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If you're gonna go out

 


Evening, hope you're well... 

We have a date for our FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTYFriday 20th April. Still a way off but stick it in your diary, please... we're excited about our GUESTS and suspect a few of you will be too. The venue's a 5-minute walk from the shop; we'll share full details of that, who's playing, and how to get hold of tickets, soon enough. 

What's been going on? Finally made some progress "re-modelling" the back of the shop - the bit you never see, the bit where we cower and hide and curse you. Basically this just means a wooden wall-panel that has been in our way for the past 11 months is now GONE. 

Yes, we removed a bit of plywood. That's genuinely as exciting as life has got in the last seven days... late January eh, with its failed health-drives, declined card payments and relentless f***ing rain. Still, better than being on holiday. 

 



MARK

INTEGRIER DICH DU YUPPIE
A COLOURFUL STORM | 12" | £8.99

You know it's 2018 when the best dnb record of the month is also a conceptual petrol-bomb railing against the accelerated gentrification of Berlin. Blimey, it's a far cry from 'Da Bass II Dark'...but also maybe not...resistance, isn't that the thing...?

Picking up where last year's Here Comes A Fucking Startup Campus left off, Integrier Dich Du Yuppie ("Integrate Yourself, You Yuppie") draws attention to the recent sale of the Uferhallen building - a 20,000 sq ft, hitherto city-owned artists' studio complex in Wedding - to a group of venture capitalists (for €30 million) promising "cautious development". Putting aside the obvious point that artists are always the true harbingers of gentrification, unwittingly scouting out ground for the start-ups and tech outfits who usher in Babylon, it's not hard to get behind Mark here...London is gone, done, there's hardly fuck-all left to save (just memories, and most of them not ours), but the battle for Berlin's soul is ongoing, and hasn't been lost...yet. 

Anyway, don't worry, the lecture begins and ends with the title and artwork (love how the guys on the cover look like they could work for a private equity firm, sure, but could also plausibly be some !K7-signed jazz-tronica trio from the mid-2000s.) The music itself is direct and unpretentious: dread, stripped jungle-techno rollers, schooled in the old ways but totally contemporary sounding; dyed-in-the-wool darkside but lithe and light on their feet - anyone into Pessimist, vintage Photek/SD or Christoph de Babalon's Grim Zenith, should be all over this. The bleepy, controlled menace of 'Samwers In Der Uferhallen' is the highlight for us, while the gloomy industrial ambient of '...Careful development without haste' is nothing if not compelling - the sickening groaning girder sound of construction and investment and PROGRESS. 
 





KEITH HUDSON

PLAYING IT COOL AND PLAYING IT RIGHT

BASIC REPLAY | LP | £14.99

Re-press! Basic Replay's long-out-of-print reissue of this full-length classic from the Ghetto Dentist: the dense, digressive and thoroughly zoned Playing It Cool And Playing It Right, recorded with Bullwackies and released in '81 on Joint International in the States. Like Flesh Of My Skin Blood Of My Blood, it's about as close as reggae comes to psychedelia, Hudson's disarmingly funky phrasings fractured and dissolved into cyclical, darkly sensuous dub excursions that have an almost Fourth World quality about them (served well by Moritz von Oswald's mastering). Just phenomenal...every home needs a copy of this. 

 

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS
LA CONTRA OLA: SYNTH WAVE AND POST PUNK FROM SPAIN 1980-86

BONGO JOE | 2LP | £22.99

You might well ask: do I need any more cold wave / post-punk / minimal synth comps in my life? Course you don't! But if you still can't resist - and frankly the immaculate 'dos those cover girls are sporting was all it took to reel us in - you will be very handsomely rewarded by this amazing 2LP. Often with these sorts of comps you tolerate a load of half-arsed tape-music/proto-industrial filler because there's two or three un-Pop KILLERS on there that you need, but La Contra Ola has been put together not just with historical expertise but also a firm eye on quality control - steering well clear of the aforementioned noisy blah, and of the dull-as-dishwater darkwave that Spain produced no shortage of in the early-mid 80s - focussing instead on more idiosyncratic, less generic stuff, with electronics clearly foregrounded.

