t miss. Like the Irish guitar acts who have paved the way for
them - Fontaines D.C., Silverbacks and Girl Band - Sprints sound
urgent and vital at every turn.
‘Swimming’ is a confluence of rabble-rousing stadium rock, sleazy
garage rock and Sonic Youth experimentation. Lyrically, there’s a lot
to hang on to too, which is unsurprising given how topical the band
are: ‘Drones’ took on imposter syndrome; ‘Manifesto’ tackled
homophobia.
‘Swimming’ scorns on the increasing lack of opportunity after
following prescribed paths to become society’s idea of a ‘success’.
Sprints singer Karla Chubb explains: “While the homeless crisis
worsens, the city is sinking in debt and everyone can barely keep
their heads above water, you see an article stating that a new €25
million white water rafting centre is being developed after approval
by Dublin City Council. Sometimes you’d just rather drown.”
Sprints have hit a nerve. The velocity of this argument comes from
personal anguish but will chime with a generation. And with such
honesty running through their core it’s no wonder The Guardian,
NME and BBC Radio 1 and 6Music have tipped them for big things.
Tourdates - October 7 Roisin Dubh Galway, 8 Kasbah Limerick, 9 The
Grand Social Dublin, 21 The Waiting Room London, 23 Heartbreakers
Southampton, 26 Sneaky Pete’s Edinburgh, 27 The Attic Glasgow, 28 The
Castle Manchester, 30 The Sunflower Lounge Birmingham, 31 Bootleg Social
Blackpool, November 2 Surf Cafe Newcastle, 3 Sidney & Matilda Sheffield, 6
Mutations Festival Brighton, 7 Festival of Voice Cardiff, 9 The Shipping
Forecast Liverpool, 10 Oporto Leeds.

Produziert von Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Mannequin Pussy, etc.), der auch schon an der 2023er "Psychic Dance Routine" EP der Hardcore-Band Scowl aus Santa Cruz mitgewirkt hat, findet man auf "Are We All Angels" die giftige und antagonistische Band, die ihre Aggression durch eine expansivere Version ihrer selbst leitet. Das Album wurde von Rich Costey (Fiona Apple, My Chemical Romance, Vampire Weekend, etc.) gemischt. "Are We All Angels" ist geprägt von Entfremdung, Trauer und Kontrollverlust, und setzt sich größtenteils mit ihrem neu gefundenen Platz in der Hardcore-Szene auseinander, einer Gemeinschaft, die die Band in den letzten Jahren sowohl umarmt als auch zu einer Art Blitzableiter gemacht hat. Auf "Are We All Angels" erkunden Scowl auf Schritt und Tritt ehrgeizige neue Richtungen und verbiegen Genre-Normen. Sängerin Kat Moss macht die am unmittelbarsten erkennbare Entwicklung, indem sie einen strukturierteren und manchmal zarten Ansatz wählt. Sie spielt mit Harmonien und melodischem Feingefühl, das selbst die eingefleischtesten Scowl-Fans überraschen dürfte. Moss nennt eine breite Palette von Einflüssen außerhalb des harten Rock - alles von Billie Eilish bis Radiohead, Car Seat Headrest bis Julien Baker. "Die meisten von uns waren wirklich keine geübten Musiker, als die Band begann", gibt sie zu. "Es war in dieser Hinsicht sehr Germs-esque, wie die erste Hardcore-Band eines Babys, was großartig ist. Jetzt wissen wir vielleicht immer noch nicht, was wir tun, aber wir haben eine bessere Vorstellung davon, was wir tun wollen." Instrumental gibt die Band Einflüsse von Negative Approach, Bad Brains, Hole, Mudhoney, Garbage, Ramones, Pixies, Sonic Youth, Rocket From The Crypt und anderen an. Bassist Bailey Lupo merkt an: "Das Songwriting für die neue Platte war das bisher kollaborativste in der Geschichte von Scowl. Jeder hat so viele Ideen eingebracht, und wir konnten sie alle in Ruhe analysieren und uns Zeit nehmen. Wir haben alle so unterschiedliche Geschmäcker, Einflüsse und Persönlichkeiten, und das kann man auf diesem Album wirklich in jeder Ecke hören." Selbst durch diesen eklektischen Ansatz verlieren Scowl nichts von ihrer Schärfe und schaffen es immer noch, die Wut und Frustration zu vermitteln, die dahinter steckt. Sie sind zutiefst dem Ethos des Punk und seinem Gemeinschaftssinn verpflichtet. "Hardcore und Punk haben uns geprägt, wie wir arbeiten, was wir als Band tun wollen und wie wir uns beteiligen", sagt Greene. "Im Kern sind wir eine Punk- und Hardcore-Band, unabhängig davon, wie sich der Song verändert." Das Album wird von dem bereits veröffentlichten "Special" eröffnet, einen Song mit großer, hymnischer Energie, der die rohe Intensität von Scowl beibehält. Scowl haben sich schnell als einer der dynamischsten und fleißigsten Acts in der Rockszene etabliert und ausgiebig in den USA und international mit Bands wie Limp Bizkit, Destroy Boys, The Bronx, Militarie Gun, Show Me The Body, Zulu, Touche Amore, A Day To Remember, Speed, Sunami und vielen anderen getourt, sowie Festivalauftritte beim Coachella, Reading & Leeds, No Values, Outbreak, Primavera und Sick New World, um nur einige zu nennen, absolviert. Die Band - Malachi Greene (Gitarre), Bailey Lupo (Bass), Cole Gilbert (Schlagzeug), Mikey Bifolco (Gitarre) und Kat Moss (Gesang) - gründete sich 2019 und feierte 2021 mit ihrem Debütalbum "How Flowers Grow" ihren Durchbruch. Seitdem sind sie unaufhaltsam auf dem Vormarsch.

