Brussels-based composer Valerie Leclercq has been recording as Half Asleep for the best part of twenty years. Although essentially Valerie's brainchild, there is assistance from like-minded friends who allow her unique vision to be brought to fruition.
Having hooked-up as a low-key instrumental explorer super-duo of sorts in recent years -- under the moniker of Whin – the Glasgow-based Martin John Henry (De Rosa, Jewel Scheme, Henry and Fleetwood) and Robert Dallas Gray (Life Without Buildings, Even Sisters) unpack themselves again for near-simultaneously dispensed solo albums. Whilst both releases feature varying degrees of supportive intermingling from the pair, they plough determinedly divergent furrows.
Since the last Neurosis album back in 2016, Steve von Till has concentrated on his solo career, releasing seven solo albums, including this one, that continue to plumb the depths of Gothic-tinged Americana and explore his relationship with melody in ever increasing ways.
To a certain extent you know what to expect from a Loscil album, but somehow each outing is very different from the previous, the imagery specific to a set of ideas.
A militant-singleton serial killer, whose MO is to target couples on Valentine’s Day, makes the mistake of picking on a pair of work colleagues (who are just friends, no honestly, definitely not going to fall in love by the end, no way) in this farcically fun mixture of horror and romcom.
The constant state of evolution for Constellation Records is a wonderful thing. As they approach their thirtieth anniversary, the label continues to release essential albums from doyens of the Canadian underground that cover all musical styles. post-classical chamberHere we have two very different string-oriented releases that use the post-classical chamber genre as a starting point
Five years after his thematically interesting and thoroughly gripping adaptation of the story of The Invisible Man, Leigh Whannell returns to Universal Studios’ pool of classic monsters, only to find that someone’s clogged up the plughole with hair again.
Running to over an hour and spread over eight tracks, Henke allows the repetitive nature of the techno-oriented beats to run without boundaries, but the electronic details and evocative atmospheres are what make the album something which piques the curiosity.
...it’s also Desertfest weekend, so I’m off to sunny Camden Town to see the world’s finest collection of Orange amps and hear some of the finest crushingly loud music available.
With the addition of Marc Sarrazy on piano for one section and Loïc Schild on drums and metallophone for the other, the initial idea transformed into something more abstract and ritualistic; an ever-evolving widescreen sweep that sets various textures against a desert wind backdrop.
As the schemer-in-chief, Benicio del Toro’s stone face is a perfect vehicle for Anderson’s deadpan style of humour, and his capacity to straddle even the thickest borders between good and evil, nasty and nice, callous and ingenuous, allows him to play with the darker tone of his director’s latest verbose, and unusually action-packed, screenplay.
Bassist and composer Vilhelm Bromander has reconvened the players from 2023's In This Forever Unfolding Moment and they are now trading as The Unfolding Orchestra, taking the previous ideas and extending them, creating four very different long-form pieces that allow the talented musicians to play against one another and push themselves a little bit further than the last release. There are a few changes of personnel, but on the whole it is the same group and that familiarity gives them a greater sense of adventure, covering far more ground than before.
Fear Street: Prom Queen splits the difference between its twin target audiences of ageing VHS-weaned gorehounds and their phone-thumbing teenage descendants with [pullthis id="axe"]a big axe[/pullthis] and a mordant smirk on its face. Its thrills are cheap, and it panders to your basest requirements; but then the exact same thing could be said about a Netflix subscription.
As we near the end of Glaciers, so the pieces grow sparser, a lugubrious atmosphere of impending doom is upset by the most incredible vibe shimmer and the two instruments as they circle one another collapse into one another’s arms, spent for now and drifting away, becoming more and more distant, leaving the listener with echoes of what came before
Precious Recordings pushes things even further with a back-to-back payload of early-summer releases. Featuring newbies and returnees delivering wares with a variety of provenances, here follows a breakdown of what the label now has vying for our shelf space.
The list of instruments on guitarist Geir Sundstol's sixth album for Hubro is as long as both my arms. This inventive selection of widescreen soundscapes utilises all manner of guitar-adjacent instruments and straddles an interesting space between Ry Cooder-esque introspection, Ennio Morricone-like sweeps and Eastern tonal influence.
Barring a change of heart in his unimaginable dotage, Tom Cruise gives us one last hurrah for his team of super-spies whose average workday includes falling out of planes, climbing on the outside of a skyscraper, or almost drowning in a gigantic washing machine.
The title is pretty hilarious and the album artwork of emojis disintegrating into a murky computer soup had me wondering what it would be like if each symbol that people use had a soundtrack. Would it be anything like this or the complete opposite? There is only one way to find out; so allow the tentacles of the Ancient Psychic Triple Hyper Octopus to slowly reel you in.