look what we sneaked online while you were sleeping…..part 8

Look what we sneaked online while you were sleeping…..part 8

……and more…

Not so much a review but a mention for this, a recording made from one of the most extremely remote parts of the world, located at the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean, Challenger Deep is the deepest known point of Earth’s seabed. Named after HMS Challenger, the first survey ship to record its depth, it is a forbidding and inhospitable location where depths are reported to be 35,756 feet – taller in fact than Everest – a place where the most basic forms of life exist, to date two successful manned operations have surveyed the site – the brief visitation by the Trieste and the Deepsea Challenger piloted by director James Cameron. This brief recording where made as part of a NOAA led study. Chilling stuff. https://soundcloud.com/user-629727076/eq2015-195220110x5normal

Not sure about the rest of you, but we here are quite taken by this little offering, as teasingly brief as it is, this comes from a posting we eyed by Ned Jackson – better known to the Alrealon Musique community as Black Saturn. It’s by Zumaia and it’s called ‘Clan’ – another of those subterranean dub-tronic grooves whose pulsar minimalism and strange sparsely weaved ethnic charming gives it an ominous Muslim Gauze flavouring had that it where he’d been found studio noodling with Wagon Christ. https://soundcloud.com/zu-maia/clan

Musical interlude – found sound and vision 14 – Siouxsie and the Banshees

Footage from the televised Warwick Arts Centre gig from ’81 aired by Rock Goes to College, worth the entrance fee just to see and hear ‘voodoo dolly’ and ‘eve white / eve black’ chilling the finale….

Apologies time, well there’s been none for a while and they are all beginning to queue up in a most distressing way, however we feel a small debt is owed to Boring Machines who a little while back sent along two killer releases which upon arrival scattered themselves into hiding. So while we try to root out, the still errant press releases for full review later in the week, here’s something of a sampler tasting of what you can expect. Now admittedly we’re not altogether sure whether ‘dres dued del’ actually appears on the forthcoming ‘Gnosis’ set from Everest Magma – but it’s certainly worth an ear. An oddly chilling sore thumb and by chilling we mean sparse and strangely mutated given that it intricately weaves elements of industrial dub, displaced ethnic rhythms, motorik patterns and hybrid techno motifs into a hulking psychotronic mosaic whose dream machine hypnosis effects are akin to having your brain put on a tumble cycle in the washing machine, something which should you be clawing for reference markers, might be best viewed upon as darkening variant of Automat’s techno kraut, whilst admirers of Gnod’s slightly more out there extra curricula activities might be equally wowed. In addition, you might want to seek out the sets title track ‘gnosis’ which unless our ears do deceive appears for the initial part to come from the dark side of a ‘metal box’ era PIL as it mooches ominously in the shadows before getting a tad jiggy and busy towards the end credits to cook up something very much hinting at old school early 70’s styled progressive head expanding Sky / Brain groove. https://soundcloud.com/boringmachines/everest-magma-dres-dued-del and https://occulto.bandcamp.com/track/everest-magma-gnosis

1997ev are a totally different beast, ‘love symposium alien spider’ has in recent days been sneaking its way onto our turntable and literally been blowing us away, from that set and again by way of a taster while we prep up a full mention and locate its errant press release here’s an edited mix of ‘dry sun acid’ – now let’s be open and honest here, this is not your easy stroll in the park listening experience, all at once foreboding and icy, these dudes appear to have hit upon a novel way of fusing elements of both Father Murphy and My Cat is an Alien into a glooming doom draped psychotropic mantra by applying the deathly doomy monastic sonic séances of the former with the shimmering shade adorned wig flipped bleaching of the latter, its maddening repetitive clang and grimly gloomed edginess ushering in an disquieting ceremonial unease. https://soundcloud.com/boringmachines/1997ev-drysun-acid-short-version

Staying with Boring Machines a little while longer, head honcho Onga also curates the Occulto magazine who it seems have been issuing forth some well-heeled compilations / samplers of their own of late, the latest of which #4 will be getting a more detailed listen in the coming days though not before we’ve had a chance to cherry pick two cuts by way of a starter. Happily eyeing Babau, who if memory serves me right, last appeared in these pages courtesy of a killer release via Artetetra records (who if we remember to – will be getting featured in their own right later today). Anyhow ‘palo majombe’ is a superbly wigged out seven and a half-minute head trip into old school progressive kosmiche, a full on panoramic fringe parter tailored in dream drifting smoking cool soft psych noir ambient curvatures which on first visitations appear to channel the spirit of Neu! and Tangerine Dream yet dive deeper intricately layering the kind of tripped out bliss kissed jazz tutored tapestries more associated with Embryo. Fusing cold wave minimalism with flea market sourced analogue synths, Maria Violenza’s ‘by nancy’ ought to appeal to those polytechnic youth-ers among you, possessed of the dead headed charm of XMal Deutschland and the edgy negativity of Pink Military / Industry, this scabbing slice of sonic sore thumb veers into the realms of a youthful Some Bizarre / Mute catalogue albeit as though found trying to rewire a shadowy lined variant of White Noise’s ‘an electric storm’.  https://occulto.bandcamp.com/album/occulto-compilation-4

Musical Interlude – found sound and vision 15 – White Noise

Almost forgotten how gorgeous this is, from the iconic album ‘an electrical storm’

Literary Interlude – found words 1 – Oz

Legendary underground publication goes over ground – ever issue of Oz scanned and preserved by the University of Wollongong – many thanks to Dangerous Minds for the posting.



ready for some classically turned smoking cool boogie, then pull up a pew and settle down a spell. Now the press release accompanying the new four track ‘you say’ EP from Henri Herbert, hints and promises of good time groove, of that there’s no question or argument. It references the Stones, Cash and Morricone. However, where it falls down is in it not pointing out the small but obvious detail that sitting on the shoulders of these four killer cuts sits the spectre of Elvis. As hard as you might try to push it to the back of your mind, Tupelo’s favourite son keeps coming back and grinning. It’s not as though Mr Herbert sounds like the King – incidentally there is a subtle marked resemblance, but it’s his phrasing, his looseness and his ability to command and turn up / down the mood in one brief drawling sneer / croon / pout. Add to that the fact that the backing harmonies provided by Messrs Lutie and Jones are hushed and mellowed to such extent that you swear the Jordanaires had just stepped into the studio booth, mix in the vintage blues accents, the gospel grooving and the affectionate though acutely addictive toe tapping swing and you have a combo who are clearly having too much fun. In truth the release is faultless, as powerful, clinical and measured as the Jim Jones Revue but without the hellfire (curious enough he was a former member – something we only cottoned onto after hearing the likeness / trademark sound) and as though headed up by a mellowed and thoughtful Cathal Coughlan and while the ridiculously sparky and catchy sassiness of ‘you say’ will no doubt court the radio interest, it’s the slow bruised sophistication of the quietly torn reflective yearn that haunts ‘Chicago Sound’ that had us perched upright on our listening pew with jaw dropped awe. That said ‘lonely man blues’ is no slouch as it chugs along the train tracks of despair fired by some of the dandiest finger frying key work this side of the Killer.     

Many thanks to Barry for sending over the links, mentioned earlier in the week here’s that frankly corking gameshow theme pitch from the inconsistent jukebox – prime listening for all those currently plugged into the villa 9 studios sound world notable the recent Osiris and Kensington gore soundtracks…..and in case you missed it first time of asking – https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/03/03/the-inconsistent-jukebox-4/


Liable to lay you low, it’s the creaking ache in the vocal sympathetically sighed by the wistfully mournful slide opines that does it, more so the way it feels almost apologetic that its troubling your listening space leaving you with the strange feeling and an overwhelming desire of obliging it by the coaxing of it from out of the shadows. The digital release of ‘dead horses’ through the sideways saloon recording company by A. Dyjecinski is a heart heavy thing of quiet saddened majesty, prized from a forthcoming full length entitled ‘the valley of yessiree’ it’s a deeply personalised homage to his grandfather, spun with a reflective and poetic yearn that’s shrouded in solitude, admirers of a contemplative Willie Nelson may find much of impressed interest. By sharp contrast and more forthright in approach ‘I’m the woods’ is a pulling up to the feet resolve facing up against the odds, determined and realising of the stacking of the cards, its bruising introspection curbed mournfully into a solemn solitary hymnal whose hushed sparse melodies secretly labour and stress beneath the weight of the emotional turbulence at play.

Those of you with a thing for vague recollections might well recall us falling over ourselves at the appearance on our player of the frankly gem like ‘lunar’ by public memory at the tail end of last year. Not wishing to beat about the bush like things, we here are suspecting that this could end up being as rare and rewarding a find as that of last year’s shoving of C Duncan into the public spotlight. A debut album imminent in the shape of ‘wuthering drum’ via the felte imprint has given up another taster from its eagerly awaited grooves with the appearance on sound cloud of ‘zig-zag’. Ushered in on a ghostly mistral and spirited upon a snake winding arabesque, a haunting ice sculptured choral apparition lost in the moment is found weaving its spell crafting charm over the hypnotic pulse of minimalist electronic murmurs that cast search light tractor beams into the ether to seduce your listening space in strangely alluring trance toned auras. https://soundcloud.com/felte/public-memory-zig-zag-1/

Been a while, in fact too long by our reckoning or likening, that the Luck of Eden Hall visited upon our sound player. A new single ‘the end of the lane’ is due to emerge on the esteemed mega dodo imprint while pencilled in for June celebrations a new double platter full length ‘the acceleration of time’ is due to land. Available in many variants, the obvious eye catching treats for collectors and fans alike being the coloured wax gatefold and the dogs doodah’s’ ultra-limited pop up CD – both sure to be the cause of purchase frenzy when they eventually appear. For now, the band has unveiled a little taster of what’s to come in the shape of ‘slow’ and posting of the entire C side of the set, the former opening to the ticking turn of a cosy toed vintage carriage clock, giving it the warming Victoriana glow of HG Wells’ ‘time machine’ wherein without warning everything fractures and melts in an instant and before you know it you’re swiftly swirling down the hallucinogenic rabbit hole upon a technicolour magic carpet gliding fast and ever deeper into the mind’s eye, the images and sounds merging to one, evaporating, reforming and dissipating amid the tangy sugar burst of kaleidoscopic sprays and fuzzy flotillas of trip-a-delic bliss bathed bubbles. Annoyingly we’ve lost the original posting by Mr Curvey commenting on the sidelong nugget that swoons the grooves of side C – a 19-minute head expander which dare we say finds the Eden Hall-ers skirting into classic era Electric Light Orchestra territories, a four cut odyssey that incorporates tracks 9-12 and includes the Floyd-esque freak beat growler ‘happiness vending machine’ which we first encountered way back in the midst of 2014 (see https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2014/09/16/the-luck-of-eden-hall-2/ ). Somewhere else ‘only robots can search the ocean floor’ catches the band mellowed in thoughtful lovelorn affection, beautified, enigmatic and sheened in the ethereal as it blossoms into lush progian dream weaved. Frantic, frazzled and fried ‘another high speed blow out’ mainlines into old school Porcupine Tree worlds while ‘twelve’ is pure XTC psych alt heads the dukes of stratosphear  Phew! http://theluckofedenhall.bandcamp.com/album/the-acceleration-of-time

We must admit to adoring our fix of flau visitations, as is often the case, refined, elegant and timeless, they hint of an age lost to memory, away from the maddening chatter and clamour of 24-hour commercialism and consumerism, they snugly sit shy eyed and hidden from the hysteria of life. Their latest peek above their reclusive hidey hole, a set from Jean-Philippe Collard-Nevin entitled ‘between the lines’ which alas we’re left with letting the music do the talking given we’ve lost sight of the label posting no doubt impeccably detailed in all manner of information and happenings. The music though, oh can it speak for itself – indeed it can – sweeping and arcing between elegiac solitude and cantering animation, the nods to Satie and to a lesser extent Sakamoto are irrefutable, yet it’s the spectrum of mood these brief extracts touch and evoke, blending measured poise and regal beauty with spring fragrant floral posies, a more perfect accompanying piece for the finding of a moment of lights lowered quietness you couldn’t wish for. https://soundcloud.com/flaurecords/jean-philippe-collard-neven-2

Look I know it’s not really the done-thing routinely mentioning folk’s apparent throw away musings, but Mr Gofton really ought to get a wiggle on and release records, last sighted around these parts as part of the Great Electric who admirably acquitted themselves courtesy of a rather spiffing release via Static Caravan before going off radar, Mr Gofton has just uploaded this brief ‘finger plucking’ nugget under the pseudonym the All Golden entitled ‘Monday 2’ – which if I recall rightly harks back to his George Washington Brown alter ego days in stirring up some warmly honeyed and mellowing deft fingered John Fahey styled niftiness.  https://soundcloud.com/the-all-golden/monday-2

Fancy some ghostly enchantment, well here’s a sneak peek from a forthcoming Linda Perhacs full length – Ms Perhacs for those of you unaware of such things was the author of one of great near lost folk gems ‘parallelograms’ – a set which still sounds eerily unworldly some 40 years plus on since its initial limited release. I’m fairly sure I’ve read somewhere that her new set is currently looking for finance via one of those crowd funding campaigns – could be wrong, probably am wrong, however for now the delightful mysterio that is ‘the dancer’ has ventured out, a beautifully ethereal visitation trimmed in willowy folk mirages all oozed in spectral seduction. http://lindaperhacs.bandcamp.com/track/the-dancer

Despite the fact our ears have annoyingly popped in the last day or two causing everything we hear to sound as though its being received in screeching high pitches of mono frequencies, we can still spot a sure fire traffic stopping jaw dropper in an instant. Therefore, many thanks to Geoff Static who having cleared up the party plates, eaten the celebratory cakes and blown out the candles following the bunting festooned celebrations following Static Caravan’s landmark reaching 300th release now gets on with the business of the long perilous haul towards their next monumental milestone with the unveiling of VAN301 – an absolute drop dead dandified dead eyed double header from the much admired and dare we say unstoppable juggernaut that is TVAM. Expect theories and thoughts on the accompanying flip cut ‘cannibals’ later in the day, for now though, swooning the Sunday experience sound space ‘gas & air’ has been doing some damage in the affection stakes, bliss kissed future visions shimmered in psychotronic pulsars of minimalist industrial drones masked from sight by hazy dust clouds beneath whose rupturing rave waves the honey toned hush of dream dazed euphoric echoes emerge from the ethereal static crackle  like ghost light transmissions from a far off psychedelic death disco dark star – reference wise think of a classic era Shamen before they went all Ebeneezer trance. 

Safe to say that we do look forward to these occasional outings from the Gerpfast Kollektif crew especially when they come bearing new groove from Bergegas Mati which as it happens is the case here with warning news that a new full length entitled ‘pop neraka’ is looming in the distant far off shadows ready to do bad things. So while we try to twist arms to get those all-important download codes for further mentions in full, can we direct your attentions to ‘tiny number man’ – not quite your usual party music unless of course your chosen brand of party entertainment involves nail scratching down the black board competitions, black mass rituals and self-administered trepanning experiments. Takes us joyfully back to the days when we used to get bulging packages of tapes filled with variously tolerable noise treatments from the sadly missing in action Scotch Tapes imprint, admittedly not a million miles away from the much loved and now sadly defunct Tayside Mental Health, all howls of flat lining squalls of face peeling white noise under which submerged, ominous mantras usher and utter from beyond the ghostly veil, approach with caution. The label incidentally also have another of their infamous compilation tapes due to descend shortly, more news as we get it. https://gerpfastkolektif.bandcamp.com/album/pop-neraka

By our reckoning it’s also been a while since John 3:16 troubled our sound player, latest addition to his impeccable sonic CV comes in the guise of the brooding ‘the burnt tower’. Part of a twin set arriving soon via Alrealon Musique, it finds our sonic sorcerer crafting out his signature stateliness across a brooding tapestry whose arid dry sun bleached atmospherics are spirited in forgotten histories and dead languages and whose pensive prowling howl is cast upon a calm before the storm sense of impacting retribution, which reference wise, should you need them position themselves somewhere at a fabled meeting point where the sound worlds of godspeed and roy Montgomery converge.


Bugger the vinyl has already gone, scarcely blinked would you believe – now there is a killer Edward Ka-Spel cut doing the rounds on bandcamp which we’ve been promising to host for as long as I can remember but which for now the link to which we’ve maddeningly mislaid. For now though here’s some absolutely ding dong dogs danders groove from the Legendary Pink Dots pulled from their recently released full length ‘pages of Aquarius’ – ‘mirror mirror’ is very much forged in the image of Syd Barrett and certainly something that admirers of Paul Roland should sit up and take an interested note of. A fracturing dream coat that weaves with spectral delight all the time darkly gloomed in kaleidoscopic macabre and a Gothic shadowy-ness the type of which finds it ventures with unguarded devil may care deep into the lysergic lair of PTV. For the note takers among you, the backward bits incidentally say buy the bugger now. http://legendarypinkdots1.bandcamp.com/album/pages-of-aquarius-a-teaser

Apologies in advance to all who’ve been visiting these pages of late expecting to find oodles of long promised reviews by this, that and the other, truth is we’ve been suffering a tad of late with ear popping mishaps – which as much as we’d like to have you think is a coded way of saying – great tunes and dandy sounds – but which means everything we hear has the effect of sounding as though it’s been pitched a notch or ten in the tinny department and then submerged three fathoms down in a huge water well. Neither will we bother mentioning having hours of fun waiting for our iphone 6s to unfreeze and then complicating matters by asking for all manner of things, was it really necessary to make such a friendly easy to use gadget so unfriendly, unwieldly and frankly unlovable we wonder. Grumbles and aches and pains aside, we’ve found the soothing dream drift tonalities of the long mooted Cold, Cold Heart debut full length rather fetching. Available any day soon via fluttery, ‘how the other half live and die’ has for the last 30 minutes been seducing our listening space in a rare radiant beauty that we feel obliged to cite sets by Shady Bard and those early outings by the Earlies as comparable gems with which to measure against. Coming to us via a twitter posting of all places, something we very rarely check in on, I’m sorry to admit, it’s almost a miracle in itself that we picked it up in the first place.  To passing acquaintances, Cold, Cold Heart first appeared on our radar with the release of ‘Megan’ early last year, as beautiful an outing that we had the pleasure of hearing all year.  So while we pester all and sundry for CD copies, we’ll briefly mention the opening track ‘Hannah’ by way of a scene setting taster. Best enjoyed in a quiet moment, for here the delicate, the demurred and the elegant coalesce, from the quivering string arrangements to the opining oceanic yearn there’s an alluring feint touch to Cold, Cold Heart’s craft, its drifting sprays are haloed in the frail press of rustic rubbings, the melodies ice frosted and thawing twinkles shyly pirouette making tiny snow angels in the wintry footings the combined effect of which casts an alluring time stopping aura of reflective cosy toed intimacy.  https://www.facebook.com/coldcoldheartband

I kinda suspect that this may have gotten lost in the raucous festivities of last year’s end of season annual celebrations. Happily the blighter has loomed large on a recent posting, and well, let’s face, it’s mighty damn fine and deserving of another shout – this fringe floppy folks is a teaser tasting of imminent July groove – first mentioned in these pages somewhere here – https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2015/12/22/july/


more stereophonic sexiness heading Record Store Day way, admittedly we’ve our eye and ear on this, a specially re-trimmed twin set from the recent Cavern of Anti-Matter album, these two cuts being remoulded anew by Karen Gwyer and Hieroglyphic Being and which in their hands, by the briefest of evidence oozing from this teasingly brief teaser trailer, smokes of sophisticated lights lowered super smooching soul funkiness to reposition Gane and Co amid the shadowy allure of nocturnal heliotropes. This version comes pressed up in a limited edition 2000 only screen printed PVC sleeve housing 12 inches of clear sumptuous wax 

Appears to be a shimmer of activity in the Fire camp with news of a Death and Vanilla re-release campaign afoot that’ll see long deleted and eagerly sought after gems from their distant past introducing themselves to a growing crew of new admirers with the appearance on limited edition blue wax of variously blue and yellow variants of their debuting self-titled full length and EP along with a repress of their much hunted and wanted Great Pop Supplement two tracker ‘from above’ – for now though here’s the near perfect demurring dream drift that is ‘ghost in the machine’ – an ethereal orbital ghost light shimmered in purring pulsars all twinkled in 60’s noir lush with mysterious unworldly affection veering dreamily into the  finest moments of a late 90’s Birmingham scene and like the recent Lake Ruth release sounding not unlike an adoring celestial kiss between a youthful Broadcast and the Soundcarriers.


Can’t get enough of this, just oozes bliss kissed cool – the latest all important sonic fix from Rob Clarke and the Wooltones, what was once the shimmered sound of jaw dropped Byrds-ian kaleidoscopia now comes with visuals – think I might faint at the happening spectacle of it all…..incidentally full review here https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/02/29/rob-clarke-and-the-wooltones-7/ – popcorn at the ready everyone, lights – camera – action…..smoking stuff…

How we adore this, mentioned little over a week ago somewhere here https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/03/02/stella-diana/ this is Stella Diana with the frankly head bowed and majestic ‘Sulphur’ – a gorgeously adoring vapour trailing gem like dream drift that aches with lovelorn desire all the time atmospherically arced in the subtle spray of euphoric halos yet sensitively cautioned in hesitation and adored in shy eyed love notes, perfect sonic seduction for those  cobbling out fantasy bands from members of a flock of seagulls, kitchens of distinction, sennen and victories at sea.

Musical interlude – found sound and vision 16 – orkestra obsolete

Tripped across this via open culture and thought one or two of you might like it, this is an amazing version of New Order’s bench mark setting ‘blue Monday’ performed on a theremin, musical saw, harmonium and other arcane instrumentation – well smart…..