Buffet Lunch have been a band since 2017. They are a pop group formed of musicians based in Glasgow, Edinburgh and (sometimes) Newcastle. Described previously as a band that creates 'a hodgepodge of noises' who are 'lyrically ridiculous'. Both claims are strongly denied by the group.
Buffet Lunch have released 3 EPs & 2 LPs since 2019 and 6 months after self-releasing 'For Display Purposes Only' are back on Upset the Rhythm with their third album 'Perfect Hit!'
‘Perfect Hit!’ was recorded in the West Highlands, in the shadow of the UK’s Biggest Ben, during Leap Year week 2024. George Horler (Holy Loaf) joined the band as recording engineer along with new members Matthew Lord and Jack Shearer plus founding members Perry O’Bray & Luke Moran, to spend a week writing and creating the record. The majority of the record was completed in the studio, with as much recorded ‘live’ as possible and the week flew by, and we had such a lovely time we forgot to go on a walk. Most of the songs are new and only been played a few times live.
Lyrically, the album contains more deliberately personal lyrics than previous records, with several songs addressing ancestry and becoming a parent (Quarrymen, Shoes, Blue Chairs). Elsewhere, the songs deal with thorny issues such as; identity & full face tattoos, hands, legs & a swordfish sighting (Perfect Hit), the importance of kindness (Blip), disgraced Presbyterian John Knox (Merchandise), a potentially disgraced sportsman featuring star turn from Beef Jerk front man Jack Randall Lee (King Conker) and historical consciousness via Wikipedia (List of Walls).
Musically, the aim (as ever) was to make an album which is as fun to listen to as it was to make. These are mostly playful pop songs with a focus on melody and hooks. There are approximately 40% more guitar chords featured on ‘Perfect Hit!’ than on previous records.

Nach zwei Jahren Solo-Tourneen präsentiert Yaron Herman sein neues Album. Er kehrt mit einem außergewöhnlichen Ensemble zurück und verbindet sich mit zwei der besten Saxophonisten der Welt: María Grand, ein aufsteigender, internationaler Star, und Alexandra Grimal, eine bedeutende Persönlichkeit der improvisierten Musik. Dieses Album nimmt uns mit auf die Suche nach Lyrik, Tiefe und Aufrichtigkeit, mit eleganten Melodien und kraftvollen Rhythmen, in einem Projekt, das sowohl spirituell als auch tief bewegend ist.