Whether by accident or by design, the tunes on here to me sound so much more interesting than the by-now-canonical Belgian/Dutch/French MW classix.. there's a wildness (dare I say "latin flair"?!) to the songs and the performances, the instrumentation and arrangements are is dense and weird and unpredictable but invariably PARTY-minded. I don't think it's the case that Spanish post-punk at large was better than any other country's, but the track selection here is so good that it really makes it seem that way. Sometimes it just comes down to what's under the hood: cut any act on here, even the most synth-centric or dubbed-out (check Derribos Arias's mad ricocheting percussion work-out 'A Fluor'), and they would bleed rock'n'roll...check out Zombies' nervy surf-punk curio 'Extranos Juegos' - sounds like Cramps armed with a drumbox and a Polysix. Esplendor Geometrico are the . best known act included: their well-worn but still scintillating proto-electroclash, mecha-billy banger 'Moscu Esta Holado' is a perfect, signal opener.

 



CHRISTOPH DE BABALON

IF YOU'RE INTO I'M OUT OF IT 

CROSS FADE ENTER TAINMENT [CFET] | 2LP | £19.99

"If you're gonna go out... go out like a mothafucker." Christoph De Babalon's manic-depressive avant-junglist masterpiece reissued! Clearly recognisable as something pretty special when it first came out on Digital Hardcore in 1997, If You're Into It I'm Out Of It has only grown in stature in the 20 years since, and today its bleakly Teutonic, anti-establishment/anti-self/anti-you breakbeat abstractions sound nothing short of visionary. It's now obvious that the Hamburg producer's claustrophobic, Isolationist (nigh-on suicidal) take on dnb - combining hectic Amen choppage (so hectic, at times, that you'd have to say it has as much to do with breakcore as it does with UK jungle proper) with droning industrial textures and passages of supremely paranoid, bombed-out ambience - laid the groundwork for a huge swathe of contemporary fare from Demdike Stare, Pessimist, tnc6, Raime, Kareem, Mark etc, and represents a form of cold futurism that will never truly date. This beautifully presented 2LP edition comes via CDB's own CFET label, and hot on the heels of last year's Grim Zenith 12" for Vis (which confirmed what didn't need confirming: badman.) ESSENTIAL. 

Dinner for one

 

Evening all… will be brief, got a takeaway en route and we’ve already wasted enough time today. 

Highlights of this week’s new releases listed below, but we should also flag up Nick Klein’s new Lowered Flaming Coffin 12” on Alter, another inspired volley of mutant techno incendiaries following on from LC perennial The Lonesome Dealer; re-stocks of last year’s ace Tribe Of Colin 12” and the ESSENTIAL Ross 154 mini-comp on ART (wistful breakbeat techno perfection); very limited copies of the new Equiknoxx ‘Fly Away’ 7”; a nice-price bundle deal on all three Heavy Metal LPs to date, and Dark Entries’ reissue of Solid Space’s much sought-after, none-more-wonky DIY/post-punk masterpiece Space Museum





CUCINA POVERA

HILJA 
NIGHT SCHOOL | LP | £17.99

This debut LP from Glasgow-based artist Maria Rossi is a perfectly judged and executed marriage of stoic, so-sparse-it’s-barely-there minimal techno, leaky bedsit field recordings and her own sublimely hymnal vocals. Combining choral, quasi-ecclesiastical uplift with a glottal surrealism at times reminiscent of CDF’s work in F ingers (or maybe just an awks exchange in the Black Lodge), Rossi, who is originally from Finland, sings in a tongue of her own devising – a language, as Night School put it, for some mythological Fourth World we’ve yet to create. It is, ultimately, a record that transcends language, communicating something pure and ancient and BEYOND.