Might we be right to describe Rodney Cromwell as a one-man party pack absorbing, fusing, melding and retooling your favoured moments from your record collection into something that aside setting the turntable affection dial up to maxima also manages to across all at once like the sound of yesterday, today and tomorrow all rolled into one. Case in point ‘black dog’ has that eerie tug of appearing teasingly familiar and yet strangely new, what first hints at the opening moments of Suicide’s ‘dream baby dream’ soon morphs and shapeshifts as though a starry eyed alignment possessed of elements of the unmistakable Hook hung bass lines from a populist New Order period welded to a melodic mosaic that curiously gives up elements of New Musik, Another Sunny Day, the Hoverchairs, Howard Jones and Steven Jones’ post Babybird incarnation Trucker – did we say the blighter was acutely infectious.


A truly immersive experience, a dark dystopian nightmare vision adopting ominously dread headed gaming collages melded to the unrelenting grind of droning industrial churns, this is a cut culled from an ultra-limited tape release put out by the halcyon veil imprint by rabit and chino amobi entitled ‘the great game’ a coldly clinical future age where the grim surveillance / virus infected worlds of ‘1984’, ‘brazil’ and ‘resident evil’ terrifying collide, loosely described by the label as 21st C punk, and in truth who are we to argue, for beneath the desensitised vocal drill of the computer generated overseer, a game for survival is afoot where identity and difference are soldered to the ways of the state, the effect is eerily engaging, laser sprays and dissipating political edicts engage a hypno droning tapestry where the messages secrete a socio conditioning that blurs, confuses and withers away at the resolve much to the callous glee of the omnipresent watchful eye of the ‘company’. Quite chilling yet all the same stunning. https://soundcloud.com/halcyon-veil/rabit-chino-amobi-the-great-game-freedom-from-mental-poisoning-the-purification-of-the-furies

I’ve a slightly worrying feeling that we’ve got a download of this album somewhere in our bulging in box, we say worrying because I fear it may have been sent a little while ago and somehow foolishly found its way slipping our attention in all the end of year hullabaloo a month or three ago. Anyhow while we go off in search of errant files, here’s a little teaser trailer accompanying / announcing the descent into earth’s sonic orbit of a new cosmic pop platter from the Oscillation. Admittedly an all too brief mind mushrooming mirage for which we recommend the donning of space helmets for this psycho-nautical head trip comes ‘shroomed in the fracturing and fried shadowy oblivions of a spaced out Barrett in situ Floyd all darkly treated in lysergic psychosis and kicking out the kind of uber cooled psyched out groove that one suspects shades were made for.

Blending their want for the crafting of the ethereal, the strange and the alluring, Virginia Wing emerge from quiet isolation following love and acclaim poured upon their debuting full length set ‘measures of joy’ with a new cut entitled ‘rhonda’. A slow burner it’s safe to say and a brave choice for a single given it adopts and accentuates the bands flair for experimentation with this very much tapping into the same would be flirting and fusing of pop with classical strains as those keenly appreciated to courtesy of early catalogue releases via ZTT most notably in fact that of Propaganda. A beautiful visitation that fractures into two movements, the initial part graced in unworldly hymnal mantras all etched in the kind of head bowed atmospherics that one time allured releases by Dead Can Dance. Then without warning the pace shifts to mutate into the glacial cosmica of grimes and fever ray all the time teased and trimmed with deft airiness from ghost like Balearic mirages vaporised in the fading afterglow of KLF’s original ‘last train to trancentral’ courted by spectral celestials. Quite enchanting if you ask me. Available via fire shortly.  https://soundcloud.com/firerecords/virginia-wing-rhonda

I’m sure we’ve an email somewhere from those dudes over at Cardinal Fuzz filled with all manner of download codes for their latest batch of full lengths, which disappointingly on our side we haven’t had the chance to hear just quite yet. However, we did stumble over this little head shroomer. Culled from the latest – their second I believe – full length ‘sun’ – this is Dreamtime who hail from Brisbane and a cut called ‘centre of the mind’ the accompanying press release makes mention of the adopting of eastern ragas and Tibetan styled mantras to their formidable hallucinogenic colouring box, and indeed that is the case on this head expanding melodic mystic whose bliss kissed hazes and astral highs craft out a delightfully tripping mosaic, however dig a little deeper in to the third eye tweaking trimmings and the ghost of the Doors comes drifting out of the smoky narcosia upon magic carpets piloted by BJM.

Guess it’s as good a time to roll out something and er – brutal – because let’s face it, it’s been a few days since we dared to feature anything approaching sonic terrorism. So pull up close, turn the volume down a touch and prepare to be sand blasted out of your listening cosyness by Masturbatory Dysfunction – indeed a prize-less slap on the back for spotting why exactly we mention this. Anyhow this is ‘unsolved nylon brutality’ – 4 minutes of ear frazzling caustic assault which by our reckoning makes Tayside mental health, kylie minoise and sissy spacek sound like pussycats when it comes to frying your headspace in all manner of trepanning tyranny, guaranteed to clear out unwanted visitors in an instant whilst proving to be a hotly topical cause for discussion over the garden fence with your beleaguered neighbours. https://soundcloud.com/masturbatorydysfunction/unsolved-nylon-brutality   

More forthcoming mitra mitra action, we here are suspecting the cooler among you are already on to this. Ripped from a limited release debut full length, 150 vinyl copies only, this is ‘heat’ – much like previous visitations to these pages, mitra mitra emerge from a would be lost musical landscape, a genesis fermentation pool populated by the normal, client and early incarnations of the human league, their glacially graced minimalist cold war future wave deliciously dripped and tripped in clinical emotionless, courts with a void like blankness droned in bleak motorik servitude.


Musical interlude – things we’ve missed 1 – the pleasure symbols

Now I’m hoping this lot have made a shed load from this and are now living the high life of the pop aristocracy because by the looks of things – by way of a quick peak at their band camp page – they appear to have gone into semi-retirement with this being something of a quick hello / goodbye. This is Jasmine and Phoebe, who operate under the moniker the Pleasure Symbols who it’s safe to say evoke instant recalls of so many bands from recent and lost memory that quite frankly we could cobble up a rather wordy eye popping a-z list. That’s not to say that these dudettes are plagiarists, far from it, it’s more a case of the multi-faceted sonic spectrums that they touch upon as they absorb and re-thread elements of post punk chill wave / 4AD styled frosted sophistication and dark wave analogue retro-ism.  Part of the synth / vapour wave set, ‘ultraviolence’ arrives cooled in a noir framed glacial grandeur that skirts with adept accuracy to align itself with the kind of grooves emanating from the New York based Weird imprint, amid it’s minimalist murmurs looped visions of future apparitions pierce through the ethereal veil, it’s stilled majesty and Gothique gracefulness coalesced into a dead eyed ice framed eerie enchantment that’s both coolly alluring and mesmeric.

Yes, yes, yes I know I’ve been promising for ages to do a bit of inbox spring cleaning, not least in an attempt to catch up with these Active Listener samplers – last count they’d slipped at least four beneath our radar while our heads were turned – however we must make mention of their last. ‘the great british psychedelic trip revisited’ – might well be their best in a fair old while, a gathering of talents – most known while others previously unknown to us providing surprise ear popping gems in waiting – among the roll call Rob Clarke and the Wooltones, Adam Leonard, topos locos and the ilk, however most interesting for us, the appearance of a cut from the murmurs of Irma. Now regular observers of these pages will be all too aware that for as long as we’ve been doing these missives we’ve long banged on about these dudes, two singles came our way back in the 90’s that literally blew us away and stayed with us since, we later heard of an album which in vein we tried to track down and then that was it. Gone. Or are they, for ‘Vacuum cleaner’ featured here, initially appeared on the flip side of one of those aforementioned singles, ‘coloured ice’ in fact, a fuzzily fried slice of classically honed beatnik groove swirled in all manner of kaleidoscopic wooziness which in its day would have sat neatly next to your all-important Bevis Frond finds and which once crackled into stylus action blossoms to a tangy head shrooming multi coloured lysergic burst revealing an acutely tuned nod to the mind fracturing psych blues  freakiness of the Pretty Things. http://theactivelistener.bandcamp.com/album/the-great-british-psychedelic-trip-revisited-al031

New mega dodo musical action with the latest in their singles club soiree coming courtesy of a 7 inch from the much adored Octopus Syng. Arriving soon in an equal dishing of a limited 150 apiece white and black wax variation serving this be ‘reverberating garden no’7’ a mind dissolving trip toned mosaic drenched in dissipating freakbeat echoes and ghosted in dream weaved descents into the darker side of a Floyd / Barrett mystical oblivion all the time voyaging afar into the kind of blossoming Wonderland pastoral airiness that was once the crookedly kooky domain of the much missed Freed Unit and these days the forte of the Soft Hearted Scientists. Over on the flip, oozed sublimely in English psychedelia eccentricity, a frankly superb cover of Floyd’s ‘flaming’ is kaleidoscopically brush stroked into a head expanding surrealist daydream twinkled in nursery chimes and a sugar bursting lysergic radiance that floats dizzily in and out of consciousness. 

As far as our humbled opinion goes one of the finest soundtracks ever to grace a Hammer film production – or for that matter any celluloid offering – was that of the score adoring the backdrops of ‘Dracula A.D. 1972’. Composed by Mike Vickers it provided a deeply experimental excursion where the ways of the old abruptly met head on the free spirited modern age, the scoring multi-faceted and shape shifting beneath sand like footings mirrored sublimely the interweaving of the ancient and the gothic with the kitsch and the now for this was Dracula being dragged forth into the 70’s where only the sounds and fashion were different yet where the frailties and naivety of man remained, only ever more so. This essential soundtrack is now being exhumed by Death Waltz records in a strictly limited 1000 pressing whereupon it arrives in full colour jacket sporting a psychedelic swirl slab of wax. Blending psych, jazz funk and atmospheric classicism, Vickers’ score swings with the hip heavy chug of 70’s action spy meets cop throb grooves with the opening credits spiked with a hip wiggling sassiness that veers ever so close into Schifrin territories. Contrast its lightness with the ominous claustrophobic shadow play of ‘devil’s circle music’ where primitive ritualism and no wave jazz sets a terrifying sonically mutant tableau while elsewhere the dream like hullucinogenia of the tripping ‘baptism by blood’ and you soon begin to notice the way this set shape shifts to incorporate a wide and lushly wired and weird loose limbed sonic palette.    https://soundcloud.com/mondotees/sets/draculaad1972/s-eEfnM

Only brief samples I’m afraid but more than enough revealing of what melodic magic lies in wait within, pastoral posies dizzily daydreamed in flighty flotillas of sunny spun mirages ghosted in the reflective sigh of faded memories of lost summers, the sounds murmured and sweetly hazelled in wood carved weaves yearn and snooze with an idyllic lazy eyed wistfulness to evoke a lushly bright and vividly colourful landscape of quaint village green hideaways, the artistry delicate, demurred and dinked in the willowy ways of the old enchants as much as it beguiles with its reference points reclined and resting somewhere between the prettified breezy lilts of Junkboy , the shadowy ghost lights of beatglider and the slipstreaming visitations of soft hearted scientists. This folks, is the debuting full length by Jon Brooks of the Advisory Circle and Tim Felton of Seeland / Broadcast, here operating under the guise of Hintermass, the set entitled ‘the apple tree’ is available via the ever adored ghost box. https://soundcloud.com/ghost-box/sets/the-apple-tree

Twee before twee was ever a musical weekly inkie insult, Rexy’s ‘running out of time’ slipped out through alien records in 1981, an album that garnered play listing across Europe yet floundered in the UK, its kitsch bossanova minimalism and left field lounge motifs kissed in spectral woozy funk sophistication run with echoes of yello, its playfulness and strangely out of step, time and fashion hints of the kookiness of the flying lizards. The album long out of print and by all accounts a firm favourite of the likes of Ariel Pink and MGMT finally appears after nearly four decades via the newly formed Lucky Number / Uru collaboration – the latter an imprint set up by Samantha Urbani. A strangely becoming set that defies easy categorization, sometimes easily viewed as a more smoky and sultry variant of Grace Jones while at others sure to appeal to admirers of Gary Wilson with that is the occasional curve ball thrown in for good measure with the title track drawing loose ancestral dots all the way to Stereolab as though copying from a Virna Lindt songbook. However, by our reckoning its ‘nervoso’ that ought to catch the passing ear, a strange fusion of ‘the hustle’ and various 70’s mirror ball mirages and afro-beat groovings teased in lysergic dream weaved shimmers tweaked in Lemon Jelly mosaics and ghosted in hulking music hall organ recital. And why we mention all this you might well wonder, well aside its long overdue release, there’s been a recent posting of an Ariel Pink cover of ‘in the force’ – which finds him in cahoots with Puro Instinct cobbling out what is an adorably and niftily faithful and playfully affectionate revamp of the original cut even down to its tongue in cheek cheesiness and old school analogue electronic sound. https://soundcloud.com/urururu/ariel-pink-puro-instinct-in-the-force-rexy-cover

Those previously unaware of Rexy – draw up a tad for these gems……

Musical interlude – found sounds..season 2:7 – virna lindt

Called to mind when checking out the aforementioned Rexy set, isn’t this quite something else, first to say Charlotte Gainsbourg’s re-reading ‘hey joe’ gets a special badge, this is Virna Lindt and a track entitled ‘underwater boy’ from an album ‘Shiver’ released – would you believe – in the early 80’s, a divine slice of seduction lushly and hushly oozed in 60’s noir and the sophisticat stylising of John Barry – what is there not to love here, the way it airily orbits shimmered in spectral desire and twinkled in lights lowered sultriness – quite something else.

And talking of Grace Jones – a mere mention a little while ago – news of an expanded set arriving out of Island, June time, a colossal 4lp revisiting of ‘warm leatherette’ – the album that not only paved the way for ‘nightclubbing’ but saw a brave and abrupt change in direction for Ms Jones, disco was so yesterday and undergoing a critical backlash, time to change, and the change was stark, experimental and bold fusing a new musical tongue that spoke in mutant funk, Dadaist dub and minimalist electronic dialects, a toe dipping precursor to the landmark ‘nightclubbing’ full length that would follow in ’81, ‘warm leatherette’ the first of her ‘compass point trilogy’ gets the full lush treatment with this set incorporating a sound system surrendering smattering of rare b-sides, lost edits and expanded mixes from the day, most of which have remained previously unheard and left on the cutting room floor due to the limitations of the day’s limited capacity of vinyl to feature them.

A trailer gives forewarning of things to come…..

Sorry getting a little lazy, not quite had a chance to rifle through the bulging sack of emails hogging our inbox, but I can tell you with a fair amount of certainty that laying claim to our hi-fi sound player right this minute is an unbecoming squabble for affection raging between a new killer thing from rhododendron via deep distance – I believe – more on that one later – and this – new head expanding groove from lucid dream. The first fruits from sessions for their third full length, pressed up on a limited number of wax artefacts in 12-inch form – 300 to be precise – through holy are you – this is ‘bad texan’ – a shade adorned swirling kaleidoscopic rabbit hole of a cut purred in kosmiche pulsars and solar drenched cosmic orbitals all wired upon a strutting cool as cute pout that lysergically lilts with an ear worming pop immediacy to sound like a prime time Slipstream types cocooned in some hazily glazed hypno grooved Sonic Boom dream machine.

New moving picture type video thing from Scouse weird ear collective Apatt, perhaps strangely enough their most lucid offering today which as it happens we mentioned with much fondness a little while back here https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/03/03/apatt-3/ and are featuring again regardless of the fact that the blighters haven’t sent over the album….ah well we all live in hopeless hope.


Believe me when I tell you that there is plenty of Midwich Youth Club strangeness being lined up here in the coming week or so, though not before a brief mention fort this decidedly eerie and unsettling sore thumb. ‘the age of misanthrope’ is MYC at his darkest and most shadowy, a ne’er do well binary hitchhiker lurking in the information highway, a ghost in the machine with pre meditative motives, you think that those annoying glitches on your PC and various household electronics are some corporate game played out by the Microsoft’s and the Apple’s of this world. Have you stopped to think that while you sleep, blissfully unaware that you are, that your gadgets pretend to be idle while really they chatter among themselves cobbling up ways to subtly condition and control your headspace. It’s a graceful twist of the master and servant role play, they control you while they are happy to have you think you hold domain over them. This is the twilight lair of the tech universe where exists a pulsing hyper intelligence, a Radiophonic hinterland where the droning tonalities of the Tron-sphere fuse with ominous portent with the cold subtle telling threat of Barry Gray’s end credits score to ‘UFO’.  https://soundcloud.com/midwich-youth-club/the-age-of-the-misanthrope

Plenty of eilean groove to come in the next few days, the noted French imprint impressing us immensely in recent weeks with some well-heeled outings by Wil Bolton and Chris Dooks catching our ear lobes and hogging the sound player – more detailed mentions to come in due course. For now though, adding to their enviable and eclectic roster a new set from Phi Bui. Entitled ‘unnoticed moments’ this strangely becoming full length blends elegant neo classical poise with fragmenting chamber noir dream states. Tripped in a sepia soaked vintage, these droning silver shimmered symphonies ghost in like déjà vu affected apparitions, at times tutored loosely in the subtle essences of Glass, Bui for the best part tears up the expected rule book to freewheel outside classical music’s strict confines embracing the old and new to craft a coalescing collage that speaks in many musical tongues whilst simultaneously finding itself colouring from a wide sonic palette to incorporate everything from monastic fugues, cinematic ghost lights, operatic chorals and arcane oriental folk mirages.  https://soundcloud.com/eilean_rec/phi-bui-unnoticed-moments-album-preview 

Musical interlude – found sounds – season 2:8 – rubba

Another corking release that somehow slipped our radar this one being unearthed by de wolfe sometime in 2013 after having last being witnessed and visited upon hi-fidelity horizons in 1979. This is a quite amazing slice of analogue dreaminess from Rubba taken from an album ‘push button’ – this being the title track which I’m sure you’ll agree has not degraded with age and had it not been for Mr Jarre’s recent collaborations sets might have had one or two of you thinking it was some previously hitherto result of a forgotten chance meeting between the godfather of French electronica and John Carpenter. Blessed with the suave symphonic curvature of Jarre and the stilled future wave iciness of Carpenter it veers delightfully ever so close into Vangelis styled ‘blade runner’ terrains – something with which raises or fosters no complaints here.

Musical interlude – found sounds – season 2::9 – Electronic System

Fancy a little early Sunday morning mellowness, then let us introduce you to Electronic System – the alter ego of a certain Dan Lacksman who way back in that golden year 1974 sneaked out a full length set ‘tchip. tchip volume 3’ – from which upon the player right this minute you can hear the dream drifting sounds of ‘skylab’ – now this I have to say is in Ozric zones, a big beautiful sprawling beard stroking slice of milky ambient tonalities cutting mesmeric mosaics, the seductive coalesce of electronic and smoking cool lounge jazz which has a kind of super chilled Tangerine Dream vibe about its wares albeit after getting stoned out of their faces after a brief visit to Brain records, frankly just out there.

More record store day loveliness I’m afraid, this one heading out of fire who look to be on the ball this year with some well-heeled RSD visitations not least this nugget which finds the ahead of the curve and more often than not existing in a total different time, space and who knows, perhaps universe, from everyone else, Bardo Pond engaging in wigged out happenings with both guru guru and the acid mothers temple, an absolute stoned summit meeting of the celebrated musical mystics of psych folk with ‘green’ providing for a hulking head shrooming experience as it voyages deep into the untapped regions of the minds dark side for some vintage big beardy freakily fried wig flipped grooviness, a journey which I’m rather suspecting one or two of you won’t be finding your way back from. https://soundcloud.com/firerecords/bardo-pond-green

Fairly certain we haven’t mentioned this previously, new thang from our friends Gerpfast Kolektif – a three way face off featuring the ever excellent Bergegas Mati, theo nugraha and negativemeditation collectively entitled ‘senyap’ – one for those much loving of their sounds dredged in noise experimentalism and sonic abstraction with each ensemble serving us a brace of blood freezing delights apiece, which for now we’ll earmark the latter mentioned whose ‘1204’ for your listening perusal not least because amid its scratchy glitch tripped frequency detuning, very much revealing a thing for early career Pimmon, its icy stillness and sense of the machines at sleep vibe borne through the pulsar dronal hums, had us reaching for our prized EAR releases from yesteryear for swift re-familiarising comparison. http://gerpfastkolektif.bandcamp.com/album/senyap-3-way-split

Aren’t felte responsible for lining up that frankly superb set from public memory, I think they are, well it seems the blighters are at it again, here’s something very tasty from Nite Fields Music who according to the limited notes hail from Brisbane. Entitled ‘voyeur’ this chill grooved gem taps directly into an early 80’s consciousness to craft some shadowy safe spot from out of the joining of invisible dots linking together the Danse Society, Artery and 23 Skidoo to form some nifty death disco demurred ghost light minimalism whose shadowy sparse funk hypno grooving wouldn’t look to out of place on a C-81 previewing late night Peel show from the era. https://soundcloud.com/felte/nite-fields-voyeur

Staying with felte a little while longer, another cut well worth the time investigating is the brooding 9 minute ‘going upstate’ from Michigan based trio Ritual Howls who describe themselves or at least describe the sounds they make as ‘industrial rock cinematic country goth’ which in truth is a pretty good call because this impending storm cloud comes groomed in the kind of wide screen grizzled expectant tension that finds it tucked away at the blind side of godspeed whilst setting up a beleaguered watch post situated somewhere between the fields of the Nephilim and the grails with both pouring over the musical survey maps of explosions in the sky, the landscape arid dry, scarred and ravaged by the unforgiving ferocity of sun burning skies is hazily glazed by snake winding sonic mistrals whose choking epitaph hints of distant Eastern spectrals ushered upon deathly storm gathering trade winds the type of which that ought to concentrate and seduce the earlobes of admirers of John 3:16. http://ritualhowls.bandcamp.com/track/going-upstate


Softly demurring, stately, magnetic and of course mercurial, the drift spun poise of Sophia’s latest salvo yearns and harks quietly to a seductive craftsmanship that had us here recalling the jaw dropped elegant beauty of both homescience and the great lakes at their most bruised and vulnerable. Yet fetch yourself a little closer to ‘the drifter’ and amid the divinely set spectral halos and its broken lazy eyed tenderness there’s the subtle smoky etching of Neil Young reclining in the mix. Perfect if you ask me. http://sophia.bandcamp.com/track/the-drifter-2

If I recall rightly Matt Bower – he of Wizards Tell Lies and the Revenant Sea fame might well have some connection with April Larson, my head gets fuzzy these days with such distracting details, but whatever the case seems that there’s been a fair amount of activity at the April L sound bunker of late what with release appearing to crawl out of all manner of labels in ridiculously limited quantities not least this face off with Maurice’s Hotel Death which according to the tag descriptors has its sonic happenings filed puzzlingly in the ‘ambient bacteria’ camp. ‘heavy dream’ in its full unabridged 12-minute glory really is what can only be described as a head whacker, impishly non-conformist it straddles the noise / industrial / drone spectrums with mischievous playfulness constantly tugging the musical mat from beneath your feet and resetting itself each time it suspects you are achieving something of a lazy comfort zone by way of the use of cut ups and sonic reconstructs, throw in a fair amount of dub mosaics and seriously left field techno dialects not to mention what sounds like everything including the kitchen sink, strangely enough it’s probably the kitchen appliances and sink remonstrating throughout, and you have a sonic palette that literally teams with busying multi-tasking life.


a brief excerpt in video form…..