Als Yaron Herman mit der Arbeit an diesem Album begann, war das Erste, was ihm in den Sinn kam, die Melodie. Er habe in den letzten Jahren viel geschrieben, hauptsächlich in Notizbüchern, so der Künstler. Unterwegs oder zu Hause, alles von langen Zeilen bis zu kurzen Fragmenten. Mit der Zeit (und harter Arbeit) begannen diese "Motive" Gestalt anzunehmen und sich in "Lieder" zu verwandeln. Während er sie spielte und erkundete, was aus ihnen werden könnte, wurde klar, dass er nach einem Klang suchte, der nicht "nur" das Klavier war. Diese Melodien erforderten eine andere Stimme. Die Saxophonistinnen Maria Grand und Alexandra Grimal haben unterschiedliche Ansätze, doch beide haben eine geheimnisvolle, kraftvolle und lyrische Qualität, nach der gesucht wurde. Diese Qualitäten, kombiniert mit Haggai Cohen Milos wunderschönem Ton und rhythmischer Vielseitigkeit und dem Spiel und damit wertvollen Ideen von Herman's langjährigen musikalischen Bruders Ziv Ravitz während des gesamten Prozesses, ließen diese Lieder wirklich zum Leben erwachen. Im Studio hatte man das Glück, die Erfahrung und Perspektive des Produzenten Daniel Yvinec zu haben, der dazu ermutigte, die Musik weiter voranzutreiben und Risiken einzugehen. Improvisation: eine Suche nach dem Sweet Spot zwischen Freiheit und Zwang. Die Verspieltheit des Ganzen. Die Werkzeuge bereitstellen, aber nicht das endgültige Gebäude, die Leinwand bereitstellen, aber nicht vorschreiben, was darauf gemalt werden soll. So ist 'Radio Paradise' entstanden. Man ist im Studio auf den Titel gestoßen während einer Diskussion, wie sich Gegensätze ergänzen und wie die Rolle als Künstler darin besteht. Zu versuchen, das scheinbar Widersprüchliche in Einklang zu bringen. Den Raum zu finden, in dem Musik mühelos und aus dem Herzen fließt.