Rossi’s voice is versatile, dextrous and multi-layered, but she doesn’t show off with it, doesn’t allow herself to be seduced by it – no, she uses it with precision and restraint. Her tone is pure, her phrasings spare, at times channelling Alison Statton and Alison Conway’s jaded choirgirls  – the gloomy drumbox, walking bassline and can’t-stand-the-rain ambience of ‘Avainsana’, which eventually lock into a funereal house rhythm, is like YMGs / AC Marias by way of Mille Plateaux – but on the O-Superman-at-sea sway of ‘Kupariumpu’ and ‘Electra’ she admits a more soulful inflection into her voice's grain, one that takes us away from post-punk affectlessness and into a warmer, blissier realm.

There is not one dud track, each one feels unique and also an essential part of the whole, but special mention must go to ‘Huhuilu’ (with its space-age bossa pulsations, and a vocal take that recalls Jessika Kenney’s Javanese-influenced stuff, it sounds at once crisply futuristic and as old as time itself) and to the cold, Terminator synth/folk-scape ‘Totean’, which sounds like Ksiezyc washed up at the Hague and cut a track with Sammy Osmo. Unbelievably good.

Cucina Povera refers to the proud southern Italian cooking tradition that’s all about simplicity and making-do - it's an apt handle for Rossi, who throughout Hilja coaxes minimal elements into jaw-droppingly maximal effect. Released in an edition of 300, in screen-printed sleeves, Hilja is top-to-bottom beautiful, a DIY tour de force - and further evidence that we are living in a GOLDEN AGE.

 



TRAFFIC ISLAND SOUND

ALL ABOARD
ANOTHER DARK AGE | 7" | £8.99

The first of two head-scratching but unmistakeably quality new 7"'s (the other one is this) on Sanjay's ADA label, limited to 100 hand-stamped/stuffed/numbered copies and featuring the vocals of P. P. Rebel. The B-side here features two cuts from his debut LP, Maximal Electronics, on Moontown Records. 50 cassettes disappeared in the blink of a gammy eye and this is the first time any of it has been pressed to vinyl. The A-side is, well, inexplicable...but with a gun to our heads we'd say it feels a little like Heavy Metal colliding with a Radiophonic Workshop on the bleary downward dip of a trip that wasn't BAD but wasn't exactly GOOD either. Par for the course in TIS' stomping ground of Geelong, really.

 




SILVIA KASTEL
AIR LOWS
BLACKEST EVER BLACK | LP | £14.99

You need this, the first (proper) solo album by the wonderful Silvia Kastel - who has been a fixture of the European underground/avant-garde since her precocious teens, clocking up many miles in Control Unit with Ninni Morgia (“It’s like Catherine Deneuve dumped two cases of post-Repulsion psychiatric notes over Pere Ubu’s Dub Housing, lit the fuse and, ahem, stood well back” – Julian Cope), including collaborations with Smegma, Factrix, Aki Onda, Gate ++. 

Both solo and in her work with others, Kastel has explored the outer limits and inner workings of no wave, industrial, dub, extreme electronics, free rock and improvisation. Air Lows is both her fullest and most refined offering to date, a work of vivid, Isolationist electronics which draws deeply on her past experience but assuredly breaks new ground. Prompted by a late-flowering interest in techno and club music, Kastel was out to create something which combines a steady rhythmic pulse with the otherworldly sonorities of musique concrete, and avant-garde synth sounds inspired by Japanese minimalism and techno-pop (Hosono’s Philharmony especially). Plus: the formal artifice of muzak / elevator music, the intros and outros of generic pop songs, the extreme light-heavy contrasts of jungle, the creative sampling of hardcore, and the decidedly "alive" synths in the jazz of Herbie Hancock’s Sextant and Sun Ra...

Though used sparingly, Silvia's voice remains her key instrument, whether subject to dissociative digital manipulations as on ‘Bruell’, delivering matter-of-fact spoken monologues, or providing splashes of pure tonal colour. Recorded between her expansive Italian studio and a more compact, ersatz set-up in Berlin, Air Lows gradually takes on some of the character of the German capital: you can hear the wide streets and empty spaces, the seepage of never-ending nightlife, the loneliness. Air Lows is The Wizard of Oz in reverse: the glorious technicolour J-pop deconstructions of its first half leading inexorably to the icy noir of ‘Spiderwebs’ and ‘Concrete Void’.