<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/158976262″>April Larson &amp; Maurice's Hotel Death – Heavy Dream (video edit)</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/user20846254″>Larry Crywater</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

April Larson also feature on a superb set being put out by the recently reconstructed Digital Dizzy imprint entitled ‘a warmer welcome’. ‘stuck between the stations’ ought to principally appeal to all those of you who marvelled at the uber limited cassette face-off between Revenant Sea and Roadside Picnic from a year or two ago, a sky fading epitaph for a post-apocalyptic occurrence stilled in reverential sheens of shimmering orbs reverberating in euphoric hazes, in essence like some veil revealing onset of a celestial visitation.  http://digitaldizzy.bandcamp.com/track/april-larson-stuck-between-stations

And so to that ‘a warmer welcome’ collection put out by the recently upgraded with a fit for purpose digital makeover digital dizzy imprint of Bristol, now we would love to have the time to sit with this a do a more detailed appreciation, but factors such as time constraints not withstanding that it stretches to some 110 tracks make it something of an impossible quest to which we may have to come back on impromptu occasion to sample in small bite sized segments. Of course already briefly mentioned in passing courtesy of April Larson – see above somewhere – this bulging gathering features one or two personnel who’ve featured in these pages previously along with a hulking roll call of those who thus far haven’t – like for instance the excellently named devotionalhallucinatic whose ‘capsized’ is an ominously eerie blighter that frequents the outposts of Astral Social Club’s distant sound universe and seems happy to glower in hypno grooved states much like a pulsing UFO from Gerry Anderson’s classic ITC series of the same name. somewhere else Patrik Glassel’s ‘the bluminant ballroom’ kookily coils itself in oddly obscurest toy box stutters which aside sounding not unlike some fragmented and frazzled late night studio concoction dreamt up by an impish Delia Derbyshire, strangely shuffles, shrieks and stumbles to a loose sore thumb chamber coda that wouldn’t look to out of place on a Mixing It playlist schedule. As said a few old friends are tucked among the grooves most notably Whizz Kid whose ‘charly stories’ may well be, if I’m rightly thinking, a previously unheard cut, a delightfully teased toy room treat featuring all the trademark snoozes, sighs and squelches though here graced with a gorgeously lilting shy eyed pastoral vintage which slipstreams touchingly into early 70’s TV themology with subtle nods to l’augmentation and isan. Somewhere else, a bit of a blast from the past with the appearance of band of holy joy on our sound player, here with ‘ministers say it could take two years to destroy isis’ – is this really the same dudes from the late 80’s we wonder, anyhow another of those sonic sore thumbs given this comes etched in the kind of isolationist subtronic drone dub that was once briefly frequented with by the likes of the revolutionary corps of teenage Jesus and mount Vernon arts lab with maybe a touch of early career Clock DVA thrown in for good measure. Rifling quickly through the compilation roll call we stumble across Assembled Minds, now we must say here that we owe a HUGE apology to Matt Saunders – for it is he who is Assembled Minds – for somewhere along the line we’ve absent mindedly thus far omitted to feature the critically acclaimed ‘creaking haze and other rave ghosts’ full length despite it getting a serious hammering on our hi-fi since arriving here well before Christmas last year. We are assuming that ‘street field’ – featured here – is a new cut, maintaining the spirit of the aforementioned set, it finds Mr Saunders emerging from the rural twilight and onto the heady floorspace of club land, crafted in minimalist dub signatures and wispy lunar waveforms, it assumes a lightness and a deftly delivered funky dialect to find itself tailgating the kind of svelte surround sound syncopation pressed upon such recently adored grooves as those by Static Caravan illumi Free School and the Art of the Memory Palace.  https://digitaldizzy.bandcamp.com/album/va-a-warmer-welcome    

The perfectly named Martin Newell’s OddCast is just that, a gathering of the eccentric, the eclectic and the plain daft and strange, really is an enjoyably jumbled array of rare finds and seldom heard sounds shoehorned into a delightfully obscure forty-minute sitting, I mean where on earth else would you joyously happen across a surreal soap opera set in a farm shop – kind of the joining of the ends of Rawlinson and Futtocks – with some kooky light music from the vaults courtesy of Arthur prior with ‘the whistler and his dog’ – very bracing oompah Ealing Studio Englishness. Anyway the show as said, is curated and hosted by Cleaners from Venus man Martin Newall and comes seasoned in grooves from the likes of the much loved around here anyway Of Arrowe Hill who on this appearance appear sunnily 60’s beat pop pastoral tweaked, shall we say Tomorrow-esque, oh go on then, tomorrow-esque. Elsewhere there’s something teasingly tasty from Lorraine bowen and jake thackray both of whom I must admit previous to this we were blissfully unaware of – the latter of course one for the Stanshall set methinks –  look just tune in and treat your earlobes.  https://www.mixcloud.com/Martinnewelloddcast/martin-newells-oddcast-show-2/

One of the finest albums we’ve been happy to trip over in the last few days is a full length being put out via Stolen Body records by Edward Penfold. Going by the name ‘caulkhead’ –  it’s a peculiar off beat classic in waiting, stumbling uncertain into the bright lights, it crookedly navigates to a song craft vintage that blends homespun reflective rustic after glows, pastoral pretties and pure pristinely distilled English psychedelia. Lead single ‘if you like’ wobbles and weaves uncertain of its footing, almost lazily gorged upon a day dreaming head in the clouds obliviousness, scratchy and bent out of shape not to mention scuffed and dusted in the dirt of a wonkily fractured and frayed blues vibe, it devilishly sighs, snoozes and wheezes with the familiar lacklustre lilt of a solo era Syd Barrett and with that by our reckoning well worth the time investigating. https://soundcloud.com/stolenbodyrecords/7-if-you-like-24-bit/s-ZBaYO

More trip-a-delic happenings from our favourite wigged out weird ear welsh folk Sendelica with the ominous coming of a new head melting live set into turntable land courtesy of the hulking freak machine ‘live at immerhin’. On limited release and the first of several well-heeled releases being planned to assist in the celebration of the ensembles 10th anniversary. An absolute zonked out slab of fried progressive psych mysticism, as ever released on your now trademark standards CD, wax and splatter frazzled vinyl – the latter option alas sold out on pre-release in nano seconds. Typical of these musings we’ve cherry picked through the set list and opted to pick out the 15-minute head trip that is ‘manhole of the universe’ for amid the magic carpet ride into mind blowing transcendental trippiness you are heartily advised to strap yourself in and prepare to have your headspace turned to brain glue, a beard forming beauty veering into the smoking hazes of the mighty Acid Mothery dudes. Out soon via sunhair.   https://sendelica.bandcamp.com/album/sendelica-live-at-immerhin

Word from afar, well from Phil at 3.45rpm over in Brighton – far enough for you eh, that the latest request for his lathe cutting services arrived from Colin of Castles in Space – I do like this first name terms malarkey gives it a bit of personal touch don’t you find. Anyway there will be plenty of Castles in Space happenings next week – honest guv – though while we are here thought it best to mention a strictly limited to 45 only numbered lathe release featuring concretism which is made available for sale at the independent label market in spitalfields market next week, features an old track ‘beneath the city streets’ which though we’ve searched high and low for, alas we can’t cook up a sound cloud link – still we did happen to mention it in passing somewhere here last November https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2015/11/01/concretism-7/ – those of course missing their fix of Concretism grooviness – here’s a very old one from the vaults entitled ‘grey sky’ – mournful minimalism at its finest, we do adore its isolationist caress, that sense of a lost forgotten moment paused and set in a frost wrapped stasis around it, etchings of despair, decay and detachment hollow and howl in bleak bruised beauty.  https://soundcloud.com/concretism/grey-sky

Highly recommended is a free to download sampler set from the label that brought us that rather sublime debut full length from Cold Cold Heart. Los Angeles based Fluttery certainly do have a rare and proud pedigree for offering safe haven for the shy eyed strays that frequent the post rock / ambient / atmospheric spectrums as this sampler set rightly proves with forceful conviction, alas no rare cold cold heart off cuts with which to savour, instead a formidable twenty-four track showcase of some of the finest and most finite talents currently navigating the shallow waters of underground pop. Time constraints as ever mean that we will be returning on occasion to sample the delights within, however for now we suggest you turn your attention to a brace of gems that have smitten us since caressing our listening space. The bitter sweet opine of ‘air games’ by music for no movies is a delicacy best enjoyed when the rush of the day has faded and quite grace fall of solitude tales up its watchful post, both measured and airy, there’s the hint of a contemplative Vini Reilly lounging lazy eyed amid the grooves, a slowly peeled thoughtful moment captured and frozen, haloed in vapour trailed wisps and delicately crushed and caressed in reflection. Quite head bowed and hurting by our reckoning. Sleepstream in marked contrast cook up ‘the spirit’ – a gorgeously mellowing post rockian slow burner that snakes between moments of softly radiating beauty and glowering ripples of darkening portent, stately and magisterial not to mention shrouded in atmospherics and a svelte emotion rupturing craft that one might mistake for some sky firing face-off between the much missed Workhouse and Billy Mahonie.  https://flutteryrecords.bandcamp.com/album/free-sampler

What is there not to love about Shonen Knife, I mean they nail that whole three-minute buzz grooved bubble gum beat pop like they were the offspring of an illicit one-night sonic stand between the Ramones and the Shangri La’s, crafting out slinky salvos that strut, swagger and swoon with an acutely cute affectionate purr whose tangy citrusy twists are fused of 50’s teen beat, unfailing Spector-esque ear tugging immediacy, power popping throbs and a glam gouged pout – in all honesty irresistible. A new album ‘adventure’ is imminent via damnably with ‘jump into the new world’ being sent on ahead to seduce and snare your lobes, all at once fizzy, flirty and flighty, this honey comes sliding down along the sunny side of effervescent rainbows to radiate and reverberate with sparkly and spangly feel good vibes so full on and bracing you might wanna have a lie down after its visitation.

Smiley pepper-esque dreaminess from Andy Schauf courtesy of the woozy kaleidoscopic voyage that is ‘the magician’, a gorgeously hazy psychedelic carpet-ride orbiting magic lands populated and brimming in colourfully prettified pastoral pop borders and softly reclined honey spun hideaways that drift and morph to incorporate into their trip toned tapestry the fleeting whiff of a celebrated parade of musical bed fellows styled in a passing likeness of the likes of Epicycle, the Brigaduier, Oddfellows Casino and the Heart Strings and all led from the fore by a piper-esque Bacharach. A full length entitled ‘the party’ is tentatively in the wings waiting to appear.

The silver spun ghostly shimmer of the creaking violins, the playful darkly spirited key twinkles and the unseen hiss of shadowy breath, tis enough to have most shivering in terror behind the sofa wondering bleakly what lurks in the darkness. The latest ‘pitch’ from Barry Snaith, here cloaked under the guise of the inconsistent jukebox, this be ‘drain them / drain them again’ – a tension stricken noir mysterio gloomed in a sepia trimmed vintage that creeps with a macabre dripped psychosis troubled by the antecedent spectres of classic Hitchcock dream collages as though here supplanted into the abandoned nether world twilight landscapes of Bowie’s ‘blackstar’ only to be dusted and brought to a chilling closure with the futile finality of Morrocone’s coldly numb score from ‘the thing’.  https://soundcloud.com/barry_snaith/drain-them-drain-them-again

Musical interlude – found sounds – season 2:10 – ‘the coronation scot’

Forgive us for getting a little nostalgic, must be listening to those old ‘Paul Temple’ re-runs on BBC4 Xtra that’s doing it, this wonderfully chuffing n’ puffing slice of forgotten genteel Britain was composed by Vivian Ellis, bracing don’t you find – all rolling green pastures, pipes, tweeds, Ian Carmichael – and that stirring locomotive lilt, I could swoon, for many years the theme tune to the aforementioned Durbridge penned radio series starring Peter Coke and Marjorie Westbury.


Another of those curious bandcamp finds that we enjoy tripping over. This lot hail from Brazil, are called krokodil and this is the rather wired and freakish ‘principios do autoconhecimento obstriudo’ which I bet is really rude translated in to English. Anyhow this sore thumb caught our mainly for the fact that it’s so all over the shop and fractured, what first sounds an amphibious love in between Volcano the Bear and This Heat soon manages to lose the former and then the latter for ‘Aion’ rapidly sheds its skin to reveal the kind of acutely sharp grind gouged groove that happily draws the invisible dots existing between the Fire Engines, the Sinatras and the much loved Leeds based imprints Gringo and Brew – see hey colossus, I concur. Over on the flip, a real sore thumb awaits with the emergence of ‘jeapeysaka’ – a kind of stoner freaked no wave jazz spiked bad boy that skirts the outer edges of the more wiring out-there territories of the Henry Cow universe albeit as though lobotomised and surgically realigned by the folk over at foolproof projects. http://krokodilbr.bandcamp.com/album/princ-pios-do-autoconhecimento-obstru-do

Okay I hear you cry – well it’s a bit kitsch isn’t it, but admit it you are smitten by it, again another set we ambled across while journeying the band camp outer regions. This is Kim and Buran – though on re checking the credits could it just be Slava Zatyalow – and a full length entitled ‘orbita’. Described by its author as ‘space disco’ – and who are we to argue – ‘orbita’ is heaven for those of you whose idea of sonic bliss happens to come along dressed in a 70’s vintage that oozes the kind of futuristic floor flipping grooves once the domain of the likes of Space and Cerrone, at least that’s the case on the sumptuous cosmic cool of ‘jet disco’ which by our reckoning sounds like some orbiting hyper-galactic Studio 54 satellite – did anyone say a cosmic Chic. Elsewhere ‘voyager’ fixes its lunar trance toned gaze upon the wispy celestial terrains of Craig Padilla for some deftly dinked astral ambience which in truth finds the mighty Zombi smoked, seduced and slipstreamed into the head expanding trip-a-delic odyssey of Tangerine Dream. For now, on initial listens at least, best moment is the parting ‘teleskope’ – a divine dream weaved sonic space-walk softly slipstreaming as were into the orbital pull of a lunar docking spectacle embarked upon by la dusseldorf and jean Michel jarre. http://kimandburanmusic.bandcamp.com/album/orbita

Polytechnic youth alumni Middex are programmed to return to the fray sometime April with another slab of eerie minimalist disquiet courtesy of ‘brick walls take to air’. Much like their hugely adored ‘space sorry’ debut, this austere analogue sore thumb edgily tunes in to chilled emotionless psyche of the Normal to weave the kind of isolationist vintage much taken up by the hauntologist brigade these days with this shadow lined spectre ushering a detached kinship with Concretism with a side serving of a Foxx in situ Ultravox.


Visual interlude – found vision 1 – Tony Hancock

Agreed a slight detour, not quite your happening sounds but rather more one of the finest comedians ever to grace radio, tv film and stage – Tony Hancock here celebrated and critiqued in a superb documentary featuring commentary and observations from some of his closest friends. Also included here – prized from the Hancock’s half hour TV series – our favourite of all the episodes -‘Ericsson the Viking’ finds Tony persuaded by Sid to film his own TV series and sell it back to the BBC in order to make a financial killing, the results are typically hilarious with Sid’s cut up photography coming to its fore with the battle scene and the quartet of Viking hordes running for the bus just pure quality. 

Emerging out of period riddled with deep suspicion, the post war dividing line between the East and the West and the onset of the cold war brought with it an age of alienation, the point at which the founding plates of political theory and scientific discovery rubbed to forge a curious disharmonic alliance. For writers such as John Wyndham it provided a fertile hunting ground, imagined apocalyptic incidences and civilisation threatening scenarios that involved bacteria, super intelligences, plant life and telepathy. Based on Wyndham’s 1955 ‘the chrysalids’, downscope’s dark dread drilled soundtrack of the same name gives each of the novel’s leading characters a musical voice. Set in a post-apocalyptic future, ‘the chrysalids’ touches sharply on the themes of alienation, paranoia and segregation, a bleak foretelling of man’s fear of the different, anything not conforming to the supposed perfect gene model is banished to the wastelands of society with the story unfolding to tell the tale of a group of children who realise they have abilities that would be deemed by their elders as a blasphemy of nature. As said previously, Downscope gives each of the protagonists a musical tongue, the sounds are dark, distant and detached, etched with an eerie finality and groomed as pulsating hypno-grooving industrial drone tides which reference wise might be well viewed as a classic era Biosphere retooled by the Revenant Sea (as exemplified on ‘sophie’). These neural transmissions whirr to a locked grooved biometric / binary fingerprint that in truth veers ever so close to the subtronic sonic inner spaces once upon a time microscopically viewed by a youthful Pimmon, most chilling of all being the theme attached to the simmering ‘rosalind’ wherein the stilled dread of subterranic glitches and the overwhelming sense of isolation is tuned to its most effective though all said we here a more than a little taken by the playful mind vaporising churn of the disquieting dream machine drone of the parting ‘petra (storm mix)’. https://downscope.bandcamp.com/album/the-chrysalids

I’m fairly certain we’ve ambled across the Quiet World set in previous musings though just in case we haven’t, this is Ian Holloway, a resident of Swansea who operates under the guise of the British Space Group who has just collected a series of released EP’s entitled ‘phantasms’ (I – III) as a collective set called ‘the phantasmagoria’. What we are listening to at present is EP 3, described by their author as ‘radiophonic miniatures’ this set features sixteen ghost light caricatures emerging from the twilight shadows that slipstream from the ethereally beautiful to the haunting and ghostly (the macabre ‘the message’). Utilising noir scratched spy theme codas (as on the pensive and sinister b-movie cut away ‘the visitors arrive’), sci-fi-tronic vintage, Hammer Horror cutting room floor finds and regressive hypno hauntologist recalls, Mr Holloway crafts a sublimely disquieting mosaic that’s aside being shrouded in shadows and piecemeal memories reveals an affection for John Baker of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. Opener ‘the last hurrah’ slipstreams into the spectral playgrounds that flicker amid the fabled consciousness of the ghost box and concretism while ‘into the void’ is pure sinister suspense wrapped in skin prickling psychosis. The dream draped glassy orbs that float amid ‘a glimpse of lights in the depths’ recall the tripping collages that occasionally ghosted the Barry Gray score for ‘UFO’ while elsewhere the glowering mesmeric pulse of ‘through the skin of the water’ is icily framed and coldly draped as though a warning call from a fearful apparition from beyond the veil. All said our favourite moment comes in the shape of the playfully surreal magicalia that is ‘through the pellucid forest’ a warping wood crafted nursery rhyme tripped in the kind of kaleidoscopic kookiness that ties together the fractured worlds of the midwich youth club and the assembled minds. Certainly much here to adore itself to those admiring of everything from reverb worship to the villa9 studio not to mention the stray sonic cracks in between.  http://ian-quietworld.bandcamp.com/album/phantasms-3 