Stille kann entweder Ruhe oder Stagnation bedeuten. Walt McClements hat sich mit diesen gegensätzlichen Kräften auseinandergesetzt, um "On a Painted Ocean" zu realisieren: eine Suite von Akkordeon und Pfeifenorgel geleiteten Stücken, die einen stetigen Kurs verfolgen, anschwellen und sich mit einer Flut von zarten Emotionen erweitern. Der Komponist und Multiinstrumentalist hat den Titel seines zweiten Albums von Samuel Taylor Coleridges berühmtem Epos "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" und dessen Beschreibung eines Bootes, das auf See feststeckt ("As idle as a painted ship / Upon a painted Ocean"). Es ist ein Eindruck, der sowohl den Prozess als auch das Produkt von McClements' Western Vinyl Veröffentlichung widerspiegelt, vom sanften Entfalten eines rauen Schilfrohrtons im Opener ,A Painted Ship" bis hin zum düsteren, mit Effekten beladenen Drone von "Washed Up" und dem abschließenden Flattern und Signalstörungen, die sich in ,Clattering" geräuschvoll zu triumphaler Euphorie erheben. "On a Painted Ocean" ist das Ergebnis eines Zusammenflusses von Ereignissen und Inspirationen, die sich verändert haben wie das Wetter selbst. Die ersten Skizzen begannen mit dem unerwarteten Zugang zu einer Kirchenorgel in Pasadena im Jahr 2022, bevor diese Skizzen zur Seite gelegt wurden, um sich auf ein arbeitsreiches Jahr als Mitglied der Live-Band von Weyes Blood vorzubereiten. Die Monate im Tourbus mit begrenzten Instrumenten veranlassten McClements dazu, den Klang seines bearbeiteten Akkordeons auf dem Synthesizer nachzubilden, und überlagerte ihn mit den Orgelstücken. Als dieser Zyklus zu Ende ging, war McClements begierig darauf die Platte zu beenden, war sich aber nicht sicher, wie er den Faden wieder aufnehmen sollte. Festgefahren in der Flaute einer kreativen Blockade, nahm McClements seine Spuren von bearbeiteten Akkordeons und Synthesizern, Pfeifenorgel und Melodica, Zungen und Pfeifen, die durch Pedale und Computer laufen, in seine ehemalige Heimat New Orleans zum Karneval mit. Nachdem er ein Jahrzehnt in der Stadt in Louisiana gelebt hatte, bevor er nach Los Angeles zog, fand McClements in einer der ekstatischsten und bedeutungsvollsten Zeiten des Jahres neue Inspiration. Das Ethos der Kunst um der Gemeinschaft willen und die Praktiken der Fürsorge inspirierten ihn den Rat seiner Musikerkollegin und Mentorin Rachika Nayar zu befolgen und Mitstreiter einzubeziehen, darunter auch Nayar selbst, die eine zusätzliche Produktion zu ,Sirens" beisteuert. Aurora Nealand, eine alte Freundin und ehemalige Bandkollegin, antwortete ebenfalls auf den Ruf und fügte Saxophon zu den unruhigen Gewässern von ,Cloud Prints" und ,Parade" hinzu. Der letztgenannte Track ist der klangliche und konzeptionelle Höhepunkt auf McClements' Reise zur Verwirklichung von "On a Painted Ocean", wo eine steigende Tonhöhe und aufgewühlte Segel auf eine Feldaufnahme von Community Care treffen. Ein Verdienst von starken Beziehungen und gegenseitiger Unterstützung, das Album zeichnet als eine persönliche Pilgerreise auf - die Anpassung an die Gezeiten und die Erinnerung daran, dass die Gemeinschaft helfen kann, wenn man sich auf dem Meer festgefahren fühlt.

Gold Vinyl

2025 Repress in Arctic Pearl Vinyl
Alles fließt, nichts bleibt wie es ist. Diese philosophische Erkenntnis gilt auch für das dritte Studioalbum der aufstrebenden niederländischen Rockband DOOL. Der treffende Titel "The Shape of Fluidity" zielt keineswegs nur auf die musikalische Innovation. Sondern das Album dreht sich um Themen wie persönlicher Wandel, physische Veränderung, psychologische Weiterentwicklung und die sich erneuernde Welt um uns herum. DOOL und insbesondere Sänger/in und Gitarrist/in Raven van Dorst stellen Fragen: Wie wirkt sich der Wandel auf uns aus? Wie bleiben wir uns selbst in einer Welt treu, die so unglaublich herausfordernd und aggressiv gegenüber dem Individuum ist? Wir müssen so fließend wie Wasser sein, um in diesem Ozean von Möglichkeiten und Ungewissheiten erfolgreich zu navigieren - und Frieden mit Chaos und Unbeständigkeit zu schließen. Musikalisch setzen DOOL den auf den beiden vorangegangenen Studioalben eingeschlagenen Weg fort, der emotionale Rockmusik mit Elementen aus dem Metal kombiniert. Dabei demonstrieren die Niederländer eine auffällige Reife und Kontrolle im Songwriting, die aus Jahren der Erfahrung gewachsen sind. "The Shape of Fluidity" zeigt eine eklektische, aber nahtlose Verschmelzung von Progressive und Post-Rock sowie Doom und Heavy Metal, die mit einer stets präsenten Eingängigkeit und hintergründigen Dynamik kombiniert sind. Es ist offenkundig, dass sich das Album thematisch mit dem Konzept der Identität vor dem Hintergrund einer sich ständig verändernden Welt befasst. Die Texte des Albums sind eng mit der Biografie von Leadsänger/in Raven verknüpft. Von Geburt an intersexuell, entschieden die Ärzte chirurgisch, dass der Säugling als Mädchen durchs Leben gehen solle. Dies führte zu einer Existenz auf der Suche nach der eigenen Seele, dem Kampf gegen Tabus und die Überschreitung von Grenzen, bis Raven vor kurzem beschloss, das zurückzufordern, was andere versuchten hatten, ihnen wegzunehmen - und ihre hermaphroditische Natur zu akzeptieren. Der Bandname DOOL leitet sich vom niederländischen Wort für "Wandern" ab. Bereits das im Jahr 2017 erschienene Debütalbum "Here Now, There Then" landete einen sofortigen Volltreffer. Der frisch-wilde Rock- und Metalsound aus den Niederlanden wurde von den renommierten deutschen Magazinen Metal Hammer und Rock Hard zum "Album des Monats" gekürt. Auch Vice (US), Aardschok (NL) und De Volkskrant (NL) überschütteten die junge Band mit Lob. Mit ihrem zweiten Album "Summerland", das 2020 erschien, übertrafen DOOL die ohnehin schon hochgesteckten Erwartungen. Es gab weitere "Album des Monats"-Auszeichnungen in den deutschen Magazinen Rock Hard (10/10) und Sonic Seducer sowie eine #2 Soundcheck-Position in Metal Hammer (DE) und Metal.de, und eine weitere #1 im polnischen Metal Hammer - mit einem Berg herausragender Kritiken auf beiden Seiten des Atlantiks. Mit "The Shape of Fluidity" bieten DOOL sehr viel mehr als nur verdammt coole Musik. Die zusätzlichen Dimensionen von Tiefe und Bedeutung sind Teil ihres einzigartigen Reizes und kommen auf dem neuen Album deutlich zum Vorschein. Mögen sich alle, die wandern, unter der fluiden Flagge von DOOL versammeln!