 



SIEKIERA

NOWA ALEKSANDRIA

MANNEQUIN | LP | £18.99

Siekiera!!!!! If you own just one Polish punk rec--  No, honestly! If you own just one Polish punk record it ought to be Nowa Aleksandria. Apparently this 1986 side, a sustained howl of yoof-ful dissatisfaction which is magnficiently stripped-down and bleak and aggressive but has a very New Wave energy and sheen about it, was a big deal in its homeland, providing a suitably paranoid and frustrated soundtrack to those last years of life under Communist rule. Songs like the title track and ‘Bez Konca’ are high-velocity, synth-enhanced anthems – ANTHEMS - that effortlessly vault over the language barrier to convey an incredible mix of bitterness, optimism and longing for escape. It’s incredibly engineered, guitars chugging and crunching and iridescent like a souped-up Outsiders; bruisingly percussive throughout, songs like ‘To Slowa’ have a simultaneously dub-wise and proto-metal intensity that betrays a clear debt to Killing Joke. In terms of its legacy, well, we were turned on to Nowa a few years ago by Diat, and they’ve clearly learned a lot from from the driving basslines and stinging whiplash leads of ‘Ludzie Wschodu'. They can't, or shouldn't, be the only ones: Siekiera here provide the blueprint for unhealthily-skinny-but-tough-as-f**k post-punk/darkwave PERFECTION. If you dig any of the above, or Blitz’s Second Empire Justice, or peak Chameleons, you need this record. It’s been reissued and bootied umpteen times, respect to Mannequin for giving it its first official release outside Poland.

Tighter than a seagull

 

 

Evening. Just three records - three very deserving records - make up this week's picks-of-the week. Down with 'flu so moving more slugglishly than usual, plus got so excited by sudden unexpected arrival of NEW HEAVY METAL that we basically ran out of time. So be smart and check the site for lots of strong new arrivals not featured here from Dronga, Heldon, DJ Slyngshot, Paleman, SKRS +++.





HEAVY METAL

LP 3

HARBINGER SOUND | LP | £14.99 

Third album from the best band in the world (according to us), "THE NIETZSCHEAN SUPERMEN OF DUSTBIN ROCK" (according to them)...another masterpiece of disaffected, unsanitary murder-punk for internet-era layabouts, providing ballast against - as well as comment on - our general cultural malaise but ultimately confirming that we’re all fucking worms and we get what we deserve. Three LPs in two years, but lest they be accused of jogging on the spot, this set - their best yet, though we always say that - finds the “mysterious” Oz-Deutsch outfit breaking "new" ground, by channelling grooving, groin-led early '70s rock’n’roll…Too Sick For Total Punk indeed. ‘Motherfuckers In The City’ sounds like Sticky Fingers meets The Door & The Window, strung-out Keef-Bill riffage strapped to a Tomy-tronic drum machine from Woolworths wheezing its last.

Elsewhere they casually toss off Killed By Death-grade anthems like the pigeon-German 'Explosionsgefahr' and ‘Today Is The Last Day Before Tomorrow’, swerve into bizarro DIY (‘Like Two Sheds In One Garden’), and perfectly capture the bathos and absurdity of the new Cold War ('Hacked By The Russians) before ‘Tighter Than Seagull’ sees them break on thru to a new plain of drugsick downer pysch that comes over like the deformed offspring of Juergen Gleue and BJM’s Their Satanic Majesties' Request.  As if all that wasn't enough, they easily outdo their legendary take on Rod Stewart's 'D'Ya Think I'm Sexy' with a droogish cover of Cameo’s 'Word Up’, placing them in the esteemed company of Korn, Gun and Little Mix - i.e. exactly where they belong. 