Sorry about these brief visitations into the Active Listener samplers, but of late we find ourselves hopping here there and everywhere, attention span of a goldfish in always tripping over groovy grooves with which to grace your listening space with. Treats aplenty adore the grooves of sampler #40 – for now just three select choice cuts to whet your appetite starting with ‘this strange effect’ from Shadowgraphs, a most alluring dream coat upon whose tapestry is woven kaleidoscopic effected 60’s mosaics trimmed in sepia hushes that ghost weave to a soft shade adorned shadowy psyche purr that hints of a Meek at the controls overseeing a love noting spectral studio soiree between the Clientele and the Apples in Stereo. Next up, something truly strange and deeply entrancing from firefay entitled ‘house on the strand’ – really is quite something, a ghostly and surreal folk flashing emerging from the same weird twilight netherworld where lurk Serafina Steer and Laura J Martin, all at once bewitching and beguiling, it ushers in on timeless though forgotten musical tongue dinked in the macabre merriment of May Day pageants and the sonic spell crafting of the olde – admirers of the hare and moon and all things the owl service / hobby horse will not go unrewarded. Last one for this visitation at least, something which we’ve had occasion to mention previously and featured again here because 1. It’s quite excellent and 2. Word reaches us that its author is pencilled in as a future polytechnic youth happening. Pulled from her recent EP entitled – er – ‘EP’ this is Faten Kanaan and ‘santo sospir’ – a simply divine slice of demurred kosmiche dream weaving softly crushed in Balearic afterglows, oceanic sprays and murmured in the ethereal etching of 80’s cinematic motifs, very much piloting a chill tipped Zombi – esque trajectory if I’m not much mistaken. http://theactivelistener.bandcamp.com/album/the-active-listener-sampler-40


more future polytechnic youth-ers, this is polypores – again mentioned in early despatches a little while back when, if memory serves right, we encountered his quite alluring ‘the investigation’ EP. Latest from his secret sound bunker somewhere in preston is a new 5 track EP entitled ‘lessons’ from which we’ve taken something of a shine to track number 3 – ‘lesson 3 – thru the telescope’ – more koolly kissed kosmiche I’m afraid, this ‘un fragmenting and fraying amid an excitable euphoric scramble made up of masses of wires, diodes and neural transmissions emanating deliriously from some distant galactic hive consciousness tripping out love noted distress calls across the great celestial voids, adorably affectionate by our reckoning.  http://polypores.bandcamp.com/album/lessons-ep

strange head expanding happenings with the appearance on sound cloud of an extended mesmeric montage no doubt recorded and cobbled together during a spot of studio down time. This is ‘sound collage’ – a 19-minute head trip from Norwegian folk Sleepyard. Not their usual kind of groove though I must admit to loving the way it drifts in and out of consciousness and I fear I may be sticking my neck out – I do hate these guess the voice moments – but isn’t that Elvis buried in the mix, really is dark and sometimes starkly disturbing, yet sit with it and there’s a ghostly melancholy that tearfully stains its appeal and some smoking cool bluesy opines all desolately dinked and spirited in a forlorn eeriness of woozy psych tipped mantras the type of which that tripped out of the Elektra imprint on rare occasion in the late 60’s. https://soundcloud.com/sleepyard/sound-collage

previous visitations –



quite a nice way to serenade and welcome your early Saturday morning don’t you think, especially since this fits the mood of the autumnal stillness outside. Picked this up via a face book posting, something old, recently found and latterly tinkered on by Amonism entitled ‘perpetual motion’. We do love the sound of cellos around these here parts, there’s a kind of melancholic majesty and a sense of a rustic at one with nature timelessness frozen within their genuflecting arc, so to with this little lulling overture, the syncopating opines and the dew dripped yawns evoke images of untroubled secret green pastures idly wakening to life to the precision timed clock working tick of mother nature’s daily cycle, effectively enchanting if you ask me. https://soundcloud.com/amonism/perpetual-motion

absolutely no information on this, mind you that said I’ve probably got an email stashed somewhere in the bulging in box with all manner of happenings, information and news with which to spread that’s still waiting to be stumbled over. SPC ECO are no strangers to these pages, they weave and craft a most magnetically alluring variant of dream pop that cleverly wires to its matrix sonic dialects from other generic disciplines such as trip hop and down tempo and more to create cinematic miniatures of such swooning breathless beauty. And while we thought we’d heard it all they go and drop the ‘All we have is now’ full length and with it, perhaps serve up their most complete and beguiling release to date. Four teaser tracks currently lurk on the sound cloud player, emotion fracturing beauties finitely cut in the kind of ice cooled sophistication that’s as enchanting as they are eerie, with a nod to the early 90’s Bristol scene and emerging from the dark side of Portishead, ‘troubles deep’ is ghosted in shadowy elegance, a spectral visitation torn delicately in noir whispers to unfold softly revealing a hushed intimate bruised beauty. No sooner are you struggling to find your wherewithal and along comes the lost and fading orphan ‘all you need’ all perilously dinked bitter sweetly upon a distressed and tearfully withdrawn dimly lit mosaic of ethereal noir lounge which reference wise sounds not unlike a more vulnerable Musetta. Thankfully more animated yet all the same still trimmed in a chill tipped cold charm, the dark waving ‘Alone’ is your star gazed spectral mysterio. Best of the quartet though by some distant, the angelic ‘all we have is now’ ripples with dream dazed tripping affection, a love noted slice of celestial wooziness softly kissed in the teasingly slow peel of euphoric raptures that hint of Cocteau-ian blissed beguilement. https://soundcloud.com/spc-eco/sets/all-we-have-is-now

musical interlude….found sounds…season 2:11….Ex Post Facto..

justified in being considered a lost classic, this is the frankly near perfect and stately sound of Ex Post Facto with the majestic ‘Oceanic Explorers’.

Visual interlude…..blatant advertising #1…Static Records’ Record Store Day strangeness….

Latest pull the plug transmission heading out of resonance FM features a sumptuous shoehorning of select sonic lovelies into its finitely pressed 30 minute soiree, among the gems on the decks some distractively dimpled day dreamy electronica from Quiet Noise courtesy of ‘generating’ – this cutie heading out of audiobulb is a melodic playground literally harvested with the affectionate bristling of pops, burps, twinkles and glitches, very genteel and tailored for laid back listening during a lazy moment. Those fancying a spot of lunar hypno-drone might prefer their listening space sedated by the trance toned kosmiche sounds of ‘larks’ by Helena Celle, a beautifully imagined orbiting crystal tipped carousel trimmed in 70’s analogue accents all glazed in minimalist Radiophonic murmurs. Frequent visitor to these pages, Klaus Morlock stoops in with ‘the chamber of lost dreams’ – a track which I’m suspecting we may have mentioned before, a wonderfully willowy slice of free spirited pastoral dreaminess that glides with genteel tailspin into the shadowy hauntologist hideaways of belbury poly – just wish the blighter would send over sound files. And did we mention Belbury Poly who as you all know feature courtesy of ghost box which by coincidence is the label upon which you find toitoitoi whose featured ‘golden green’ we mention way back at the tail end of last year when it found itself pressed on the flip side of their must have ‘other voices’ 7 inch – playfully lovely 70’s shimmered pastoral kosmiche – just hits the spot. https://www.mixcloud.com/Resonance/pull-the-plug-24th-march-2016/

Ms Celle has several albums out all of which have links via http://helenacelle.website/ however we suggest you turn your listening radar to the Larks’ set ‘a town for tomorrow’ notably feasting your lobes on the parting ‘I am sitting in a tomb’ which by our reckoning possesses nods aplenty to the measured slow burn contouring of fellow Glaswegian John Cavanagh / electroscope. http://larks.bandcamp.com/releases

There’s also a little video here for the title track ‘town for tomorrow’ – something for you 70’s vintage electro heads methinks

Talking of Klaus Morlock, well he’s just popped up again with a new set. ‘pale rider Jane’ is an imagined full length from 1976 by the Black Zodiak, two untitled cuts previewing on sound cloud reveal a sound very much courting the afterglow of the 60’s whilst similarly imbibed on the weird Brit Horror folk flashings of the 70’s, something which drews heavily upon a sonic / style kinship to those well-heeled outings emerging on occasion from out of the Villa9 studios, the organ saturated noodling of the first ushering in a free spirited funky feel woozy with trip-a-delic lounge cultures with the latter sighed in the ghostly spun of a dream woven magicalia whose dissipating crystalline kaleidoscopic eeriness twinkles uncannily to the spectral rustics of the hare and the moon. https://soundcloud.com/les_baxter/pale-rider-jane-by-the-black-zodiac-1976

Three-hour goth mixtape anyone? Eyed this on the electronic beats site, rammed end to end with darkly woven post punk gothica and damn fine with it, agreed it omits some glaring usual suspects – such as the sex gang children, the mob, march violets, Bauhaus, uk decay and no doubt many more that have presently slipped instant recall but does manage to shoehorn in a gruesome gallery of forgotten souls including blood and roses, specimen, twisted nerve, virgin prunes, the nuns and chrome – all grimly cobbled together by the secret thirteen collective.  http://www.electronicbeats.net/feed/a-3-hour-long-mixtape-of-goth-history/ or http://secretthirteen.org/s13-burning-the-existence/

And a little Sex Gang Children from back in the day…..

Okay this is getting a little morbid now but I’m sure you’ll kind of agree fits well with the last posting. Anyway, again something else that I eyed on a random face book posting – if it’s to be believed – and well – April Fool’s Day is next week – then this must surely be the ultimate record collecting obsessive’s parting shot, read on, told you it was morbid. http://www.intlmusicsnobs.com/post/56526679881/get-your-ashes-pressed-into-vinyl-when-you-die or http://www.andvinyly.com/

A little late to the table with this mainly due to the fact that we’ve erroneously mislaid the CD for now, but this is the latest arrival from Bureau B, from Qluster, the trio’s 6th full length entitled ‘echtzel’ finds them returning to their electronic foundations courting a thoughtfully introspective pose that’s genteel and reflective not to mention sweetly allured in lights lowered sprays ushering forth becalming bouquets of whispering lunar tonalities, the moods both light and cosy toed hark to an era of simplicity uncluttered and mellowed in minimalist murmur tones. https://soundcloud.com/bureau-1/qluster-echtzeit-snippets-out-march-4-2016

Elsewhere on Bureau B, an excellent archival find revealing a duo’s sonic vision so far ahead of the curve at the time of its release that even today it still sounds like a musical page still to be turned. Wolfgang Baumann and Ata Koek entered the famous studios of Conny Plank in the mid 70’s to record the largely forgotten ‘Baumann / Koek’ – their only album, it was slipped out quietly in 1978, self-distributed without fuss or ceremony. Amid its grooves a revealing of pre techno(id) blueprints, its pulsating beats slipstreaming between the prevailing kosmiche dialects of the day and the machine murmured futurism of the isolationist synthetic sounds emanating from out Europe all woven into a brightly effervescent and fizzing cosmic carousel whose wide screen cinematic lushness blended oriental mosaics with surround sound head phonic oceanic hypno-grooves. https://soundcloud.com/bureau-1/baumannkoek-snippets-reissue-out-jan-29-2016

There’s also the small matter of a humungous Cluster box set just out – a nine album treat packed with oodles of grooves and goodies – details here –  https://shop.tapeterecords.com/records/bureaub/cluster-1979-1981-9-album-boxset.html

while for those that missed it, like us, there’s a nifty little 14 track sampler you can download featuring a generous picking of the labels 2015 releases that includes offerings from ESB, Automat, Die Wilde, Lloyd Cole and Camouflage. Can’t say fairer than that. https://soundcloud.com/bureau-1/sets/14-free-downloads-best-of-bureau-b-2015 

Another of those band camp finds I’m afraid, this woozy and wonky soul tinkered, tweaked and trimmed on dust gathered analogue devices no doubt in a secret sonic shed is the handiwork of Pete Hackett here masquerading under the alter ego Cloud Waste and the Calf. Found stepping back through some hitherto unseen time tunnel into the past, ‘class of 1981’ features six minimally toned miniatures swirling fondly in orbital parade spraying vivid coloured dustings into a would monochrome cold war age. Again something that ought to at first hand, appeal to all those of you much attuned to the sonic geography of the likes of ghost box, concretism, midwich youth club, polytechnic youth and more besides (as exemplified on the wonky motoric ice cream van fracturing sound of the delightfully dinked ‘social studies’), this collection is oozed in found memories and imagined landscapes, ghost lights seeping forth into the present like ghostly impressions, much like some lost and forgotten soundtrack to some children’s hour sci-fi spot or an archaic Open University presentation, ‘class of 1981’ cleverly plugs playfully into the whole hauntologist dictum, from the moment the opening ‘ident’ rears into earshot you are immediately back to an age of adventure and industry, an era of pre mobiles / computers and commercialist gimmicks, instead incubated by innocence, wonder and hope spirited on by panoramic swathes of star gazing dream drifts and the ghostly opines of future’s to arrive, best moment of which ‘science club’ is traced in the kind of ice dripped Radiophonic cosmic eeriness that once upon a time loitered amid the grooves of youthful Maps and Diagrams works.  http://cloudwasteandthecalf.bandcamp.com/album/the-class-of-1981 

Not that we are complaining, but we are somewhat waded down at present by a creaking hard drive of album zip files all of which we are hoping to assemble into some order for review later this week. Among those currently hooked up for immediate inspection, is, I think I’m right in saying, new groove from the mighty Earthling Society, I say I think I’m right in saying, only we’ve temporarily lost sight of the email that came accompanying them. Anyway, whatever the case – that is looming – however for now here’s an oldie, from a solo project headed up by Earthling Society main man Fred Laird, this is the hulking bliss kissed brain groove ‘the star child – part 2’ from a set put out in 2014 entitled ‘moon of Ostara’ which I’m sure you’ll agree freewheels sublimely into the milky mind melting orbs of an Ozric-ian Floyd dream state journeying through the magnified inner worlds of ‘shine on you crazy diamond’ – sit back, strap yourself in for what is a 15 minute mind morphing out there and gone odyssey.  https://earthlingsociety.bandcamp.com/track/the-star-child-part-2

Musical interlude…found sounds 2:12…klan

Formed in Warsaw in the late 60’s, here’s a nifty slab of garage psych from the Klan dating from 1970, entitled ‘automaty’ this lost freakbeat gem comes adored in all manner of wigged out kookily cooled threads to which comes weaved upon its tapestry some tripping stoned out struts, woozy dream sequences and moments of mind zapped hard wired blues.

Eyed this on a posting recently, mentioned in passing a little while back, this is the extraordinary and markedly ahead of the curve ‘the flowers of evil’ by Ruth White. Recorded in 1969 this horrorphonic occult hidden gem still sounds as far out, distractively disorientating and weirdly macabre today as it must have sounded all those years ago. The album is available on limited download from the excellent An album a day. Everyday. 365 site which for the last year or so has seemingly been rifling through its record collection and posting up streams and downloads aplenty, a heady broad spectrum mixing rare moog experiences with kitsch, lounge, bubblegum pop, children’s themes, show tunes and big band releases – the latest of which incorporates a quite dandy set from ’62 from Ray Anthony and his Bookends entitled ‘the twist’ – Anthony the last surviving member of the Glenn Miller ensemble was foremost known as a trumpeter and band leader – from the album here’s a tasting of ‘peter gunn’ and ‘tequila with a twist’ given a swing-tastic street cool fruity and funky makeover – eat your heart out John Lurie.



pulled from a forthcoming set ‘ears’ for Western Vinyl, a label in recent times who we must admit we’ve taken our eye off, this is Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith with the quite amazing ‘existence in the unfurling’ – we do love the way this just radiates, a fixed point purring pulsar, agreed it does sound like a shyly toned lunar lulled Fever Ray, its mellowing murmurings softly ebbing and flowing with genteel calm with its tiny little undulations shifting delicately in definition and direction like some eclipsing visitation casting reverberating sprays of kosmiche bubbles to which within its amorphous 11-minute mind drift cycle, smother you softly and cradle you within its hermetically sealed orbital fluffy flurries, best enjoyed in full on headphonic glory with the volume racked to maximum, that way you get to fall head long and deep into sensuous surround sound folds. https://soundcloud.com/western_vinyl/kaitlyn-aurelia-smith-2

the last few weeks saw the passing of two more icons from my childhood both of whom I felt deserved a mention – respect and sadness for both Vlasta Dalibor and Sylvia Anderson. Vlasta along with her husband Jan were the creators / puppeteers behind Pinky n’ Perky. The keen eyed among you will no doubt be all too aware that we cite Pink n’ Perky as one of our earliest heroes, our first forays into buying records was as a very, very small child having my mum exchanging hard worked pocket money for one of their platters these pop purring piglets captivated children and adults alike in the 60’s with their helium chirping pop parade, rumours abound that Elvis was so enamoured that he often dropped by at their shows when they appeared in Las Vegas. A deeper child hood impression was left by both husband and wife team Gerry and Sylvia Anderson. For those of a certain vintage, the Andersons’ Gerry and Sylvia were a fixed point in our lives, the voice of Lady Penelope, Sylvia was a vital part of the whole Anderson universe / operation, who for many years hid in the shadow of her husband Gerry, whilst he took the credit of reshaping children’s TV in the 60’s with his futuristic sci-fi puppets – Captain Scarlet, Thunderbirds, Stingray – and later to iconic live action status courtesy of ‘UFO’ and ‘Space 1999’, Sylvia was often demoted in creative status terms always passed off as being responsible for the back room fashioning of the TV21 stars, however a recent broadcast of ‘last word’ on BBC Radio 4 alluded to the contrary with the couple’s daughter Dee championing her mother’s humanity, creativity and integral input into this far reaching and lasting legacy.   




Heading out of the different recordings imprint imminently, well now as it happens, release date some two weeks ago it seems, this is ‘willow’ from henry crinkle, alas no info on this, so we can’t tell you for certain whether it’s an album or a single. What we are certain of though is that this slyly funky gem cuts an adept dash into the kind of subterranic terrains explored by Wagon Christ and Squarepusher, a devilishly bouncing bass undercut and some acute isolationist idents make this a hulking hypno morphing minimal club floor shape cutter.  https://soundcloud.com/henry-krinkle/willow

Musical interlude…found sounds ..season 2:13…13th floor elevators…

Apologies to whoever posted / shared this today, we’ve lost the credit details – but this blew us away earlier in the day, the complete ’66 Kazz performance by the 13th floor elevators…

<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/114670627″>13th Floor Elevators, NEWLY FOUND, Feb 1966 entire KAZZ broadcast from Austin</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/user18708354″>Jeff Hill</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

Strange found happenings from the Scarfolk community, this be the folk of children of the hum seemingly celebrating the whirring communications emanating from pylons, seriously don’t shoot the messenger, tis all very late 70’s Quatermass and curiously quintessentially English wyrd at its most, well, weird, A kind of updated treatment of ye olde village green mayday jigs and pagan pageantry newly translated into a modernist tongue oozing in secrecy and conspiratorial conversations with elders from outer space. ‘archive recording 076’ is not for the feint hearted, gruesome forebodings, darkening murmurings, surreal séances and ghostly playground recitals endow this with a disturbing chill which to these ears lurks amid a foggy twilight turning where sit at one end the Hare and the Moon whilst to the other those cheerful souls Wizards Tell Lies.  http://childrenofthehum.tumblr.com/

Moving swiftly on from the children of the hum, many thanks are indeed due to the folk at Wyrd Daze who kindled our curiosity their way in the first place, fond mentions for this multi-media publication have long been promised and will land before your very eyes later in the week. However, for now, may we be so bold to draw your attention to a superb mix whittled out in his sonic wood shed by the Ephemeral Man out of a rare treasure trove of out-takes, demos, alternate mixes and the like committed to tape by the late Mr Bowie. Entitled ‘the ephemeral man plays Bowie’ this extended mix provides a mammoth head tripping 2-hour detour into the lesser known and more experimental gems to be found populating Mr Bowie’s rich and varied expansive back catalogue, as the man says in his liner notes ‘a revelation’ – incidentally ends fittingly mournful with the forgotten perfection that is the 60’s daydream fading carnival of sound that is ‘After all’.  https://www.mixcloud.com/The_Ephemeral_Man/the-ephemeral-man-plays-bowie/

Folks among you with longish memories might well recall a time when these pages came adorned with fond words aplenty for Moonwood, some dandy releases and then he went off radar, out of earshot straying ultimately far beyond our affectionate gaze until now that is, whereupon eyes were pricked with a posting by one Jakob Rehlinger, for it is he, who is Moonwood. The posting alluded to a spot of ‘twin peaks’-esque magicalia sonically shaped by the Moonie one entitled ‘there is a man in a smiling bag’ which he describes as a homage to Angelo Badalamenti. Not kidding right for this babe comes pressed up on a glorious sonic fusion whose palette is drawn of a demurred though bitter sweet incline that’s invested in elements of spy theme noir a la John Barry and ghostly spaghetti western visitations hinting of Morricone all sumptuously set in a spectral seduction that’s graced in a mesmeric cinematic haloing. https://soundcloud.com/arachnidiscs-recordings/there-is-a-man-in-a-smiling-bag   

Briefly back with the Resonance FM hip hugging strut-a-rama groove machine that is ‘pull the plug’ – this I suspect is the show before the last we mentioned last week – gets all confusing around here a fact not made any easier by the shows presenters who really do sound like they’ve been, not so much burning the candle at both ends, but torching the blighter. Anyway show #270 opens in fine style with a spot of Topos Locos who I’m disappointed to say never did send finished copies of that spiffing split with the blue giant zeta puppies from a month or three back, still, good to see that that their cover of the Cryin Shames’ come on back’ is getting a second lease of life courtesy of being included on the latest psych assortment from the Active Listener crew, this babe a fuzzed out slab of cool freakbeat shimmered in tastings of the Chocolate Watchband. Sad to say that the sigmaticle tour green have thus far made a good job of avoiding our ever keen eared radar, the title of this alone ought to give you an idea where this is heading for ‘funk the galaxy’ sounds like a one stop party pack that’s been dropped kicked straight out of the early 70’s – literally oozes wah wah’s whilst cooled with a devilishly old school funk undercut that had us here fondly rummaging around the place for our prized Stex and Panda Gang grooves. Next up another cut from a newest from Quiet Noise from his Audiobulb release – an outing we really must try and root out because this offering ‘need a minute’ is crushed with the kind of lilting lullaby like sepia sleepiness that we do so adore around these here parts, admirers of the minimal treats that occasionally escape the flau and la bel imprints will adore in abundance. Klaus Morlock has been popping up in these pages with such frequency that we are considering asking for rent, this amorphous ghost light entitled ‘arrival’ initialy starts sweetly sprayed in the lush colouring of adoring pastorals before ominously straying off the path to venture spectral shadowlands charmed in lifeless twilights. There ought to be more Wyrdstone featured in these pages I hear you cry and rightly so if the calibre and crystalline execution of ‘meditation on lost gardens’; is anything to judge by, to the choruses of bird song, this genteel wood crafted rustic charms with a lazy eyed lull that’s not unlike the reclining calm brought to bear by both rg Morrison and ab leonard. Lunar grave wrap up matters for this particular transmission with ‘the towers of mir’ – a sky waving soft psych dream coat that on initial listens ought to provide the kind of head shrooming groove for those much admiring of the hookworms et al, all dissipating reverbs and fuzz toned vapour trails – damn tasty by our reckoning. https://www.mixcloud.com/Resonance/pull-the-plug-17th-march-2016/