-sechstes Album der traditionellen Heavy- und Epic Metal Band -spezielles Vinylmastering, bedruckter Einleger -handgemaltes Coverartwork, authentische und druckvolle Produktion -Europatour im April 2025 Das neue Album der serbischen Band Claymorean mit dem Titel „Eternal Curse“ wird weltweit am 4. April über Golden Core/ZYX Records als LP erscheinen.

Es wurde zwischen Oktober 2024 und Januar 2025 von Claymorean und Boris urlan (Midnight Studio, Lazarevac) aufgenommen und produziert. Das atemberaubende Artwork wurde meisterhaft von Anton Atanasov (OldSchool Crew) handgemalt. Das neue Album stellt eine Zusammenarbeit der gesamten Band beim Songwriting, bei den Aufnahmen und beim Arrangieren dar - ein Meilenstein, der Vladimir Garčević, Gitarrist und Bandleader, ein Lächeln ins Gesicht zaubert: „Wir haben versucht, die Essenz unserer Live-Auftritte (unter anderem beim Keep It True Rising und Headbangers Open Air) einzufangen, und Boris hat uns wirklich hervorragend dabei geholfen, den Sound zu erreichen, den wir uns für dieses Album vorgestellt haben.“ Jeder Song auf „Eternal Curse“ fühlt sich an wie eine triumphale Kampfhymne für den Metal des 21. Jahrhunderts, geschaffen mit Überzeugung, Ehrlichkeit und Leidenschaft. “Wir feiern den Heavy Metal und die LP ist auch ein Tribut an unsere Helden und Fans dieses unsterblichen Genres.“ Vlad fügt hinzu: Wir haben es geschafft, auf jeder unserer Platten einen einzigartigen und unverwechselbaren Sound zu kreieren, während wir unserer Identität und künstlerischen Integrität treu geblieben sind. Keine Kompromisse!

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

Perlenfarbenes Vinyl. Die in Berlin ansässige Songwriterin und Produzentin Neva Demure präsentiert ihr Debütalbum Antidote. Antidote zeigt Nevas Entwicklung von experimentellen elektronischen Klängen zu einer reichen Vielfalt an Genres und verbindet Elemente, die sowohl Nostalgie als auch Neuheit hervorrufen. Das Album behandelt Themen wie Liebe, Identität und innere Konflikte und spiegelt Nevas persönliche Reise der Selbstfindung wider.