Speaking of covers, we won’t spoil the surprise of what lurks behind ‘You Are The Antichrist’ - suffice to say it makes crystal clear the louche, smacky, chateau-dwelling inspiration behind this STONE cold genius LP. Gold vinyl with insert. 





RIAN TREANOR

CONTRAPOSITION EP

ARCOLA | 12" | £10.99

Don’t know what we were expecting from this new Rian Treanor, which also kicks off Warp’s revival of their short-lived but much-loved Arcola sub-label (last seen 2004), but it definitely wasn’t this… basically the sharpest, baddest GRIME record we’ve heard this side of 2005.

Philistines/stuckists that we are, we normally steer pretty clear of Computer Music©, which tends to be especially enervating when it pretends to be DANCE. Honestly just can't be bothered. But though we’d sort of placed Treanor in that world (rightly or wrongly), this 12” totally obliterates those preconceptions. It's plainly amazing material. Without shirking their meta-rave/braindance responsibilities, its four perfectly formed tracks pop and lock and swerve with a proper feel for how bodies move in space WHEN THEY'RE HAVING FUN, managing to sound totally tweaked and futuristic and complex but at the same time bone-crunchingly simple and forceful and ardkore-economical as foundational bleep’n’bass, somehow digesting 20 years’ worth of ‘nuum R&D into the most compulsive, precision-moulded stabs and drum edits. Constantly mutating before your ears while also keeping its hair on, maintaining the necessary tension and pleasure-centre-bashing repetition that make this stuff - when the chips are down - TEKNO and not abstract electroni-blaaaaah (the one section where is does lurch into juddering plasticine trance chaos feels earned, and properly exhilarating).

Honestly can’t think of a Warp record in nigh-on two decades that has so successfully broken nu ground while feeling absolutely, unmistakeably aligned with the label’s sound-murdering founding spirit. The programming is nuts, as forensically detailed and hectic as the pottiest lab-rat IDM, but also ultra-minimal, shadowy and COLD to the touch: check the subzero UKG flex of ‘Position_B1’, the epileptic eski of 'Contra_A1'. For the ravers, not about the ravers…or both, at any rate. Either way, 12” of the young year so far.





CARLOS MARIA TRINDADE / NUNO CANAVARRO

MR. WOLLOGALLU

URPA I MUSELL | LP | £23.99

Having opened their account last year in classiest fashion with a reissue of El Sueño de Hyparco's Ambientes Hormonales, Barcelona’s Urpa i musell turn their attention and expertise to a 1991 holy grail of fourth-world ambient/minimalism from two luminaries of Portuguese pop/rock: Carlos Maria Trindade (Corpo Diplomático, Heróis do Mar) and Nuno Canavarro (Street Kids, Delfins, and the cult 1988 solo LP Plux Quba). A sample-heavy, electro-acoustic evocation of "ancient maps, distant travels and evocative landscapes", it’s very much Nice Music…and though its prevailing mood is undeniably one of barefoot, bumbag-wearing Utopianism, sustained listening reveals all kind of strange instrumental flourishes and reality-wrinkling repetitions…deep thought triggered with a light touch; a cumulative psychedelic intensity. Having said that, things do get particularly tasty on side 2, where the sunlight begins to cast some shadow: ‘ven 5’ is a highlight, as is the Hassell-esque controlled menace of of ‘Aelux'. If you’ve enjoyed your Pep Llopis, Jorge Reyes, Luis Delgado, Cybe…this one’s a no-brainer.

What does it mean to be human and who cares?

 


The big news this week – of interest only to us, and maybe two or three of our regulars at a push– is that we’ve radically re-organised the rack sections on the shop floor. Actually, “radical” is the wrong word, when all we’ve done is fillet STRANGE SOUND and TEKNO and divide them into several more easily navigable sub-sections. Come see us and marvel at the impossible beauty and logic and symmetry of it all, and while you're at it check out Sanjay’s newfound bald-spot, which he has christened LOW COMPANY.
 