Another mix cloud transmission I’m afraid, this one the latest to be curated by Jon Brooks of the Advisory Circle, a sublime 48-minute gathering of celestial loveliness amid which you’ll encounter ghosts from the past, present and future in the shape of eleven pristinely picked pretty posies. This lilting bouquet opens to the bruising vapour vision that is ‘erik’s song’ by Slowdive before dreamily dissipating and re-imagining itself anew as Bibio’s ghost like ‘dye the water green’ which if anything should serve as a perfect listening experience to those admiring of Beatify Junkyards not to mention a most surrendering separated at birth mosaic to schizo fun addicts’ ‘dream of the Portugal keeper’. Up next faten Kanaan impresses with ‘planet 898 / circle is drawn’ sweetly unfurling to sound like some hitherto forgotten studio face-off in the late 90’s between broadcast / plone and pram. Talking of the bright lights of Birmingham’s late 90’s intake to the academy of strange pop, there’s a sparse elegance attaching to beaunoise’s version of ‘gymnopedie no.1’ that had us here reaching for our prized Plone platters. I’m almost at a loss to admit that thus far Wax Stag have never troubled our listening space, so while we rustle about redirecting ourselves to some no doubt bountiful bandcamp page here’s the quite delightful ‘the greatest grace’ doing all manner of vintage cosmic carousels much, it has to be said, in the style of those lovable polytechnic youth folk. Those of you adoring the shimmering sounds of bowed chimes and sonic water features will find Karl Fousek’s ‘seventh’ a moment of tranquil heaven while the much adored around here anyway, Sarah Davachi trips in with some slow dripped drone hypno groove courtesy of the porcelain shimmer-toned ‘wood green’ which if anything ought to endear herself to the Transmat community  while best moment of the set and admittedly a bit of an ear opener, trembling blue stars wrap matters with the quite incredible ‘radioactive decay’ – very Flying Saucer Attack meets Sonic Boom. https://www.mixcloud.com/TRANSVERSALES/mix-15-jon-brooks/

To be honest, I was not expecting this. Not content with already hitting us with a killer cut courtesy of the Wooltones’ Byrds-ian smoker ‘iron eyes cody’ whilst also featuring on the latest Active Listener sampler ‘the great British Psychedelic trip – revisited’ with a blister kissed cover of the Monkees’ ‘(I’m not your) steppin stone’, it seems Mr Clarke has now shifted through the gears a tad in terms of the mercurial and the majestic with the arrival of ‘in my dreams’. I don’t mind admitting that this hasn’t strayed from the player since emerging into earshot earlier today, cool crooning opines toasted upon smoking countrified inclines all cut to the quietly magical symphonic gracefulness and emotion impacting nuances that once upon a time caressed the other worldly balladry of a certain Roy Orbison course through this immeasurable slice of pop classicism, rooted in the seemingly lost art of grand song craft, it’s palette absorbs and echoes everything from Del Shannon to Jon DeRosa stopping at all relevant keynote points between, just listen for the chorus where the harmonies dip when you expect them to rise wherein everything goes psychedelically muddy and eerie for just a brief second – utter bliss. 

Pulled from a forthcoming collection dedicated to S’Express entitled ‘enjoy the trip’ – a celebration of Mark Moore and S’Express is due to descend on turntable land this coming May whereupon the grooves will fizz and frazzle to a stellar cast of contributors paying respect and homage. Among the heavyweight guest list chris and cosey, horse meat disco, ray mang and tom furse – the latter of whom has just dropped off a spiffing re-trim of the ‘theme from S’Express’ into the bargain servicing it with a club land swooning interstellar etching lanced in body locking laser light strobes and deep funk hypno-grooving droid-tronic motifs. https://soundcloud.com/markmoore01/01-sexpress-theme-from-sexpress-tom-furse-update

Heading this way sometime early June, new groove from the Psychic Ills in the shape of a new Sacred Bones platter titled ‘inner journey out’ from which this little nugget has been culled as an early warning call. ‘I don’t mind’ is a lazy eyed mysterio that features a guest vocal appearance by Hope Sandoval, all smoking reclines clipped in the kind of hazily glazed wooziness that imagines some studio soiree gathering together a bliss kissed Ghost and a head in the clouds dream dazed Cheval Sombre all oozed in the sublime serving of smoking slide riffs and dust dinked snake winding opines/


A much welcome and unexpected sight lazing on our doormat this morning was a package containing new groove from Fruits de Mer, this be their May parade….as ever limited in nature in eye catching variants of coloured wax and starting the festivities with…….the return of July. Yes folks tis true, joining the esteemed FdM roster for a one off soiree, prized from their ‘resurrection’ full length this is an extended mix of ‘can I go back’ – a hallucinogenic hymnal of sorts amid whose head frying mind expanding grooving a magic carnival is uncorked and left to colour your listening space in a musical tailoring that reaches backwards, forwards and into the great beyond. All at once crooked, wonky and quintessentially birthed and voiced in English psych, this tripping tapestry mutates and morphs to a delightfully quaint delicacy cultured in tastings of Eastern transcendentalism, stoner blues and kaleidoscopic kisses of forgotten far out 60’s mosaics, the ultimate melodic magic carpet ride. Over on the flip an early demo version of the same cut here trimmed as a trip-a-delic dreamcoat dressed in Terrascopic threads and sounding to these well-tuned ears like some wig flipped freakbeat fryer cooked up by those loon dudes Cranium Pie.  

Second FdM serving for May time merriment is a rather spiffing four track set from Crystal Jacqueline. Again pressed up on seven inches of coloured wax and limited in availability, this set features three exquisite covers and one original penning with Icarus Peel accompanying throughout. A truly enigmatic collection ghosted with a divinely ethereal spiriting as is typified with each successive release by Ms Jacqueline, listening to her is akin to leaving reality having ventured upon some magical twilight lair where mysticism and mystery usher forth their strange seduction and where references, should you need them, beckon in the direction of Jefferson Airplane.  What makes Crystal Jacqueline such an engaging listening experience is her ability to stamp her own authority and ownership upon a song, remember her version of the Stones’ ‘play with fire’, it’s a craft so indelibly brought to the fore on her reading of Tim Rose and Bonnie Dobson’s ‘morning dew’ here arrested and reframed anew as a bliss kissed fairyland peppered in the ghostly allure of dream dazed free spirited folk fancies. ‘ivy’ the self-penned of the quartet is curved and caressed as a slyly delirious vintage apparition, a sedate and surrendering Mellow Candle spirited in forest hazes if you must. Pastoral sighs and psych rustics coalesce sweetly upon the airy ‘moonsong: pelog’ re-frame, originally a hit for Joe Byrd and the Field Hippies, admirers of Jackie Lee will find favourable familiarity here. However, all said, best of the four is the parting ‘sally, go round the roses’ – this soul smoker from ’63 by the Jaynetts – produced by Spector if I recall rightly – was blessed with a killer organ accompanying it, left in the very capable hands of CJ and Mr Peel they completely strip it to its bare bones and rebuild it as a hazily glazed murmur-toning arabesque shimmered in shadowy shades of spectral Doors-ian psych soul. Quite perfect.    

Third and final May time outing from the FdM collective comes courtesy of the quite amazing Sendelica. Wowzah might be as good a place as any upon which to start this particular critique, by way of celebrating their 10th anniversary ‘the Cromlech Chronicles’ arrives as a strictly limited coloured wax album housed in a luxurious gatefold sleeve replete with poster (there is fevered talk that a specially commissioned box set version is in the planning) – a mammoth set recorded last year live in the studio, it reveals the band in their full cosmidelic progian finery laying down a gloriously immersive 40 minute plus head tripping sonic odyssey. Occupying a side of its own, the towering 22-minute long ‘the cromlech suite’ embarks to initially plot a sonic trajectory directly in the heart of an early 70’s Floyd hive mind, a colossal headphonic delight cruise controlling upon airless astral glides dimpled, adored and flanked by bliss fused arc lights that ripple and radiate to decorate the blackening lifeless voids in multi-coloured vapour trails of star gazed space rock dissipates whilst all the time shifting upwards and downwards through the gears one minute crafting out serenely bonged out dream drifts, the next upping the ante several notches for some cranium fracturing locked down face melting g-forced cosmic boogie which at various refuelling points embraces the blurring elements of mugstar, the heads, ozric tentacles and hawkwind as it jettisons by. Over on the flip three more would be epics wrestle for affection, included here a superbly hulking and eye opening re-reading of Flower Travellin’ Bands’ ‘Satori Pt 1’ here ghosted in a smoking rain dripped jazz noir grizzled casting which arguably would, had it appeared on other lesser mortal’s albums, been hailed as something of classic fixed point in their career, is somewhat relegated to something of a supporting act to both ‘Vellichor’ and ‘Zenosyne’ – the latter of which seemingly entering the hallowed domain of the Master Musicians of Bukkake takes on the summoning air of an Acid Mothers mystic mirage sent forth across sun scorched desolate plains showering all in woozily toned wah wah’s and shimmering haloes of stoned out eastern trance psych hullucinogenia  which all said veer ever so sublimely into Embryo terrains. That said favoured cut of the set surely has to be ‘Vellichor’, a rare moment of cinematic majestic intimacy that reveals the bands tender side, never quite have I heard them sounding so mellowed, sensitive and seductive not to mention symphonically graceful let alone touched with something of the bruised and romantic here adoring trimmed in the surrendering lush hush of hazy ambient sheens and the sighing crest fall of forlorn riffola. 

Staying with Fruits de Mer a little way longer, the keen eyed among you may recall we had a few teething issues with the latter two tracks featured on the imminent Claudio Cataldi ‘here she comes now’ 7 inch, well I’m happy to say that Keith at the label came through with spare to hide our frustrated blushes. Tagged on the flip side of the aforementioned in comer treats aplenty come in the shape of a brace of tracks hand-picked from Mr Cataldi’s back catalogue the first of which ‘final’ is lassoed to a soft shadow lined psych twilight tethering which strangely sits and stares hypnotically weaving woozy mantras which in truth curiously join the hitherto invisible dots existing between Beatglider and working for a nuclear free city. ‘ropes and strings’ wraps up matters with a spot of rustic willowyness which if my ears don’t deceive possess about its grooves the quietly toned spirit of a certain Lupen Crook about its wares. Anyway it does also give us an excuse to include the sound links to the sterling cover re-appraisal of the Velvets classic, not that we needed it…oh and just in case you missed the main review first time of asking, well no excuses now for its here…. https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/03/03/claudio-cataldi/

Best filed under dream drone, there’s something desirably lulling about this little murmur toning mosaic, its ghostly vapour trails softly smothering the masked ethereal choral gently spiriting away seductively in the mix, perhaps it’s the fracturing ghost-lights at its descent that hint of a ‘pornography’-esque Cure haziness or its crystalline ice frosted yearning opines demurring with sophisticated mellowness that spiral and spray a sedate and languid lull to proceedings that oblige us to go off in search of our prized Sunray stash. More so, is it the strangely beguiled eastern mantras much like a distant call of an oncoming drift wind ridden upon by invaders of the heart after some sonic doodling by Flying Saucer Attack that urges us to hit the repeat button with hypnotic fashioning, we need answers. Anyway this might or might not be twin music or perhaps even Mekanoset, whatever the case its quite temptingly trance-y.  https://soundcloud.com/twin-music-2/messiah

Ah, is it really ten years ago, I remember the days when we used to get sent egg sandwiches and hand-drawn Christmas cards through the post whilst joyously pouring and bopping with unbridled affection to whatever latest sonic delight they’d cared to commit to tape via the acutely cool imprints Filthy Little Angels and Cherryade (both now long since sadly gone). Impish schizoid pop pups the lovely eggs this year celebrate a decade of adoring the nations turntables with acutely chaotic n’ crooked often comedic punk psyched bubble groove with a short tour later this month and a selection of specially cobbled together vinyl appearances that’ll see them not only appearing on a specially curated compilation for record store day being cooked up by too pure entitled ‘pay no attention’ but the limited issue of their first three albums ‘if you were fruit’, ‘cob dominos’ and ‘wildlife’ all on makes your eyes wonky coloured vinyl. For those among you who can’t make the raucously surreal hijinks happenings of their select party appearances can don paper hats aplenty and toast said events at leisure whilst swinging your pants to this crooked do it yourself lovely eggs disco…..

Parental guidance warning – features loud sounds, sweary bits, anarchic humour, men in dresses, singing eggs, dandy tunes and in some cases John Shuttleworth.

‘people are twats’

‘have you ever heard a digital accordion’

‘don’t look at me (I don’t like it)’


Much like most of these strange delights that we have occasion to trouble these pages with, we can’t exactly recall whereupon or from whom we acquired and tripped over this odd sounding sonic sore thumb. We think it’s by Future Disguises who may have visited upon these musings by way of previous mentions in recent times, anyhow this is ‘graveyard cassanova’ an eerie noir graced ghost light fractured in all manner of sepia traced disturbia and psychosis initially emerging on the dark side of the Cure’s ‘lullaby’ before crookedly manifesting into something scored by an extra curricula sounding hobbyist experimenter David J during Bauhaus’ peak of populist creativity.  https://soundcloud.com/megaloid-industries/graveyard-cassanova

I’ll be the first to admit that it was the name that attracted us, our curious and inexplicable selection policy does indeed precariously waver upon such whims as most eye catching sleeves, daftest song title, previously unheard labels and of course coolly monikered band names, on this occasion Carbonates of Mars who here serve up the quite divine sounding ‘ambient sunrise’ which in truth is about as apt a title as we’ve heard in an age. The subtle seasoning of Oriental dialects dissolving and dissipating into the milky cosmic ether to the sound of sighed bowed chimes shimmering upon ethereal whispers to create oceanic dream drifts unless our ears do deceive, a gorgeously lulling sound palette that evokes far flung lunar moon paradises stirring from their slumber swooned by the svelte exotic rapture of tropicalic alarm calls. https://soundcloud.com/carbonates-on-mars/ambient-sunrise

Following our last mention of Mr Gofton a few weeks back, we received a quickly fired reply from the man himself alerting us that new groove from the Great Electric was in the can awaiting upload to general public consciousness whilst in addition directing us to more taste making morsels from his new alter ego All Golden which by the sounds of things is becoming a start of a weekly welcoming tradition that should it continue apace we will be tapping into. The darkly turned ‘Monday 3’ is a slight – well in truth – an abrupt about turn to the lilting tones of ‘Monday 2’s delta blues finger plucking, are we allowed to say brooding and somewhat pathological oh well we already have, this shadow playing moocher stalks the grooves embracing a kind of panic anxious channelling of the buzz sawing dystopian future groove of Add N to X and the early career psych pricked psychosis of Echoboy nuff said I think. Those fancying their listening experience a little less dour and gloomed might be advised to opt for the All Golden remix treatment adored upon fairewell’s ‘honey street’ – all right it is three years old now but still sounds a peach with the All Golden one trading on his luxuriant dream draped J Xaverre accents with Fairewell emerging from the upgrade sounding not unlike a Paul Humphrey’s headed up OMD twinkle toned in mellowing China Crisis / Lotus Eaters murmurs.



many thanks to Jim Peters for sending over the latest Melmoth the Wanderer visitation, we promised to feature this earlier but in truth decided to wait for the kind of apt setting that the descent of darkness would provide. Before we proceed though, can we at least dispense with the embarrassment of me failing miserably to identify all the various sonic players that flicker and flitter within. Settled, good – shall we take a walk then, a sleepwalk perhaps and a surreal one at that for titled ‘I summon thee’, the Melmoth one takes us by the hand on a non to altogether disturbing 35-minute dream where cloaked spirit guides steer upon ghostly still waters to embark upon secret places far beyond the veil of reality, a place shadowed in twilight fog, a midway place finitely balanced between life and death where scream the tortured and where play the innocent, all around glowering in the thickening mist chill a foreboding sonic séance both enchants and haunts with impish delight looping past visions and futures to arrive with a disquieting tormented merriment subsuming apparitions of folk follies with groaning apocalyptic dreads. Unsettling stuff.   https://www.mixcloud.com/Melmoth_The_Wanderer/i-summon-thee/?play=fb&fb_action_ids=937493979690777&fb_action_types=mixcloud%3Aupload

apologies to the Bordellos, we did have this planned to be featured many weeks ago, but somehow like a fair few things around these here parts, it got buried in the bulging in box. But enough grumbling and excuses, the latest free download – volume 4 as it happens – of the ‘underground tapes’ features four more tracks plucked from their extensive archive, many of which we have to admit we’ve had the pleasure of featuring in these very pages through previous mentions. However for those of you slightly behind the curve, a little cautionary recap, for its quite obvious that the Bordellos might not be everyone’s cup of tea, they are quintessential Peel fodder and with that comes the irks and quirks that such troublesome labelling brings with it, like the Fall it’s not immediately obvious where they draw influence, flashes of the Velvets when they are at their most lucid are strangely curbed and derailed by a deep love for the Teardrop Explodes that manifests oddly into a misshapen garage psych goo whose recurring reference marker seesaws between Half Japanese and Of Arrowe Hill, that said they are a curious force of nature who at the drop of a hat can turn up gems like ‘temperature drop’ and ‘melody inn’ with the shrug of a shoulder. ‘volume 4’ gathers together four such sore thumbs, it finds St Helens finest in a darkening and restless mood the main event here being a bruising and mellowing harmonica laced session version of ‘weird k’ pulled from a Dandelion radio appearance though with a spare arm twisted up the back, personally we are on the ‘spinning like Julian Cope’ side of the musical fence, a slightly fraying around the edges discordant fuzz bomb that might just plant a festering earworm seed in your lobes obliging you to hit the repeat button.  http://bordellos.bandcamp.com/album/the-bordello-underground-tape-vol-4

be honest, a bit of a darling this one which is just as well because the new thing from the Orielles really does swoon, swirl and seduce like Allo Darlin at their very finest,’jobin’ the lead out track from their latest three track EP is a lazy eyed lovely seasoned in sunny arrests and trimmed in the delectable sigh of fading sultry after glows whilst kissed with a shade adorning kick that cools ever so seductively to a prime time Primitives. Over on the flip, the acutely bruised ‘twin freaks’ comes honeycombed in the vapour hang of chiming sky soaring sea breeze whose adoring riff opines and delicate yearn hints of a sonic tryst gathering together Sundays and Frente types while bringing up the rear the muscularly up to the mark ‘sliders’ locks its sights to spray your listening space in jet streaming pockets of heart racing effervescence. The EP incidentally out via art is hard comes lovingly adorned upon a 7 inch flexi disc all housed inside a 20-page colouring book, quite frankly no excuse for not subscribing.   https://artishardrecords.bandcamp.com/album/jobin-ep

what’s fast becoming the apologies corner, I’m certain we have this gem tucked away on our hard drive somewhere along with oodles of other Arell groove all awaiting due care, attention and listening love. For now, though this is ‘undergrounding in a storm – part 1’ which has been sent ahead on scouting detail to herald the imminent arrival of ‘storm tower’ by April Larson. Pylon storm techno is how the tag lines briefly describe it, the ominous advent of pylons appearing on its sleeve being a point not lost on us, for here despite the minimalist sonic detailing, an eerie beauty is at play, forget the impending sense of the calm before the storm stillness a la Roy Montgomery’s ‘true’ that drifts ever sharper into focus throughout, turn your attention rather more to the storm catching charges reverberating from the pylons, unseen to the naked eye extrapolating its very life force and gorging as such while purring its satisfaction by way of low frequency harmonic hums, strangely tranquil. https://arell.bandcamp.com/album/undergrounding-in-a-storm-preview-storm-tower

something strange wafts and weaves this way, a weird and wonky conglomeration of memories committed upon an ad hoc gathered flicker tape, nightmarish abstracts and alterative parallel occurrences jar joyfully momentarily rupturing the reality sphere, to the fizzing of synapse crackles, sensory overloads and binary beep disfigurations, a Videodrome-esque surreal sore thumb narrated by Alan Moore emerges in the frantic guise of ‘Judy switched off the TV’ to furiously plunder and tap into the psyche of William S Burroughs across a noir gouged sonic backdrop whose edgy psychosis steeled anxiety pilots a shadow lined rain drenched outsider-ville grained in Chandler-esque monochrome and Dick Spanner goofiness. Prepare yourself for the imminent advance of a debuting oddball from the Dandelion Set. http://buriedtreasure.bandcamp.com/album/a-thousand-strands-1975-2015

now I’m fairly certain that in a recent life we’ve previously fallen over Kehrschleife and judging by the frantic activity of release appearances on their band camp site, we fear they may have been sneaking out found albums each and every time our back was turned, in which case we have our work cut out in updating our listening experience. Suspected extra curricula work of Midwich Youth Club, ‘Kehrschleife Sieben’ is the latest archive find and finds our analogue tweaking kosmiche kid immersed deep in the sounds of the early 80’s. deep psych trance is the order of the day for ‘die replikatoren’ a hulking mind frying dream machine, all silvered shimmer tones and mesmeric hypno groove atop motoric pulsars that imagine Sonic Boom at the mixing desk of one of those humungous personality dissolving devices from the iconic ‘Invaders’ TV series from the 60’s. After all the brain scrambling groove of the previous listening soiree what you really need is some acutely kooky electro funkiness which is just as well because the devilishly flighty ‘die satellite von morgan’ serves it up in bundles, tripping on the playful side of Art of Noise though here sporting a Tom Tom Club fringe cut, this dinky little floor troubling toe tapper tunes its headspace into the rarefied worlds of Agents Aren’t Aeroplanes. Rounding off for now,‘entgleitet’ suavely ruminates in ‘Dance’ era Numan terrains eking out some slinky and sophisticated Mick Karn-esque bass codas. There will be more, that I promise. http://kehrschleife.bandcamp.com/album/kehrschleife-sieben

must admit we do find ourselves quite smitten by the disconsolate detuned drag pervading throughout this, I only wish we could share it with you but alas there’s an embargo on it with us being much privileged and honoured to be given first listens outside of the protective ring of the band. An album mixed, ready to go and currently label shopping, the bordellos’ ‘how to lose friends’ – projected street date arrival later in the year – looks like being another corker especially if ‘Gary Glitter’ is anything to judge by. A tune that tasks itself with the dilemma of what do you do if you’re a Gary Glitter fan, a tough ask indeed, by way of such fandom would it by definition mean that you condoned or at least implied some form of consent / agreement to the crimes perpetuated, it may seem like an outlandish and preposterous reasoning, yet a reasoning that many would seek to judge you by. Mine however, is not to judge, but to listen and so back to the track in hand. Not adverse to meeting touchy subjects head on – see ‘did the bastards at the BBC kill John Peel’ – ‘Gary Glitter’ courts a non to pleasant aftertaste, there’s a sinister darkness glowering and peeping from its grooves as the stoner fuzz psych growls disfigure to reveal a grizzled glam gouging whose shiny pop innocence is rendered corrupt, tarnished and somewhat macabre all wired upon a choking psychosis pairing lacklustre harmonies with disquieting piano key chills. 