Die Berliner Post-Punk-Band The Underground Youth um den Musiker und Autor Craig Dyer meldet sich mit ihrem zwölften Studioalbum „Décollage“
zurück. Das von Dyer selbst geschriebene, aufgenommene und produzierte Album ist eine Übung in künstlerischer Dekonstruktion, sowohl im Namen
als auch in der Form, und markiert eine entscheidende musikalische Wende. „Décollage ist die Kunst, ein Bild zu erschaffen, indem man Teile eines
bereits existierenden Werks herausreißt, abreißt oder entfernt. Meine Idee war es, diese Technik auf die Musik anzuwenden“, erklärt er. „Ich baute
Wände aus statisch überzogenen Hip-Hop-Drum-Samples, Schichten von Streicherarrangements im Stil von Lee Hazlewood und von Serge Gainsbourg
inspirierten Mellotron-Melodien auf, dann begann ich, diese schönen, chaotischen Wände aus Lärm abzureißen und legte einen neuen Sound für The
Underground Youth frei.“
Von Momenten geisterhaften Minimalismus bis hin zu ausladenden Crescendos aus Lärm und Melodie haben die Songs hier eine schattenhafte,
traumhafte Qualität. Neben Dyer besteht The Underground Youth aus der Schlagzeugerin und bildenden Künstlerin Olya Dyer, dem Gitarristen
Leonard Kaage (der auch bei der Postproduktion des Albums mitwirkte) und der Bassistin Samira Zahidi. Ursprünglich als Soloprojekt von Dyer im Jahr
2008 gegründet, hat die Band inzwischen 11 - mittlerweile 12 - Studioalben und 4 EPs veröffentlicht und dabei einen einzigartigen Sound entwickelt,
der im Laufe der Jahre von cineastischer Lo-Fi-Psychedelia über rauen, melancholischen Post-Punk bis hin zu Gothic-Folk-Noir reichte.

With Umwelt, room, An’archives releases the first vinyl LP by Japanese singer, songwriter and guitarist, Kotonashiso. An elegant collection of seven slow-moving, free-ranging song forms, Umwelt, room is reflective, pensive, and yet has a great, expansive sense of movement, each song’s parameters feeling almost infinitely flexible.

Born in Tokyo in 1984, Kotonashiso began playing music in 2000. After taking a long break from making music between the years 2005 to 2016, he returned with renewed focus, and over the past eight years, he’s toured Japan and Europe, performing in venues, street performances and open mic events. Currently, Kotonashiso plays either solo, on in three separate duos, with Sou Mori, 泥, and Hideya Kyooka, respectively. He’s not released much music, as yet – a single, “in the cavern”, with Sou Mori, in 2021, and a soundtrack to Hiroki Nakajima’s solo exhibition, Ray, the following year.

All of this gives Umwelt, Room the feeling of a major statement, a debut shot across the void. The seven songs collected here were recorded in 2024, with a guiding principle, for Kotonashiso, being his desire to “imagine the time when people started recording blues and folk songs on analog records,” creating a ghost-like presence in the listener’s room. When talking about the songs on Umwelt, Room, Kotonashiso focuses on a number of concepts, such as prayer, tragedy, ‘the cycle of life’, and the disappearance of the gulf between fantasy and reality.

They’re songs with deep, rich resonance, performed without guile. You might be able to hear, at times, the fragility of fellow Japanese singer-songwriter Hisato Higuchi, or the bluesy touch of Loren Connors in the guitar. However, Kotonashiso’s aesthetic remit is wide, identifying with artists like Bill Callahan, Scout Niblett, Inukaze, and Tomoko Shimazaki, and sharing sympathies with “the psychedelic rock, avant-garde and ambient communities.” Ultimately, though, the pellucid, dream-like songs of Kotonashiso, somewhere between folk, pop and blues, sit, disarmed and lovely, within their own universe.