Those former Yugoslav industrials certainly hit vital back then -- trumpet fanfares, pounding drum falls, those rousing anthem repeats; even today it’s still sonically captivating, so much so I didn’t think it needed a rework, but Laibach definitely saw potential in them old bones.
Michael Rodham-Heaps
444 posts
Pulled back from obscurity by label honcho Alan Gubby, these choice selections from the long-defunct Arcadia Cosmos sound library excite, get in your head, inspire. Sounds that inhabit their titles and more, gift-wrapped in the spiky jiver of a monochromed power station.
Bristol 10 January 2025 Support for The Jesus Lizard‘s eagerly awaited trip to The Fleece in Bristol came from that city’s own purveyors of mutant post-punk hip hop, Lice. Having not seen them since their extraordinary set at the Bristol Psych Fest back in the summer of 2017 where it […]
Whirring the hinge between this world and elsewhere, Téléplasmiste's Of Nature And Electricity’s’ compass points are plentiful -- exploratory. Gently coaxing themselves into the uncharted, a softly rounded trip into the infinite.
Capturing the atmospheric flavour of an ancient Cornish burial site, Slomo’s fifth album is a mid-winter’s dream, ditching the well-trodden refuge of dark ambience in favour of something less menacing, more nuanced.
This debut from French trio eat-girls is a bountiful beast as the dark-noted dirge-tastic drag of the opener ("On a Crooked Swing") testifies. The male / female coin-flip of vocals slinking over the tightly hooked half-lit gloom. The mournful and whispery Malaria-like creep of "Unison" snaking all seductive in the ear, that nocturnal prowl of guitar lobe mauling as lyrics overspill, tip noisily to retract beautifully back on this lush lullabied afterglow.
In a noisy, over-stimulated world, The Necks' new album Bleed provides the perfect antidote -- an intimate homage to quietness and what can be done with the emptiness between.
My head caught in the hazy drift of "Coast" and the questioning romance of the opener, "Nobody Loves You More". Kim Deal's unique vocal style holds you in a close-knit spell, then slams you into the party sparkle of "Crystal Breath". What a gem of alt-ness, roasted on paunchy fuzz and glittery abstraction as her words stitch their freestyle sense.
Massive drums, double bass and a shiny grand piano meant The Necks were crammed into what remained of the stage. A physically crowded space that suited the band’s intimate interlock.
Man, the energy was insane — breathtakingly direct, leading to me totally losing it (maybe to the gritty pump of “Devoción”?), my body all salvo-daggered, head-flinging abandon as the electronics twerked and tasered. My kinda dance music for sure ...
Well this is exciting (especially after the Unremembered, Remembered demos a few years back) -- suddenly out of nowhere we have a new album from those Wolfgang Press guys. Is it any good? Of course it is!
Taking their time, Godspeed You! Black Emperor slowly assembled on the stage, each taking root to their wares, adding to the prevailing dynamics. The scratched letters of hope jump on the illuminated wall behind the semi-circle of performers. The gathering storm sonically spiring, conspiring, sliding skilfully into view. Haven’t seen Godspeed live since the early 2000s (though I continued to buy their wares) and I’m glad to report they’ve lost none of their majesty. That sad elixir, the stuttering stigmata of that dogged perseverance and explosive deliverance all still razor sharp.
A His Name Is Alive boxed set – Wow! — this is beyond incredible, especially so soon after the Silver Thread pre-group groundwork of Warren Defever’s formative years. Loads of unheard bonus material to salivate over too, enough to fill another three records in addition to the 4AD trio.
Bristol 20 September 2024 Well this is a real trip down memory lane. Not only are Seefeel on the road (the last time I saw them was 1995) with the first new material in thirteen years, but they have brought AR Kane along with them to a sold-out Strange Brew. […]
Zappi Diermaier did a good job with Daumenbruch and continues to play to his percussive strengths on this latest faust fragmentation for Bureau B.
It was plain to see from reading the poisoned blood of the lyrics that the overwhelming negatives of the HIV/AIDS epidemic were at the forefront, that misinformed scaremongery that condemned thousands to a lonely and socially shunned death. The same disease her brother (who this album is dedicated to) sadly succumbed to.
Dedicated to the memory of Brian’s dear friend Trish Keenan of Broadcast, this project began as a coping strategy for the overwhelming feelings of loss her tragic death caused. Never intended to be heard by anyone and too emotionally painful to re-listen to, these tracks were put aside for years until Brian returned to the project afresh and finally completed this touching memorial.
Spiralling breath sonically sycamored; some songs feel more Cocteaus, others more Budd, with a few blurring the boundaries between each. His melancholic piano gloves that Cocteau glisten rather well. A lonely ambience full of rainy-day reflection, the malign beauty that stalks some of us more than others. The comforting echo of his Pearl collaboration with Brain Eno here somehow more skeletal in its haunting, comfortably offset by the other's opulence.
...the LIVE energy this duo are giving off here is insanely satisfying, pushing a mirage of over-driven echoes into the red. A devotional daggered addictive that whirls around shrill and crowing, wounded in the rewind dry whirr of a tape player. The cicada rub of maracas accenting them strumming lacerations, those stippling busts of air-raid siren, all abruptly cut off shortly after the nineteen-minute mark.
Pearling a Pokemon itch, Xylitol opals an enviable optimistic. The maligned clubland default of drum'n'bass given a serious facelift as those needling hi-hatted hares of "Jelena" leap into some heavenly lifts and whispery ambient glows, something Kate Bunnyhausen expertly showcased at her recent Acid Horse outing.