We were of a mind to dig out our prized stash of releases for Shoeshine from a couple of years ago by Michael Shelley, the reason being that both he and ex Weirdo’s man Dan Ankers here trading as Reverend Boom Boom, appear to have an adept ability at shining the torch on the not so perfect moments of life from across the  wrong side of the tracks and making them sound, well, palatable and agreeable, of course there’s a touch of the Pogues haunting ‘the fuckups’ romance’ as there is something of the Hefner’s but you won’t find us complaining too much in a hurry. The track incidentally features on a new outing from the Small Bear imprint entitled ‘Artefact001’ – a live document featuring three bands and four tracks recorded at a recent appearance at the Amber in Douglas last month. Postcode featured here serve up two cuts that we swear we’d need a stick to split them in terms of the affection poured upon them here with the bitter sweet souring of ‘simple things’ ruminating and ricocheting around our head space like some Wedding Present orphan retooled by the Sundays while old favourite ‘mclusky youth’ finds itself remodelled and reappraised to sound like some lost in the final cut forgotten schizoid nugget from Sonic Youth’s ‘dirty’ replete with surreal and lysergic Barrett-esque rustic weaves and Siouxsie Sioux kaleidoscopic oddness. Bringing up the rear the frankly volcanic and thumping psych-o-rama of flies in the ointment Phil Reynolds and the Dearly Departed, ‘hypnotized’ is a full on wigged out strobe strutting swoon cloud rippled in frenzied forays that channel deep and far into the Psychic TV hive mind whilst similarly culturing the kind of darkening commentary that graced pre techno shade adorned dudes the Shamen albeit as though here aided and abetted by a fantasy band line up picked from a c.’84 Batcave club gathering. https://artifact001smallbear.bandcamp.com/releases

The mind plays tricks as you get older, hell I struggle to remember what I was doing fifteen minutes ago let alone events happening 15 years back. Hang on what was I going to say, ah yes – Skywave. Now I swear there was a time when we used to get various CD releases wrapped in handwritten notes from these dream popping dudes, okay post it notes then – oh go on – maybe the hand written bit was on the envelope and that was probably written by a mother of one of the band members. Why we mention all this is because, aside being drop dead cool and of course the small though obvious detail that we here failed to pick up on – that being that a place to bury strangers’ oliver ackerman was once a member (we really must start reading the musical press and keeping abreast of these things), the bands legend is being celebrated on a compilation set entitled ‘killerrockandroll’ being put out by Kanine records on record store day. The album is a gathering of lost singles, forgotten cassette appearances and hand selected album tracks of which ‘adore’ featured here is a glaring omission in our opinion…..a kind of dream dazing lunar lovelock between kitchens of distinction, Ride and ultra vivid scene – prepare to bliss out………

Ah ‘Circles and Holes’, the latest from London based sound alchemist Jodie Lowther, this I don’t mind admitting has been hogging the affection stakes these last few days. A ghostly parade of fractured musical carousels spiriting their way through the twilight. Perched between the eerie and the ethereal, here playful apparitions (the gloopy school yard nursery rhyme ‘the wintertime quadrant’) dissolve into sepia gloamings to re-emerge as bowed ghost lights (see ‘el-ahrairah’ – a kind of distant Fever Ray visitation buried in some enchanted fog) and strange shadowy manifestations, for what first appears as fractured radiophonic echoes crookedly surveying Delia Derbyshire landscapes (see the skittish loop frenz of ‘geese copse’ – very much channelling Bearsuit record domains and the haunting disquieting beauty of ‘red skeleton key’) soon assumes a curiously lulling choral conversation with both ‘scanner cult’ and ‘Athena dead flies’ proving quite lilting whilst similarly effecting a mesmeric and celestial persona to the proceedings. Elsewhere the svelte like whisper toned enchantment of ‘lamia’ realises itself as a siren-esque beckoning from beyond the veil whilst the dream dazed mysterio that is ‘bloofer lady’ swans in on a hymnal folk visioning that might have for all the world been ice carved and shaped in elegiac classicism by any number of Icelandic players. And while the effect of ‘circles and holes’ might be at its worst dislocated and piecemeal, making it difficult to get an anchor or fixing on, the point that’s missed is that, that might well be its redeeming charm for it doesn’t out stay its welcome, most of these cuts seemingly appearing as oddball idents are drawn from a bewildering well of reference points – examples being ‘terrapins’ that veers close into Takako Minekawa territories and ‘fruit flies circle’ which for those of you attuned to the strange delights of petunia-liebling macpumpkin may find familiar surreal paths being plodded.  http://jodielowther.bandcamp.com/album/circles-holes

Irresistible loveliness from Astronauts, this twinkling murmur tone culled from a forthcoming set due May time entitled ‘end codes’ goes by the name ‘you can turn it off’ which quite frankly poses the question why would you want to, for this shy eyed creature comes pressed upon a maddeningly cute xylophonic coda which tingles, turns and toots impishly to the kooky chirpiness of the Cure’s ‘close to me’ while snoozing delectably to a sweetly drifting west coast countrified waft that’s dimpled in the kind of campfire hymnal hush that used to attract these ears to the youthful releases of the Earlies. Add into the mix a breezy lolloping canter and you have something that sounds not unlike a wide eyed and softly effervescent Beatglider. And did we mention the Earlies little more than a second ago, thought so because there’s again more of their mercurial ice trimmed cosy toeing over on the flip with the same cut finding itself seductively serenaded in sleepy headed motifs by the frost tipped fond wonder of electro duo Grasscut who slow matters to a murmuring pulse and sweetly endow the proceedings with an adoring lullaby lilt that tip toes twinklingly to a fragile unworldly shimmer toning.



with some regret it’s been a fair few years since we had cause to feature Tulipomania. My, my – how they’ve matured in the absence. A new album circulating in pop world entitled ‘this gilded age’ which thus far is proving something of an errant chap who in both its CD and vinyl personas has so far managed to secrete and lose itself in transit. Still the wait only increases the expectation and the necessity to hear for this set comes sporting artwork by the legendary Vaughan Oliver and if ‘blinks first’ is anything to judge by, finds them comfortable in their skin and finding their own voice. Etched in shadows, the restless ‘blinks first’ comes crafted in a prime period 4AD classicism, fragmented and seeped in a skin prickling psychosis it seesaws and slithers precariously into the darkening folds of the Cure’s ‘disintegration’ albeit here as though rewoven and channelled down unseen pathways to where lurk the Legendary Pink Dots whereupon the chamber noir mosaics scratch and fester to an edgy sonic landscape petrified and squalling their splintered junk funk into a freakish aural carnival led from the fore by a joint enterprise comprised of ex birthday party-ers Messrs Harvey and Howard.


<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/129776135″>Tulipomania: Blinks First</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/tulipomania”>tulipomania</a&gt; on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p> 

just what the good psychedelic doctor prescribed, ten minutes of mind drifting wooziness from those lysergic head trippers Kikagaku Moyo who’ve an album out soon via guru guru brain records entitled ‘house in the tall grasses’ from which off whose grooves this most rarefied bliss toned head expander has been sent forth as a hallucinogenic herald. Mellowed and murmuring ‘silver owl’ is a softly alluring sitar soaked melodic magic mushroom, dinked dreamily in the soft shuffling lilt of lazy eyed pastoral reclines and flowery acid psych dreaminess which for the best part it gently lulls to a Ghost like echo, a vision dissolved in sunny dissipates and 60’s west coast haloes until that is it reaches the seven minute mark, wherein everything goes a little stoner fuzz and fractured to shape up like a hippy love in gathering together members of Blue Cheer, Acid Mothers Temple and Green Milk from the Planet Orange. far out stuff.  https://soundcloud.com/gurugurubrain/kikagaku-moyo-silver-owl-1/

anyone any idea what this lot are up to today – any information would be most appreciated – I do remember Dead K often communicated via email but since Losing Today went down we can’t access our old email account – anyway briefly recalled courtesy of the previously mentioned Kikagaku Moyo cut, is it time for a re-appraisal of these dudes – one time regular visitors to these pages – this is the pretty awesome Green Milk from the Planet Orange who if truth be known kinda landed just at the wrong time several years ahead of the great progressive rock is cool era….i might be wrong but I’m certainly we’ve still got multiple copies of their rare as hen’s teeth demo debut……

soured in personalised reflection and haunted by past memories, there’s a poetic bleakness about Kete Bowers’ ‘north side of the river’ that’s painted in northern grit, it’s a place where the spectres of fallen industrial communities and local heroes disturb the waking hours paused in contemplative thought. Each of us are haunted similarly, travelling through life gathering along the way our own personal collection of spectres, yet where many strain and buckle to the drag of despair, Bowers tailors his bruising acoustic craft to serve a bitter sweet countrified spiritual that hangs and echo to the intimate tug of Mr Springsteen’s ‘the ghost of Tom Joad’. https://soundcloud.com/ketebowers/north-side-of-the-river?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=facebook


stumbled across this shivering gem stone on the sound cloud page, this is Life as Art 1927 and ‘black day’ – a most beguiling thing scratched in a harrowing sepia soured claustrophobia so acutely drawn it feels for the best part as though the walls are closing in. Amid the smothering cortege, deathly cold riff opines snake and spin their clinging web, through the macabre gloaming momentary escape routes rupture and crack inviting brief bursts of white hot brilliance to shine through only to be consumed by the shadows. reference wise best filed under dark dream pop though further prods and adoring investigation reveal some strangely allured alliance of bang bang machine and Portishead types. https://soundcloud.com/life-as-art-1927

those of you long time visitors to these pages in all their various forms might well recall us mentioning many, many moons ago a band called Giant Paw who aside having a strangely peculiar psychedelic bent instantly had us recalling both the Freed Unit and the Murmurs of Irma. the latter we were so fond of at one time in the 90’s that their two singles of the day have left their indelible mark and are often held up as benchmarks for others to be compared. now last time we mentioned them – for those not quite keeping up with such matters – they are currently featured on a spiffing free to download compilation cobbled up by the Active Listener entitled ‘the great British psychedelic trip – revisited’ – there was a fair amount of kerfuffle and interest leading to some toing and fro-ing of correspondence with two former members resulting in the Sunday Experience being a tad humbled at being sent over pretty much everything the band had recorded including demos, lost cuts and working studies for a possible second album to follow up their solitary overlooked classic ‘Cloudwatch’ (a copy of which – up to this day we had never seen let alone heard and which Andy from the band kindly sent over – his own copy to boot). we will seek permissions to see if we can host the whole set at some point and incorporate it into a feature of some form or other in the near future. For now we’ve been a tad taken by a track called ‘English Tea Ceremony’ which has all the charm and eccentric whimsy that being English stands for whilst very much cured in an olde vintage peculiar that hints of everything from Stanshall and Barrett right through to Alan Bennett all replete with teaspoon stirring chiming china cups atop a woozy pastoral signature that sounds like it’s been hoodwinked from the sonic colouring book of Andy Partridge and Co.  

no sooner do we dispatch reviews of fondness for their debuting live EP ‘Artifact0001’ then Small Bear go and have us all a-swoon with the release of another certified nugget in the shape of a five track set from the excellently named Reptilians from Andromeda. ‘Sonic Rabbit Hole’ be its name, in short a post punk-ing sore thumb that in truth sounds as though it’s been lifted from a forgotten Peel playlist schedule from 1981 with which there’s no disputing that amid their ranks there lurks the occasional Siouxsie admirer which manifests superbly on the opening cut ‘psychic girl’ which itself comes butter cupped in a spiky psychedelic edginess and a curiously shadowy 60’s lysergic lilt that imagines a secret studio summit meeting between the Banshees and Pink Military / Industry. mind you older observers among you might smile and blush to the sound of …and the Native Hipsters crackling amid both ‘jungle’ and the fraught and frazzled no waving industrial gouged ‘we are who we are’. All said as far as affections go we here are pretty much of a split opinion between the parting brace of cuts found bringing up the rear of this quite excellent set notwithstanding the fact that the deliciously kooky and trippy ‘wicky wacky witches’ could in a certain light pass for a totally wasted and out of it darkly minded Strawberry Switchblade mirthfully cutting shapes to fraying and frying early career Pixies motifs while ‘like to the river to the sea’ comes graced in the kind of primordial swamp dragged blank generation grooving that might well have some of you reaching for your copy of girl duo Kull’s sadly solitary cassette outing from a  year or three ago. https://reptiliansfromandromedasmallbear.bandcamp.com/releases

okay admittedly it’s not a new track, in truth we aren’t altogether sure whether this lot are still around – answers and information on a postcard are most welcome, not that we collect stamps or anything, but you can’t be a nicely designed postcard. Ahem. okay we eyed this on a Billboard posting – that’ll be the respected music platform and not someone walking around aimlessly with a big board with huge big words on it saying ‘golf shop here’ and a big pointy arrow thing. Anyhow Billboard posting of ’20 all-female bands you need to know about’ – what no Deux Furieses – not that helpful and up to the mark then eh…… anyhow by way of the briefest of glances we noted with some caution and interest Trippple Nippples whose ‘LSD’ might split the camps between those who find it the most annoying thing on the planet – who said the Cuban Boys – and those who consider it the most addictive thing since spots – anyway it is truly demented, deranged and lovably daft – which to put into the perspective of references and sound-a-likes might be best left as saying it sounds like a speed freaked Toni Basil fronting lost Japanese pop peculiars the frank chickens with impromptu interruptions provided for by pop off Tuesday.


we’ve had word from Tom of Tulipomania that spare copies of their acclaimed album ‘this gilded age’ are currently hot footing their way across the pond, not that we needed excuses or anything, but it affords us a chance to feature another of their videos, not altogether sure whether this actually features on the aforementioned set but regardless, all the same a dandy nugget which we had cause to mention with much fondness a little while back. This is ‘hold on’ and finds itself touching upon a familiar Tulipomania sound ground that’s shrouded deliciously in a mooching noir funk gouging, ‘hold on’ is kissed in the kind of darkly suave sophistication that graced the Vinticious version of De Staat’s ‘down town’ albeit moulded and spirited by a cinematic edginess that distantly hints to Tom Waits while smoked in the subtle essences of a brooding bringing together of Gene Loves Jezebel and AR Kane types.  


latest from the ever excellent gerpfast kolektif imprint, sadly we’ve only two tracks to go on via the bandcamp preview – wish the blighters would send over downloads to these things. grumbles aside this little lovely is set to appear in Indonesian localities on Record Store Day, the EP entitled ‘distancia’ is by Hellens – an Indonesian six piece who quite frankly do the most adorable and angelic sounding dream pop we’ve had the pleasure of hearing this side of a Lillies on Mars visitation. no doubt well versed in all things My Bloody Valentine, Hellens’ sweetly shy eyed murmur tones comes draped in the ear candy dream drift toning of effervescent sonic sunbursts which on the vapour trailing beauty ‘fadeaway’ yearn and turn teasingly to the stately siren-esque grace fall of a lovelorn Slowdive. not to be outdone ‘losing distance’ here in its ‘old version’ variant is elegantly traced in the intimate bruising purr of a tear stained and vulnerable Melys at their most wounded and finest whilst wrapped in the touching cuddle of Cocteau-ian corteges. blissfully beautiful.


Many thanks to Mega Dodo head honcho John for sending over promo copies of the forthcoming singles club release by Octopus Syng – received safely and woozily wafting its strange eccentric psychedelic essences around our listening space as we write. fond words taken from an earlier mention here are linked below, however for now here a moving picture feature of the lead out track ‘reverberating garden number 7’ very much channelling the olde English peculiar of the Floyd, the Freed Unit and the Murmurs of Irma…..


ah, Arrows of Love, my how they’ve grown, been a while since we featured them here, they will always find a small corner in our affections not least because in a former persona, Nima of the band once starred in Hush the Many, an ensemble now sadly lost to memory who impeccable fragile nature uncovered several sonic gems not least ‘song of a page’ which if memory recalls was committed to vinyl by club Fandango back in the day and sadly never quite captured the enchantment and mystique of its live rendition. several years on, and as with most things, stuff changes, Arrows of Love offer up a more spiked proposition, awkward, angular and amped in venom, a fact that comes hurtling in the shape of a new single ‘toad’. culled from a forthcoming set ‘product’, ‘toad’ scrapes, snarls and snakes to an acutely irregular math hard core rasp that swerves it’s animated agitant gouge to a blister kissed searing sonic boom that channels the finest from the Brew sound house whilst forging alliances with the likes of Shellac and Fugazi. via handspun soon.   https://soundcloud.com/arrows-of-love/toad

we’ve been meaning to mention Wil Bolton for a while now, it’s been such an age since we last had cause to feature him, call it laziness or pressing concerns to do with time constraints, whatever the case or reason we do feel we’ve somewhat dropped the ball in recent years. So no excuse when this album preview appeared on our listings, a collaborative venture with Jeff Stonehouse as Le Moors. Appearing very shortly on the Oklahoma based unknown tone imprint, ‘tendrils’ is a masterclass in stilled elegance, its where poise, mood and atmosphere are all microscopically viewed in close proximity, for these finitely fragile ice carvings are deliberated in the kind of isolationist beauty that mere ambient descriptors appear to serve an injustice for here there’s almost a touching hymnal tranquillity that demurs with silently sombre reverential grace to which admirers of the Montgomery / Heaphy joint venture ‘true’ will find much to adore.  https://soundcloud.com/unknowntonerecords/le-moors-tendrils-album-preview

by our reckoning, this sounds like a must have release. stupidly limited, a blue vinyl album housed in a gatefold sleeve with artwork by renowned tattooist Liam Sparkes with – and wait for it – a hand stitched unabridged copy of Jules Verne’s classic’20,000 leagues under the sea’ tome tucked inside for your own personal reading at leisure enjoyment. Now there might be among you some thinking and musing, okay what has that Keith bloke at Fruits de Mer gone and done now. but you’d be wrong. blame Jonny Trunk for he, the musical patron saint of the strange, the lounge, the library and the forgotten, has crafted an underwater suite ghosted in the mysteries of the deep and wondered in the oceanic spirit world which judging by the fatal stillness and groaning descent of the magically macabre ‘sinking’ might well make this a release worthy of being hailed a modern day classic. the release arrives via four corners books.   