In all seriousness, this modest re-organisation is just the beginning of a larger programme of cosmetic surgery we’ve got planned for the next couple of months, a cheeky bit of Botox ahead of full-on lipo-suction and breast enlargement. After all, mad as it seems, our 1st birthday isn’t far away now. Obviously we're planning a wee party to celebrate, away from the safety of the shop itself, info soon.

In the meantime...

 


LOLINA

LOLITA

NO LABEL | 10" | £9.99

This 10" came out at an awkward time, just before Christmas (and all it entails)...glad we’ve sat on it a bit because it’s taken that long for it to properly click. Although it won’t quite satisfy anyone (still) craving the subtlety and density of Because I’m Worth It, never mind the unfettered pop majesty of ‘Smitten’, Lolita wipes the floor with its two Lolina-authored predecessors, taking the spiky, garish synth tones of Relaxin’ With and Live In Paris and grafting them onto the kind of ghosted-out R&B/street-beats that characterised Worth It and her more to-the-point Gast collaborations. In terms of its sloppy, stream-of-consciousness singjaying, you'd have to say there's an affinity with Blunt’s Stone Island, but this is less self-absorbed material, and sonically way more adventurous, always with one eye on the (imaginary) dance. From the title track, with Inga doing her best Martina T-B over hollowed-out eski/dancehall, the fucked polka of ‘Keep On Moving’ (with that nagging “cash-and-carry” refrain) and sinewy, crepuscular instrumental ‘Plot Twist’, it all feels right on the $$$, free-form but rooted, well aware of its surroundings but totally its own thing and, whatever its longevity, truly of its time (a compliment). As with Worth It, rhythms that seem obnoxiously primitive and messed-up on first contact, quickly come to feel complex and space-time-jarring and (DIY-)visionary - at once more locked-on and lawless than 99% of the sheep-music emanating from white boys' bedrooms the world over. If you're a fan... you know. 

 



VARIOUS / ANDY RANTZEN

MAGNETIC SOUTH: A COLLECTION OF RARE AND UNRELEASED MASKING TAPES RECORDINGS 1984-86
KASHUAL PLASTIK | LP | £18.99

Probably like most people outside of Australia and/or hardcore post-punk/minimal synth-collecting circles, our first contact with Andy Rantzen was through Forced Nostalgia’s 2011 reissue of an amazing Pelican Daughters set from 1988, Fishbones And Wishbones. While there were plenty of people emerging from early ‘80s industrial culture whose work anticipated, or directly fed into, the techno/dance paradigm shift that occurred later in the decade, some of Rantzen’s productions feel madly prescient – see ‘Do I Dream’ on that Oz Waves comp, house-not-house which wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Warriors Dance, or the rolling toms of Pelicans’ gothic zone-out ‘Through The Sepulchre’. Same goes for ‘Beacon Hill’, a proto-IDM glaze which could easily pass for an early Black Dog or Ae track, and which opens this compilation, an excruciatingly limited edition (250 copies) from Kashual Plastik. Drawn from the archive of the Masking Tapes label, it features a couple of Rantzen solo tracks plus choice selections - all reliably gloomy and dub-disoriented - from his Pelican, Shibboleth and Knapp projects.

Housed in a black, hand-screen-printed cloth bag sleeve. One per customer, ships Monday. 
 




DRUNK ELK 
IN THE TUSCAN SUN / WINGS OF WINTER 

IL DISCHI DEL BARONE | 7" | £6.99


On the face of it band called Drunk Elk is a hard sell, but this Tasmanian outfit has impeccable pedigree and any humour implied by that handle is of the most dismal, pessimistic kind. Led by the vocals of the aptly named Dave Askew, their brand of eavesdropped, slow-motion loner folk/DIY will surely strike a chord with fans of The Shadow Ring, Garbage & The Flowers’ Entlang and lathe stuff, and more recently Enhet For Fri Musik (in fact this 7” comes to us courtesy of I Dischi Del Barone, a label run by Enhet’s Matthias A.).

