Brutal week, taking in electrocardiograms, leaky roofs, mangled salads, bus replacements, and - worst of all, and for no good reason - watching the Death Wish remake on Netflix with Bruce Willis (what's happened to his face?)


Some great stuff through our doors though... see below. 

Be well

Rune Lindblad 
The Death of The Moon & Other Early Works 
Fantome Phonographique | LP | £21.99

Mysterious, ectoplasmic, heavier-than-a-death-in-the-family tone-poems/prophecies by Swedish composer and painter Rune Lindblad (b.1923), recorded in the mid-late 1950s but sounding thrillingly and implausibly now-ish – in all seriousness you wouldn’t bat an eyelid if someone told you they were products of the early noughts UK DIY/drone underground. Dub-pocked, darkly lyrical dramas of assembled sound, studded with hypnotic free percussions that suggest some awareness of Southeast Asian indigenous musics (maybe?!) while also anticipating the sparse, dronal acid-folk investigations of Thuja and their ilk. It wouldn’t be quite right to describe this music as psychedelic, but it has an inky, abyssal, smacked-out allure that is irresistible (although you can be certain Rune was on nowt stronger than black kaffee and unfiltered ciggies). Crucially, it affords you the necessary space to think and drift and dream and contemplate and, when you’ve weighed it all up, crumple into a ball of inconsolable sadness. To carry out his work, Lindblad had to borrow equipment from Gothenburg University in the evening, and return it by sunrise – and sure enough the results exude a dissociative, sleep-deprived blooz that you just can't fake. The unspeakably mournful, glacially-paced lunar jazz of the title work is formidable, but it’s on the subsequent more rhythmic and spatial tape-pieces that things get really interesting, with whispers and intimations of, among other things, Bob Downes’ Open Music, Graham Lambkin’s nocturnal salmon-runs, the fin-de-siecle miasmas of Timo van Luijk and Christoph Heemann, and even – at a stretch - Nate Young’s Regression / Stare Case flesh-crawls. Working outside of any institution or established discipline, Lindblad’s early experiments in sound were largely unseen and unheard, although one critic who witnessed a rare 1957 performance at Gothenburg’s Folkets Hus described what he heard as “pure torture”. He couldn’t have been more right, and more wrong.


Nyah Fearties!
A Tasty Heidfu'
Good Energy| LP | £14.99

Eyyyyy-oooh! Feels like someone just installed an open, roaring fire in the shop, slid us all a dram then sconed us over the back o’ the heid with a pool cue - Nyah Fearties! shattering the sometimes lacklustre, modern idealist setting that is Hackney Downs Studios with their primitive-punk / sporron-step and gale-force, folk-wise stompers. The Wiseman brothers’ maverick spirit, finally dug-up from the 80s Scottish underground by Good Energy, rattles through a range of lyrical, HYSTERICAL hyper-violence and social commentaries on day-to-day life in Scotland from Goatfell tae Govan - the chicken shack recorded Ganjo, bass, scrap metal and scaffold-whacking sounding a bit like a young Hasil Atkins rehearsed with Afflicted Man for twenty minutes before commanding the dance at the most raucous ceilidh in history - up to their ankles in cow-pat and blasting out a deranged, pub-wise cover of the Gay Gordons before derailing into a ferocious, avant-garde punk pile-up.

Aye, GOOD FUN, if you have any idea what the fuck we are on about. Sanjay reckons it sounds more like a soundtrack to a Scottish version of Deliverance (Sanjay where’s yer troosers?!) so ye, initially difficult to imagine this jigging-juggernaut having much appeal outside of the feral, Scottish boozer circuit, BUT there’s an earthy, kitchen-sink realism hard set in “A Tasty Heidfu’” - the kind of thing you can imagine Mark E. Smith raving about if he’d ever found time or desire to compile a NWW-style list (aye right!). Great record - cult classic!


The Mover
Final Sickness
Planet Phuture | LP | £19.99

Hardcore tekno impalers / mutant waveform transmissions brought back from the grave (1993!) with more bite than ever - the inimitable, ruffneck pressure-sounds of The Mover. Ten swarms of bionic club BONKERS...true kosmic kommando musik. 


Unknown Artist
Music of Indonesia
Folkways | LP | £21.99

STUNNING set of 1950s recordings from Indonesia, originally released on Moses Asch’s Folkways Records - a brief but insightful window into the region’s somewhat 13,000 islands and their traditional musics, as well as touching on the many foreign influences that the islands have encountered / endured.

Such is the gravity of the task set, there is so much variance in these recordings - although prominence is given to the spatial, rhythmic shadow-plays of Javanese and Balinese Gamelan, which operate on regional tone scales - such as the “Salendro” from Surakarta and the “Pelok” from Jogjakarta, which is played with seven tones to the octave (a good time to mention / confess that this edition comes with some VERY informative liner notes). These elemental teachings sit alongside sorrowful songs of a loved ones absence, joyous ceremonies of ancestral worship and throughly transportive dream-directions, delicately and intricately played on a host of bronze and bamboo forged instruments and primed to thoroughly spanner yer emotional mechanics.

Ruedi Häusermann
Galerie Randolph

Black Truffle | LP | £21.99

Brittle, beautiful, bonce-rearranging alien jazz geometries… poised yet playful and liable to completely dish your understanding of linear time…like a 3D chess match with some future-folkloric trickster/daemon you’ve bugger-all chance of beating (literally none) yet feel compelled in your earthly arrogance to take on again and again and again. Yeah this is the real stuff. Born 1948, Ruedi Häusermann calls the medieval Swiss town of Lenzburg home. His primary allegiance throughout his prolific and distinguished career has been to absurdist music-theatre – presumably this is how you pass the time in the medieval Swiss town of Lenzburg - and an impish, volkish, very Germanic sense of humour comes across even in these formal, ultra-symmetrical instrumental pieces. But he’s not just pissing about – or if he is, the effect is serious, and substantial, and lasting. Galerie Randolph, originally released on Unit CD in '95 and named after Häusermann’s rehearsal room, is a masterpiece of latterday minimal music. Each piece begins with the same two elements: a scatter of bass-like tones played on a home-built instrument Häusermann made by stretching two guitar strings between the top of his alto sax and an amplified cup; and a series of block chords played on accordion and reeds. This base motif recurs throughout, but on each track different elements are layered on top of it: fractious free sax, modal-melancholic flute and clarinet parts, one-fingered piano melodies, distorted vocals, metal percussion, bells...and a whole array of scrapes and drones and unidentified electroacoustic phenomena. All, it should be noted, played by Häusermann himself, and deftly multitracked. The cumulative intensity of these sequences is incredible. Traditional notions of beginning, middle and end no longer hold water. For the first time in god knows how long you feel LOST. You're up scheiss creek with only an amplified cup for a paddle, and it's exhilarating. Give it the attention it deserves and trust us, Galerie Randolph's strange patternings of repetition, addition and subtraction will alter your spatial relationship to music FOREVER. Fark. Highest possible recommendation.
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