just out on fuzz club to whom we are currently fashioning begging letters for promos from. so while we labour in cobbling up our wants missive here’s the quite superb Tales of Murder and Dust with the titanic ‘sisters’.  this bad boy comes culled from a full length set entitled ‘the flow in between’ – a brooding colossus gravelled in humungous monolithic sound structures that bear down with the kind of dust ravaged magisterial grim aloof that howls solemnly as though a returning crusade from some apocalyptic happening or some ne’er do welling deathly exchange at the fabled crossroads, whatever the case it’s a darkening sonic ceremony of all consuming seismic psych. https://soundcloud.com/fuzz-club/tales-murder-of-dust-sisters

a case of part foolishly and part taking our eyes of the ball meant that the cheer in the Sunday Experience record shed was somewhat muted upon discovering that a new 12-inch white wax platter from the ridiculously cool Polytechnic Youth sound house came, went and gone before we scarcely had time to say ‘yep stick me down for one of those’. The mysterious weird ear that is the Assistant – or Oliver Cherer as he’s known to kith n’ kin – should need no introduction around these here parts given we adored in words of fondness his gorgeously playful test card twiddling Kraftwerk-ian by way of Plone lunar lulling ‘ways of seeing’ a little while back. Returning swiftly to the fray following previous acclaim, one for the cooler club floors, the intricately layered ‘gristleizer’ opts for a more ominous footing that employs in its initial moments a dystopian Detroit technoid effect comprised of swarms of critical meltdown siren calls that appear to be piloting into the very heart of the cinematic future worlds of ‘blade runner’, its locked groove hypnosis turned upon a minimalist techno grooving that instantly recalls early catalogue outings for the much missed Boltfish imprint in a label face off with Rednetic recordings. Both playful and chilling, ‘nothing on’ is in truth our favoured cut and finds itself navigating the dark corridors of the Biosphere hive mind its technoid glue dissolving and dissipating into fracture lines of mind expanding flotillas which by its close assume a strangely becoming cosmic progginess that to these ears sounds not unlike a clearly loved up Front 242 being hippy tripped by an impishly blissed out gathering of Ozric Tentacles and Magic Mushroom Band types. https://soundcloud.com/the-assistant-2/sets/py25-gristleizer

bugger me, this is one serious work out. I know that we often mention beards and their growth therein when the chance happens upon us to mention Sendelica’s more out-there stoner grooviness, but here’s cut so long in length that you seriously could acquire some face furniture whilst listening to. In fact, if truth be known, we have actually fashioned a rather dandy looking goat patch whilst sporting and cutting posing shapes with a pipe for maximum effect, though where the pipe magically appeared in proceedings is a concern we’ll no doubt ponder over whilst tooting upon it. Anyhow enough scene setting rambling, this is Grand Astoria, (who if memory serve right last appeared in these pages courtesy of a damn fine inclusion on a long since sold out Fruits de Mer happening) and a live mix of ‘nine lives of Dersu Uzala’ – this bad boy trips, glides and wig flips its way through a head shrooming genre bending mosaic which within its 22-minute visitation one might feel as though they have disconnected from reality to surf upon the astral planes such is its hazily glazed tone, that said before you get there you do have to navigate your way through a seismic trip-a-rama that incorporates everything from prog, psych and stoner blues right through to brief flashes of Afrobeat, it truly is a mind altering odyssey of sound that wigs out to a vintage beatnik craft where Sabbathian lunges and Mountain-esque grooves blend and bend in the head frying brew. One, I suspect, for the Rise Above aficionados among you. https://thegrandastoria.bandcamp.com/track/nine-lives-of-dersu-uzala-ver-2

there was a time in mid to late 90’s when it seemed like Montreal was the centre of the musical universe, beneath the safe haven of Constellation records the likes of godspeed and fly pam am where left to nurture their post rock atmospherique. Some two decades down the line, yes two decades, time really does fly, its seems as though Veleri Fabrikant and CNC have keenly been influenced, influenced enough in fact to embrace that same spirit by tailoring their collaborative epic in the shadows ‘say goodbye to the world as we know it’ in the same kind of quietly majestic intricacy. At nearly 14 minutes in length ‘sun worshippers / gold diggers’ provides for a masterclass in both refrain / sustain and poise / pause, like the Grails magnified at quarter speed, there’s a dark beauty evolving and dissolving here amid a panoramic canvas populated by the sparse drone detailing and squirrelling scrapes that suggests an affinity with Kranky acts LaBradford and Stars of the Lid while likewise serving upon something carved with such stilled grandeur one suspects closer inspection might well be rewarded several fold.  http://gbsrecord.bandcamp.com/album/say-goodbye-to-the-world-as-we-know-it

very brief mention for this one while we go in search of a copy of our own with which to cherish and adore. We’ve mentioned Francois de Roubaix on several occasions previously but here’s a little curio from 1976 getting the revamp reappraisal it deserves courtesy of transmission records. ‘Commissiare Moulin et autres scenes de crimes’ is a gathering of TV / films scores and previously unreleased cuts by the celebrated composer Francois de Roubaix. Coolly chic and dimpled in a sense of mystery, the theme for ‘commissaire moulin’ is inched in suspense and noir trimmed futurism whose electronic dinking chiefly recalls John Baker of the Radiophonic Workshop whilst simultaneously garnering nods to the likes of Mancini, Budd and Barry. 


No sooner despatching the frankly uber cool ‘iron eyes cody’, Rob Clarke and the Wooltones swiftly return with the drop dead darkly demurred soft psych shimmering of ‘mind the gap, Henry Beck’. A mind dissolving mosaic that finds them sharing a sonic kinship with the equally adored Hanging Stars whilst culturing and venturing the more surreally head tripped shadow lands of late 60’s garage psych whereupon lie secret places where the sun showered optimistic hazes of the West Coast are gloomed, twisted and over cast in a morphing kaleidoscopic macabre which along its overgrown footings nods to the Autumn Leaves appear and disappear replaced by a doppel-ganging Monkees channelling the spirit of HP Lovecraft. Over on the flip the now trademark instrumental retuning of the lead out cut here reshaped anew as the ‘eastern region’ is deliriously dinked with a fringe flopping trance toned Arabesque accent the snake charms and spirits its way seductively to a stoned out Will Sergeant-esque vibe.   https://robclarkeandthewooltones.bandcamp.com/album/mind-the-gap-henry-beck-single 

More curiosities tripped across on our latest wander through the back waters of band camp, this one intriguingly describes itself as ‘psych wonky world music from Slovenia’ – a summing up which I’m happy to say it doesn’t disappoint in providing. This is from the rx:tx imprint and a newly hatched set by the Jimmy Barka Experience entitled ‘stolen boat’ – a surreal sonic spy glass and a clever genre bending collage of sound which alas thus far only one track – the title cut – has been made available for preview. Still there’s more than enough here to whet the appetite for this strangely becoming head trip manages to shoehorn everything from psych, prog, middle eastern trance tones, chill wave and plain old kooky trippiness into a colourful shape shifting tapestry which by these ears sounds a lot like some becoming adventure to the psychedelic jungle lands of monsterism island in the company of Lemon Jelly, the Winston Giles Orchestra and the crew over at Wonderful Sounds. http://rxtx.bandcamp.com/album/stolen-boats

With an opening greeting that drenches your listening space in the warmth hued swathing embrace of euphoric glissandos to its ice sculptured minutiae murmurs, the aptly titled ‘seratonin’ attracts something of the divine, the ethereal and the hushed elegance of some heaven sent visitation, courting a porcelain majesty that’s seduced in symphonic grace, this bruised and beautiful celestial love note ghosts ever so briefly to a whisper formed down tempo arrest that navigates its way through the kind of unworldly airless vapour kissed sonic states only hinted by the likes of No Ceremony and alt-j. this blissful creature is by mira, un lobo, ‘seratonin’ comes prized from a forthcoming set ‘heart beats slow’ for tapete records. 

<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/92721609″>Mira, un Lobo! – Serotonin</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/clps”>Chris Lee &amp; Paul Storrie</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

Buried beneath the requests and various sound finds, this is the long overdue and previously promised flip to the imminent lathe 5 inch ‘gas and air’ from TVAM via Static Caravan. ‘Cannibals’ originally done by celebrated stateside punk futurists the Units way back in the late 70’s was possessed of a Wire like Foxx headed Ultravox fusion in its early incarnation is here summoned of a similar proto punk spikiness by TVAM who takes his cues from the prevailing sonic want for all things blistered in a 70’s cold war austere and from out of the toxic waste of an abandoned dumping ground  zeroes in kamikaze style with pulse racing dystopian chill into a retro glazed Atari age. Essential – but then you gathered that.

In case you blinked and missed it – here’s the lead out ‘gas and air’ – https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/03/09/tvam-7/

And because we are in buoyant mood here the original by Units……

Another listening treat with which to get your lobes around, this a superb mix cloud gathering of new soundtrack releases heading out of the Death Waltz academy of sound, some nuggets here among the roll call Alan Howarth, Fabio Frizzi and Howard Shore will no doubt turn the heads of seasoned horrorphonic fans a tad chillier, however for us it’s the appearance of Nathan van Cleave’s sound scape for the cult sci-fi flick from ’64 ‘Robinson Crusoe on Mars’ that’ll be sitting at the top of our wants list and have us shuffling down to our local record emporium post haste. https://soundcloud.com/mondotees/mondomarch-25-03-2016-1126/s-25Jse?mc_cid=320f0f6e5f&mc_eid=056795003a

Mentioned this a little while back whereupon we did drop discreet hints in respect of bagging one of those ultra-limited 50 only ‘Frequency’ CD’s but our pleas somewhat got a tad lost. Still ‘galacticon’ proved to be the secret weapon in the ummagma sonic arsenal, a beautiful drifting gem offering a moment of quiet reflection, its oceanic opines though sparsely filtered, assumed of a cinematic stateliness that recalls the more contemplative moments found on the flip of Mr Bowie’s ‘low’.



we do quite love this one, alas though we can’t quite recall from whence we stumbled over it, one of those face book update postings I’m gathering. Anyhow it’s by Zach Zinn – again a name I’m not so certain was the one he was christened with, but then that’s not the point, it’s the music that’s of concern. Herewith two newly forged murmuring treats entitled ‘lunar pill’ and solar pill’ the former of which a shyly formed frost tipped yearn traced in minimalist electronics all sweetly hazed in thawing wheezes and aglow in the kind of spectral trimming that once upon a time used to engage the grooves of releases by a youthful Minotaur Shock. As to ‘solar pill’ a looser and affectionately more detuned crafting comes to play, a kind of toy box academy awoken while everyone else sleeps yawning their way a crooked orbital serenade which in truth sounds not unlike something that might have one time or another back dropped one of those creepily surreal Eastern bloc cartoons that used to spook and mesmerise children’s TV in the early 70’s although on this occasion retuned by former Bad Jazz records alumni.  https://soundcloud.com/zach-zinn/lunar-pillsolar-pill

I swear we’ve tripped across this on a related resonance fm podcast / mixcloud mention, this is the quite wonderfully magic land macabre of Klaus Mortlock’s ‘the chamber of lost dreams’ from a newly peeled set entitled ‘penumbra’. Another of those fabled finds from an alternative time line I’m afraid and something which pretty much ploughs directly into the weird worlds of those Villa9 folk most notably sonic dark priest Simon Magus. The dream like ‘the chamber of lost dreams’ comes caught in a half way place between reality and what lies behind and beyond, a twilight realm where its beautified peppering of pastoral posies sparkle, sway and colour breezily only to dissipate, disfigure and drift away into the ethereal chill and charm of wispy ghost lights from where deep in the fog bound mists the unclaimed lurk murmuring their twisted incantations. https://klausmorlock.bandcamp.com/track/the-chamber-of-lost-dreams

‘dark star’ – john carpenter’s first directorial debut was as legend has it, so dogged by budgeting restraints that both he and his collaborative partner in crime Dan O’Bannon where forced to multi task with the latter left doing the special effects and putting himself in front of the camera while the former was left to write, produce and provide the musical score. Assuming cult status, ‘dark star’ is something of a sore thumb curio in the Carpenter canon, A Dan Dare-ish meets the Stooges in space suits ‘red dwarf’ before ‘red dwarf’ slab of sci-fi goofiness emerging from the shadow of Kubrick’s ‘2001 – a space odyssey’ where the failing dumbness of crew are sharply out witted – or should that be dim-witted – by a marvellously recalcitrant and schizoid on board computer system. The score composed by Carpenter neatly harks back to classic 50’s sci-fi radio play idents, all gloopy binary bleeps n’ blips and outer worldly whirrs hinting strongly of the ‘forbidden planet’ whilst segued between lounge jazz treatments and brooding 80’s cinematic style drone psychosis. This set, described by the label – who are incidentally called we release whatever the fuck we want records – now I’m gonna have to get on their mailing list – is the most comprehensive vinyl edition of the film score – comes plastered on 12 inches of wax – initial copies comes packaged with a neat 7 inch featuring selected reworking’s by Alan Howarth. One, I suspect, for the completist and the intrigued.

Somewhere along the line over the course of the last few months we’ve managed to lose touch with the celebrated and finest Scotland based tape / wax label Soft Power records. Happy to say that the lapse in communications has been resolved with news of a spiffing cassette outing for Kasper Hauser, their debut release as it happens, a blistering dark mass of edgy sinew sapping malcontent that freefalls directly into the black voids of what was considered and known as early 80’s positive punk. Teaser track ‘pencil doings’ rumbles and squirms amid a desolately shadow lined landscape fraught in decay and darkness, the sharp as nails clawing riff lunges cast out bleak siren calls shrouded in the ghosts of lost sonic foot soldiers such as And Also the Trees, Artery and Zerra 1, the sounds ooze grimly with pathological glee to a youthful Situation 2 catalogue soured and spiked in Southern Death Cult charms. Somewhere else ‘tannoy’ stirs ominously to a macabre spell weaving vibe that whilst adept at playing to melodic murder in the dark party games with lost Bauhaus riffs is devilishly graced by a dread dead heading doom draping that sits glowering in the shadows perched between a particularly potent UK Decay and the spectral atmospheric gauzing of a ‘Seduction’ era Danse Society’.



I think it might be one of those rare occasions when the word sublime might be appropriate. Always blessed with a keen ear and a knack for spotting talent light years before it threatens to hit the hill, Bad Afro’s 20th year in sonic service promises to be their finest yet with a planned roster of celebratory releases kicking off with a full length from Telstar Sound Drone – more about which will appear here sometime at the weekend – some Baby Woodrose grooviness and this killer thing from the Bekllhound Choir. ‘bad dreams’ just smokes uber cool as it slinkily coils and purrs to a classic blues cratfing that wires into its laid back vibing the ghosts of Muddy Waters and Howling Wolf over which a particularly reflective ‘nebraska’ era Springsteen like echo casts its solitary voice.


Now had it been the case that we had forgone our usual RSD doorman duties at Probe records earlier yesterday whereupon the three best things we heard all day from the amassed crowds – in order of merit – were….

  1. Some wit rolling up to the front door to asking ‘is there a queue here’ unaware of the looks could kill honing in on his very person from the line stretching behind him to the Bluecoat
  2. Another hapless soul pulling up and after witnessing the lines and the crowd in the shop observing and enquiring therein – ‘do they buy records here mate’ – to which the response was ‘not the best day to ask mate’ to which he looked around at the queue and the crowd inside for a second time and asked ‘why’
  3. Do you have the Bieber record – nobody laughed, nobody said a word as the lines of tumble weed paraded through the shop and time stood perilously still for what seemed like an age.

And dare we forget to mention the chap who huffed and puffed in queue and once in proceeded to knock everyone over in an attempt to grab the Doctor Who albums and once safely secured grinned geek-ily at his embarrassed friends waving them in the air before proceeding to pretty much descend on the 7 inch wall rack like a locust removing most sleeves from the singles gallery. Such a gent.  

Anyway back to the point of this – had we not been there to witness all that and instead here listening to toons, we might have gotten to this a lot faster and somewhat earlier. Not wishing to rain on parades, St Helens own sore thumbs and overcasting sonic storm cloud the Bordellos have made available a free to download EP to celebrate the vinyl festivities. Entitled ‘grin – new free music day’, the EP gathers together 7 cuts cooled in typical dour observationalism which I must admit we here are more than a tad fond of given we prefer the Bordellos when they’re in a mellowed and slightly distracted and wayward mood.  As ever never ones to miss the chance of a dig the liner notes describe said release as ‘free new music to listen to as you queue to pay over the odds for reissues of old releases at a shop you ignore the other 364 years of the year’. Well said that man for between the groaning grumbles of those who dismiss RSD as a gimmick, they so often miss the vital point that it’s not the records that are the event here but the actual patronage of these iconic beasts known as record shops, and yes they are open all year not just RSD and of course other records are available. Amid the digital grooves on this lobe pinching ear burning head turner you’ll be greeted to minimalist post everything techno courtesy of the dismissive greeting of the title track, which aside channelling pre c-81 electronic cold war edginess – think the Normal drizzled in the Fall-esque gauze of Decoration, something we suspect that might well catch the passing ear of those polytechnic youth-ers among you. Next up an impishly crooked homage of sorts to the mighty ‘slits’ is cast in the distant air of Half Man Half Biscuit while the criminally brief mellow bruising of ‘hurting kind’ – the best thing here it should be said – is spirited away in a spectral 60’s shimmer toning that suggests a nod or two to a certain Mr Orbison in collusion with Mr Meek. Now what I love about the bordellos most of all is the fact that had I not known better I’d be suspecting they’d been rifling through our record collection in so much as they have a devious tendency of momentarily calling to mind vague strains of previous fallen heroes, ‘the abba lovers’ encapsulates this perfectly – a lazy eyed lo-fi frail babe teased and trimmed in the kind of wistful distraction that once upon a time engaged the grooves of platters by the Freed Unit – albeit in their ‘gigglegoo’ phase and the much missed Jumbo. Somewhere else ‘plasticine man’ grooves along to a sparse and gruff detailing that hints of a youthful Fall wiring leaving ‘grin’ to round off the set though not before the arrival of the perfectly derailed ‘mark’s Sunday experience’ – honoured and indeed humbled – a song dedicated to this tiny little blog, we were and are, I’ll admit, overcome blubbing and blushing. God bless you Bordello folk. https://bordellos.bandcamp.com/album/grin-new-free-music-day

Imminent lathe cut visitation from the esteemed and dearly admired Static Caravan finds Art of the Memory Palace wrapping their mercurial melodic tonalities around the awe struck tear stained words of celebrated author James Robertson. Due to land around the end of May in strictly limited form, Art of the Memory Palace emerge quietly from isolation following acclaim bathed upon last year’s debuting ‘this life is but a passing dream’ to serve up a truly beautiful hymnal suite to accompany Robertson’s touching prose about the age old seeking of answers by man to the great eternal question. Both radiant and head bowed whilst all at once grand, measured and steeled in poise, the duo add gravitas and reverence not to mention a colourfully embracing unworldliness to Robertson’s thought provoking poetic quest, to its enchanted and ethereal bow a softly hushed silken panoramic velour reveals itself tracking and tracing the ascending airless contours of the dream drifting journey within all the time arcing in quiet euphoric celebration at the wonder of it all (those familiar with the Pressburger and Powell film ‘a matter of life and death’ starring David Niven will no doubt marvel at the cheeky nods to the eternal staircase and the ticking clock motion moments from this epic cinematic treat). In short a beguiling nine-minute trip beyond the veil.    

Those attending the fruits de mer festivities at their games for may gig will find themselves showered with gifts and goodies aplenty as well being greeted to a live spectacular – a double header with mega dodo records featuring appearances by Sendelica, magic bus, honey pot and soft hearted scientists along with a chance to bag one of these beauties. Pressed up on 8 inches of lathe cut vinyl and strictly limited to just 50 copies, a truly wonderful split gathering of Cary Grace and Consterdine types rephrasing the late Mr Bowie. The release, much like the recent Sendelica ‘ziggy stardust’ 7 inch, where long planned before the sad news of Mr Bowie’s death hit us, the members only CD compilation ‘fashion’ had been on the labels listings as far back as September last year. Guaranteed then to be the obsession of collectors and auction site feeding frenzies alike, this ultra-limited press features three tracks, one apiece culled from the aforementioned ‘fashion’ set and an additional interpretation by Cary Grace who dips into the festivities with two well-heeled re-trims. What makes this duo so attractive is the way they manage to embrace perfectly a succinctly 70’s vintage, the hairy glam swaggering accents of ‘black country rock’ are seductively metered in a cosmically caressed progressive psychedelic colouring that’s etched in a trippy and wiggy top coat while the playful return to ‘sound and vision’ finds itself twinkle toned and trimmed in a starry eyed loose limbed funkiness that to these ears sounds as though it’s been cut whilst on a package trip to some Saturnian seaside hideaway. As to Consterdine’s similarly affectionate tweaking of ‘sound and vision’ – well let’s just say its delightfully tinkered and tailored into a murmuring lunar lullaby comprised of chuckling glitches, chiming xylophonic corteges and snoozing string serenades which to these ears had us of a mind to go rooting out our old early career ISAN stash – quite a darling if you ask me.

Forthcoming sounds of discontent or might that be oblique happiness from the much admired polytechnic youth factory of strange sonic happenings. This time another ultra-limited and, dare we say, disquieting visitation from the mysterious Middex whose latest salvo ‘sirrius’ finds them continuing to excavate the darkening cold war monochrome sonic sub-strata of the Normal with this ice formed bleakly blank generational future telling appearing to channel a decaying and desolate landscape populated by ominous code signals and subliminal messaging services.

Just eyed this on the bandcamp platform, a digital pressing of ‘walberswick’ by Jon Brooks – indeed he of Advisory Circle, Hintermass et al fame – this release first entering the popular consciousness last year courtesy of a limited wax outing via the more than human imprint. Alas only ‘pocket fire’ makes it to the preview stand but a dandy thing all the same that finds Brooks playfully wiring up Moroder-esque modulating pulsars into a head expanding dreamy palette whose vapour trailing kosmiche carousel orbits, swirls, decays and shape shifts to forge patterns that hint of a vintage colouring with echoes of a future returning Tangerine Dream, very trance toned and mellowing to boot. http://cafekaput.bandcamp.com/album/walberswick

Prized from a recently spotted listing – might have been Norman records all said, this curio from the Bronzerat imprint – we used to be on their mailing list y’know – this I suspect was released in limited wax form sometime last year and features a rare reading by the late Leonard Nimoy of Ray Bradbury’s ‘the martian chronicles’ all sublimely set upon a bleakly beautiful ambient score by Zarelli – better known to kith n kin as Carwyn Ellis – whose mistily wistful nostalgic yearn trickling longingly throughout the previewing track ‘falling light’ comes ghosted in a tranquil turning of forlorn pastorals grace falling into softly genuflecting tear stained dream draped shimmer tones to ultimately mirror and frame exquisitely the themes of neglect, loss and memory.