We’ve had a couple of Elk records in before – their self-titled LP on House Rules, a 2x7” on Black Petal, and a second-hand Wormwood Grasshopper side - and they’ve all sold quickly and quietly, without being much talked about, unsurprising perhaps as this is a music of small gestures, intensely private and fragile-feeling, which you instinctively want to keep to yourself and whose virtues you’d struggle to communicate to another human being anyway (this is us, struggling). Some people just get it.* 

Two tracks on stamped white-label 7”, housed in a white cardboard sleeve with postcard attached and an 8-page booklet featuring a chapter from Askew’s story The Land Over The Ocean.

[*If this scratches your itch see also the recent-ish Blue Chemise 7" (also on IDDB) that Carla turned us onto, another essential conjuring of "precarious and fucked late-night desolation" from the Southern Hemisphere]. 





тпсб

SEKUNDENSCHLAF

BLACKEST EVER BLACK | LP | £13.99

Sleep-deprived, serotonin-depleted breakbeats and dank tekno atmospheres from somewhere west of Lake Lagoda, near the Russia-Finland border - we defy you not to be blown away by 'Pacifier Habits' and 'Are You Still Hurt'. Sekundenschlaf has significant points of correspondence with contemporary European electronic music, as well as the golden age of (early) jungle and ambient techno, but its psychogeography is rooted in the tranquility of Western Russian nature, and the anxiety and distress of the country’s post-Soviet working class. The music has a loose, improvised feel, but its arrangements are intricate, its melodies iridescent: cascading arpeggios that gleam in the light (what little light there is), sighing string-pads that evoke the deepest melancholy. Rhythms that sound at once hyped-up and burned-out, collapsing in on themselves as they race to destinations unknown, somehow never dropping a stitch. All bound together with field recordings of eavesdropped conversations, blurred into abstraction, a droning subliminal menace.






VICTIM
THE TEEN AGE

OVERGROUND | 7" | £6.49

Overground reissue of obscure, irresistible 1980 7" from Ireland's Victim, originally released on Illuminated. A bolshy, effortlessly anthemic celebration of YOOF (although they themselves look suspiciously weather-beaten) which captures/embodies that magickal transition between glitterbeat and punk, writ large with a thugged-out cover of Bowie's 'Hang On To Yourself' on the B-side. Limited repro edition - amazing artwork, eh.





LASZLO HORTOBAGYI

TRANSREPLICA MECCANO

LULLABIES FOR INSOMNIACS | LP | £19.99

Re-press! One of last year's most in-demand releases (round these parts, anyway), this is a "remastered and revised" edition of a key LP by Hungarian composer and musicologist László Hortobágyi, originally released on Hungaropop in 1988. Inspired by his spiritual and musical awakenings in North India, it finds him using PCM morphology and FFT spectrum analysis as well as virtual overtone processing synthesis software he developed himself in the 1980s to transform samples into rich tapestries of ambient and nervy computer funk - reminding us at certain points of Jorge Reyes, My Life In The Bush Of Ghostsand late (digital) Clock DVA. A must for fans of them and of Miracle Steps, RAMZi, Sakamoto ++. Lovely silver foil sleeve. 





KID MACHINE

REPLICANTS EP

VIEWLEXX | 12" | £9.99

So pleased that Viewlexx has been ramping up its reissue programme of late. I-f’s expanded Brown Elbow Conspiracy justly flew out when we had it in a couple of months ago (re-press due soon), and his evergreen, epoch-shifting pop-moment ‘Space Invaders Are Smoking Grass’ is up next, but in the meantime we’ve been floored by this lesser known but unfuckwithable modern classic of badboy neo-italo/electro from Kid Machine (an alias of UK producer Mark Wilkinson), originally released in 2012. The goofy sci-fi samples might put off all but the real-gone IFM/Magic Waves stalwarts, but embrace ‘em and you’ll be rewarded with ultra-druggy, tuff-bassline-driven robo-disko that stands shoulder to padded shoulder with the very best this sacred genre has to offer. Killer.

Back pain is good pain

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