Long since sold out of its limited lathe cut variant, this is the recent highly sought after polytechnic youth two tracker from the much admired listening center. First up from the twinset – and just to be awkward – the flip side ‘housing diorama’ has become something of a smitten treat in the Sunday experience sound shed, a beautifully crafted slice of bucolic beguilement shimmered in la dusseldorf-ian kosmiche shimmers all trimmed and arrested in a vintage 70’s televisual soundtrack collage that nods to a ghost box library of sonic treats as were plundered from forgotten Open University and Tomorrow’s World idents which if you scratch a little deeper endear a sense of the superior second side of Tubeway Army’s ‘replicas’ having been taken out on a spring hued green field rural picnic. That’s not to say that ‘Event Two’ is the weaker link, rather more a gorgeously expressive orbital symphony traced in the silver age sounds of a 70’s space race all fondly piloted upon a pulsar palette that nods deliciously to the analogue tonalities of the warm digits. http://listeningcenter.bandcamp.com/album/then-it-was-now

Debuting the cult of free love album entitled ‘love revolution’ on its way peeled off which comes prized the arresting snake charm salvo that is ‘Jaya Deva’ – a beautifully slinky shape cutting and head tripping odyssey daubed seductively in arabesque flotillas and psychotropic shimmers to sound, it has to be said, like a radiant bliss bathed peace purring astral love note visitation traced upon an enviable family tree that swirls, shape shifts and swoons to the ethereal echoes of Fuxa, sunray and the invaders of the heart.


Just what you need on returning from a day spent bored beyond tedium by 9 to 5 brain numbing hell, a cryptology exercise from Radiohead. Those who pay attention to such matters, might well have noted that things were slowly rumbling into activity in the Radiohead camp. I’ll re-phrase that – inactivity in the Radiohead camp – when all communications and updates went blank rendering their online presence mysteriously silent. Over the ensuing days oblique leaflets were received by some emblazoned with typical crypto messages. Those familiar with such events heed the coded call that imminent happenings are afoot. 16.05 today the silence was broken with communications resumed reporting the issue of a new track ‘burn the witch’ – only it isn’t a new track having been mentioned on the sleeve of ‘hail to the thief’ and occasionally teased during live shows c 2006. Rather than get embroiled in a historical audit trail as to where, why and how its originated – there are other publications online that merry in this – the single released midnight tonight is accompanied by a superbly sinister stop motion video – a kind of messing with your head collage were child hood innocence is gouged in ritual adult themes and the picture box rural quaint is revealed of  its shadowy secrets – Camberwick Green gone Wicker Man, it’s dark and disturbing, a mirroring of the society we have tacitly agreed to, were many are afraid to speak out and stand alone for fear of ridicule or perhaps worse, preferring  instead to hide in the protective fold of the masses and acquiesce, a society that easily trades freedoms yet turns with suspicion upon his fellow man, its chilling context grimly conveyed by the persistent reminder that this is ‘a low flying panic attack’ with the suggestion that all is not what it seems explicitly brought to bear by the eerie sense of everything being in plain sight. All said I could be wrong – usually am. As to the music, a frenzied affair that finds Radiohead in fine fettle cloaking the listener in a choking claustrophobic wrapping, the sound massive and enveloping, shrieking strings swing guillotine like between moments of hackles heightening razor like predatory jabs to rumbling emotion tightening turbulent descents all the time pressing hard on the tension and anxiety amid which buried deep in the mix a straight ahead rock formula freewheels with agitant restless glee for Yorke to swoon and swerve in hymnal swallow dive formations.

Certainly ticking all our boxes, lifted from the recently well received Drag City released ‘denver’ set – which hint hint we are yet to see, hear or for that matter hold, this is the schizoid-a-delic sound of Neil Michael Hagerty and the Howlin Hex with ‘Colfax West’ here accompanied by a suitably screwball video cobbled together by Elisa Ambrogio. Devilishly discarding of that old verse chorus verse nonsense ‘Colifax West’ instead opts to furiously pummel your ears back during the course of its sub two-minute turntable residence fusing a curiously molten palette that spirals between angular art pop, kaleidoscopic trip-a-delics and wayward Elephant 6 Collective styled goonery, annoyingly addictive in an arch Cardiacs way.

Been doing a fair amount of damage on the in house dansette has this ‘un. New thang outta the stolen body imprint by Italo garage psyche heads Go!Zilla, this two track babe comes pressed up on ultra-limited eye catching picture disc grooviness and features ‘pollution’ taken from last years – sadly missed around these here parts – ho hum – ‘sinking in your sea’ set. A teeth bearing straight ahead and at ya twang twisting 60’s throwback gouged deliciously in surf-a-delic strains of grizzled garage grunge and smoked with the kind of dirty dragster drawl that happily occasioned the grooves of platters bearing the name Mono Men branded to their hide, add in essences of the Fuzztones and the Black Halos for impacting cool kudos. However, that said our favoured side is the flip where lurks the newly penned ‘gambling with the crocodile’ – a wig flipping slab of howling bad boogie bleached in searing shimmers of white hot mind mushrooming psych freakiness which on initial listens apes an as were blister kissed variant of the Black Angels before tail diving into the acid fried void courtesy of some nifty Hookworms styled riff rupturing oblivion. https://stolenbodyrecords.co.uk/product/gozilla-pollution-7/

Look, I know there’s been an annoying tendency around these here parts that greets each active listener sampler with a – well – sample review of the magical delights tucked away inside of them with promises to revisit in full only to haplessly err on the side of forgetfulness only which by the time we come to remember, then a new one is upon us, and swooning our listening space. Sorry, but old habits die hard, yet we will endeavour to cover the latest in full very soon – promise – not least because – oh dear we say this all the time – it might be the best crop of ear candy they’ve gathered to date, or at the very least since the last one. Sampler #41 is awash with eye swirling fringe parting loveliness not to mention coming housed in some rather superbly nifty sleeve artwork by Mark McGee. Before we get accused of waffling any further, a quartet of woozy treats with which to tweak your third eye and have it all a misty, first up on the inspection block Frankie and the Witch Fingers’ ‘merry go round’ dreamily dazes around a deliciously trippy corkscrewing crystalline riff chime the likes of which we’ve rarely heard executed better than since the days of Clock Strikes 13 at the height of their psych primed powers albeit here as though returning from a prolonged vacation to the obscurely opulent backwaters of the Elephant 6 Collective acquiring along the way a overt affection for the Chocolate Watchband. Did you really imagine us skipping over Kramies’ ‘the fate that never favoured us’ without a passing nod, foolish child of course not, the jewel in his enviable song craft crown, all at once spiritual, hymnal and teased and framed in a rarefied elegance that sounds as though it’s been dropped from some outer worldly place, this celestial ghost light is tenderly touched in the kind of cosmic airiness that once spirited the grooves of releases by J Xaverre and Sterling Roswell, in truth I wouldn’t be surprised if it was coated in magic dust – spectrally arresting. Those of you fancying something a little ‘Nuggets’ inspired might be advised to see out post haste ‘it will all end in tears anyway’ by Creatures of the Golden Dawn, a collective who clearly have that vintage garage blues cool nailed squarely to the floor with hints of thee Seeds and the Standells clearly oozing through their harmonica laced retro reverb, admirers of latest 60’s twang dudes crawlin hex will adore aplenty. Okay at this point ordinarily we’d be quick to the Kehrschleife cut before you had a chance to say ‘who?’ but a super duper Polytechnic Youth 7 inch by him is working its way through the Royal Mail delivery service as we write – so hang on to your hats and instead we’ll plum for Midwich Youth Club – both are after all musical alter egos of a certain Allan R Murphy – who here serves up ‘I tried to escape but they made such an appealing offer’ – a fried flight into early 70’s electronica fusing and blurring the lines between Saturday Seaside special idents, public information montages, gloopy testcard waltzes and late evening cheesy cop chase TV spots into an omnipresent overture daubed in the shadowy pathways once sonically walked by Syd, which though said hint of the strange sonic occurrences of a certain Wizards Tell Lies – I think these chaps ought to forge communications. And while we said we’d feature only 4 select cuts here’s a quite interesting oddball serving as your bonus, a pairing of talents drawing together So There and the hare and the moon’s Grey Malkin. Taken from a set currently doing limited visitations on the admired Reverb Worship imprint this is the strangely absorbing ‘the hello golems’ – a totally off the wall sound collage which in terms of reference markers I guess you’d have to start at Volcano the Bear’s ‘yak folks y’are’ by way of its impishly schizoid primordial folk ritual mantras here found cross wired into Quatermass styled radiophonics unto which emerge momentary flashes of psychotropic gloamings courtesy of brief Floydian visitations – all very odd, disconnected though we suspect well worth the effort in tracking down.   https://theactivelistener.bandcamp.com/

Alas no sound links for this – well we could but I suspect we’d be run out of town by the assembled masses of Mega Dodo and Octopus Syng types if we posted them. Our day – (and it’s been a dull one toiling in 9 to 4.25 joyless boredom, indeed we skulked off home when no one was looking – I’m suspecting a knuckle wrap awaits our return in the morning) – was much buoyed by the receipt of downloads for the forthcoming Octopus Syng set ‘hollow ghost / Rochelle salt’. Not due for release until the parting days of this coming July where it will appear sumptuously pressed on blue wax, it provides a darker and more considered affair for the Syng as they weave ever deeper into the eerie folds of Barrett’s shadowy magicalia as much evidenced on the ghostly haunting that is the darkly seductive ‘Lady Florette’ – a softly disturbed psychedelic pageant within whose tapestry passing nods to Paul Roland and Psychic TV solemly sit, stir and scare, whilst so far holding our attention hostage ‘melancholy of delight’ is shrouded in dead headed decaying pastorals, a witching beauty faded from light and daintily dappled in bitter sweet orchestral arrests harrowed in regret, dashed hopes and retrospection and caressed with a sylph like yearning majesty grace fallen and nodding to an exquisite craft that joins the dots between Ooberman, the Autumn Leaves and a Brian Jones in situ Stones. All said initial listens hint of much promise of a psychedelic delight to behold.     

This year marks the 10th anniversary of Boring Machines coming to be, this most eclectic and forward seeing Italian imprint will be marking the year-long celebrations with a host of specially selected releases both new and old as well as playing host to a few festival appearances – more details in a few days. At present we are ears deep in releases from Passed and 1997ev – so while we get to savouring those in readiness for future appearances and no doubt bestowing words of fondness here’s two video sound clips from Heroin in Tahiti whose long out of print ‘death surf’ and ‘Canicola’ sets are being pressed up in strictly limited quantities by the BM crew – best enjoyed through headphones with the volume cranked to maximum that way you get to fall headlong into their strangely woozy desert dry and humidly intoxicating Godspeed gone Arabesque and Morricone tripping grooving with Grails visitations……

Still getting the occasional daily blast on the Spotify playlist as we trundle unhappily to skull aching work boredom, this is the recently uber limited outing from future waving psychotronic dandy TVAM mentioned right here somewhere many moons ago….. https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/03/09/tvam-7/

<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/156781563″>TVAM – GAS &amp; AIR</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/tvam”>TVAM</a&gt; on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

Utterly adorable and lovingly laced in the kind of spring hued summer breezy bouquets that chime in softly dimpled west coast bliss bathed psych formations as to have outpourings of fond coos from musical corners so admiring of Lake Ruth and a youthful Soundcarriers – of course before they discovered fuzz, feedback and MBV, this, shy eyed souls, is Whyte Horses who have an album just out via CRC – their debut as it happens entitled ‘pop or not’ with a cut we mentioned way back in another age when fringes where longer – somewhere here all told…. https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2014/09/19/whyte-horses/

In the great Postcard records which do you prefer the Beatles or the Stones debate, I must admit I was always on the Josef K side of the fence, sure enough Orange Juice had the immediacy and the clarity of pop craft, no denying there, but for us, Josef K where a bit more, how shall I put it, off message, in so much as you suspected that they’d lived their entire lives free from musical influence in a hermetically sealed bubble, they sounded like no one else yet strangely sounded like everyone else, a rare trick and trait which unless I’m much mistaken is a common denominator of all classic band templates. An anthology of sorts has emerged on Les Disques du Crepescule entitled ‘it’s kinda funny’ gathers together in one place and on vinyl, all the bands singles and accompanying flip sides – included between the grooves the original Absolute version of ‘chance meeting’ and this little lost nugget……


Incoming on the ever cool Ghost Box imprint, ‘new ways out’ is the latest collection of vintage groove from Belbury Poly, an acutely cute dizzy ramble into old school space race kraut-tronica is hinted by the festooning of snippets currently reclining on his sound cloud page. Key watch words here are Kraftwerk and cosmic lounge, ‘the new harmony’ opens proceedings – a solar sun dazed slice of jet car power pop that impishly nods to the sons of Dusseldorf’s Beach Boys pastiche ‘Autobahn’ before hooking its mainframe to cruise control for a dreamy star kissed rove among the celestial twinkle sets on the back of Sterling Roswell. Ushering some divinely demurring ornate orchestral orbitals, ‘old ways in’ is an imagining alien seaside yarn squirreled in Australasian accents all heavily indebted to a youthful Jean Michel Jarre while ‘the green scene’ digs delicately into forgotten sonic flavourings dusted in 70’s tweaked cosmopolitan library grooving. Then there’s the mellowing lull of the lunar lilted Isan-ian like ‘downstream’ seducing the starry voids whilst playing tick with warm digits and fly which leaves ‘hey now here he comes’ to take a cue or three from midwich youth club to polish up a treat and into the bargain provide for a gloopy slice of pants swinging fat funky kookiness oozed in mirror balling glammed out disco goofiness etched in subtle side servings of snazzy kitsch beat pop.  https://soundcloud.com/ghost-box/sets/new-ways-out

release number eight in ghost box’s ongoing series of specially curated seven inch outings via their ‘other voices’ catalogue offers a chance to be both enchanted and beguiled in the company of Beautify Junkyards. No strangers to these pages, Beautify Junkyards craft demurred aural dainties ghosted in psychedelic whispers all lush with an intricate artistry oozed dreamily in spectral seduction, all exemplified to perfection on this arresting twin set. Alas only snippets, but more than enough to give fair hint of the wonders within, ‘constant flux’ sits at a rarefied grand top table folk placing with Magnet on one side and Circulus on the other to harvest a timeless muse that’s delicately dappled in bewitchment and desire, its beckoning charms dimpled in spring hued pastorals radiantly woo and caress with an ethereal enchantment to mask an underlying shadowy gauzing a la ‘the wicker man’. Not to be outdone, sitting over on the flip ‘piramide’ is similarly traced in an outer worldly soft psych vintage which to these ears sounds not unlike Le Mans at the height of their creative powers re-energising a mystical sonic palette drawn up of Free Design and Wendy and Bonnie essences. https://soundcloud.com/ghost-box/sets/other-voices-08-beautifyjunkyards

Radiohead’s as yet untitled ninth studio album will be available on digital platforms this Sunday 7pm GMT with physical and special variants to follow in June reports a typically tight lipped communique from their press folk along with news of a new teaser song and video to boot. As with ‘Burn the Witch’, the video accompanying ‘daydreaming’ is a typically cryptic affair portraying Mr Yorke entering in and out through a series of doors – one minute a hospital, the next a car park, a living room – very ‘the adjustment bureau’ – in what seems like a frantic attempt to escape to a quiet spot removed from civilisation / or connection. As to the track itself, very much flavoured in an ‘in rainbows’ aura, measured and elegant not to mention graced in noir tonalities which once passing through the initial dream draped flotillas beautifully courts upon a fragile frame dimpled in beautifully becoming frailly bruised minimalist piano motif (see Sakamoto, Antonymes, Haushka), whose spectral seduction with each passing cycle grows steadily in depth, detail and density revealing a mournfully sweetly soured hymnal orchestration, with the textures in swirl formations sighing around a clock working mosaic all the time ascending gracefully in ethereal patterns assuming a sense of frantic urgency getting ever more brittle, panoramic and paced, at the centre of which Yorke solemnly sighs in withdrawing reflection. And while we shouldn’t comment on such things, we did chuckle upon reading a comment by one wit, when most were attempting to decipher the meaning as to what he was looking for by saying ‘looks like he’s lost his weed’. 

Most arresting all said. 

those attending the forthcoming Games for May soiree being hosted by Fruits de Mer and Mega Dodo later this month will find yourselves the lucky recipients of a goodie bag within which you’ll find a DVD case containing four CD’s, each CD dedicated to each of the acts appearing at said event, mentions aplenty of which in the coming days. However, sneaked into your party pack you’ll also find a secret CD by Scott William Urquhart entitled ‘rosie’s smile’ EP – a five track serving of exquisitely crafted finger plucking perfection that received a modicum of quiet acclaim when it was released this time last year. Based in Stirling, Urquhart is one of those very rare master craftsmen schooled in the art of delta folk blues, these five finger plucking suites reveal not only a rewarding listening treat that enables the listener to escape to simpler pastures, but an intricate artistry rarely heard done better since the advent of the debuting full length ‘the improvised killing of uncle Faustus and other mythologies’ by David A Jaycock way back in the middle of the noughties. Possessed of a breeze blown intimacy, the rustic detailing within breathes with lush texturing ushering a sense of timeless back to the land pre consumerist carefree simplicity that’s uncluttered and absenting of the mayhem and rush of modern life, instead preferring to recline in a quietly hidden nature spot lazily sprawled beneath the overhang of a tree sky watching tranquilly the clouds trooping by above. In common with the likes of Wil Bolton and Jon Atwood in their more thoughtful moments, Urquhart’s folk alchemy is both free spirited and airy, ‘Galaxies’ in particular nods ever so delicately to both the late and sadly missed foot sonic soldiers Jack Rose and John Fahey while title track ‘Rosie’s smile’ is a hats doffing slice of classicism that salutes Blind Willie McTell.  http://scotturquhart.bandcamp.com/album/rosies-smile-e-p

staying with secret treats tucked inside goodie bags, Fruits de Mer’s planned summer soiree ‘the 14th dream’ festival, the one after ‘games for may’ – you’ll be greeted by a very special CD release by Jay Tausig – who at one time was a regular feature around these parts but of late has – I’m grumbling to say – gone a little quiet. Now we’ve managed to lose sight off the link / posting with all the handy back ground info on this, but I’m sure I seem to remember mention made of 200 specially pressed up CD’s, don’t quote me on that though. Entitled ‘reflections and quiet splendour’ – the set features two cuts revealing of the many varying sonic personas of Tausig. ‘quiet splendour’ is a mammoth thirty-minute head trip that curiously finds Tausig freewheeling the whole sonic spectrum whilst likewise, strangely for him, playing a straight bat in its execution. Irrefutably awed by Floyd, it’s a lengthy symphonic dream cycle concentrated on sound textures, whose sonic tapestry is soured in a distantly thoughtful melancholia, book ended in piano interludes wrapped in nostalgic auras that seamlessly dovetail jauntily into mellowing cosmic folk raptures themselves dissipating into beardy ambient overtures not to mention kosmiche detours, you can’t help noting the loose freeform artistry applied within, its fractured dislocation crookedly veers from being part woozy, part chin stroking and part trippy with Tausig at times found slipstreaming between the hairy elements of an anything goes attitude Dungen to the story book visioning of Mike Oldfield and the out-there wig out Frippiness of the Ozrics. At 7 minutes in length ‘reflections’ is the more together sibling of the set, very Tangerine Dream though that’d be a clearly stoned and wasted TD, in short a gorgeously crafted lunar mosaic delicately ghosted in a drifting delta folk detailing for the best part before jettisoning off into bliss bathed climes aboard on what can only be described as an astral magic carpet ride.  https://jaytausig.bandcamp.com/album/reflections-and-quiet-splendor  

occasional visitors to these pages will have noted our erstwhile affection for hole house in recent months, a positively eerie release via aetheric records rumoured to be field recordings from a visit to a long since derelict and once infamous premises of a VHS rental shop that in truth out creeps even Roadside Picnic at their most oblique and weird. Featured below you’ll find three versions of ‘the other side of despair’, the original a chilling aural account of hypno-grooved Quatermass styled radiophonic pulsars and insectoid transmissions from beyond the veil which per it’s sound cloud postings is dutifully described as hash-tag ‘horrid’ – for admirers of Mount Vernon Arts Lab methinks. But then White join in with the hand holding séance celebrations to usher in a little lightness to the claustrophobic disquiet and etch into the bargain what emerges as a Goblin-esque mosaic dragged straight from a classic Fulci backdrop though here tenderly caressed and frost framed by a lulling No Ceremony. Third and final variant comes courtesy of Melting who serve up a slice of rather tasty bass heavy hypno-wiring pulsar psychotronics that whiffs agreeably of the much missed Add N to X.




eyed this on a dangerous minds posting, three specially curated mixes by French music producer Drixxxe featuring rare erotic groove sourced from 70’s soft core cinema, okay yes a lot of its quite cheesy as you expect for scratch that groovy itch and you’ll unearth a fair few slices of lounge naughtiness like the sensually aroused ‘la via della prostituzione’ by Nico Fidenco, some nifty lounge funk from walter murphy via ‘hocus pocus’ and the killer noir jazz incidentals drifting by on ‘better things to do than talk to those three weirdos’ from the Russ Meyer soundtrack collection while what kind of sex-o-ramic mix set would this be without the occasional appearance of Serge Gainsbourg here featured courtesy of ‘sex shop’ – and that’s just the first mix, cold shower time. http://dangerousminds.net/comments/hours_and_hours_of_an_awesome_mix_of_songs_from_70s_porn_films

featured this a little while back, pulled from a rather adorable EP entitled ‘distancia’ out now through the ever reliable gerpfast kollektif imprint, this is dream popping sirens Hellens with the vapour trailing beauty ‘fadeaway’ – best thing we’ve heard around these here parts outside of a slice of lillies on mars effervescence….

In case you missed earlier visitations…. https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2016/04/06/hellens/

Any information on this lot greatly received, originally out two years ago when it appeared on a long since sold out cassette compilation entitled ‘snowbeast records’ Halloween compilation 2’ through – yes you guessed it – snowbeast records – a collection well worth tracking down I’d suggest with this quite desirable beauty ‘bedroom #2’ by Azul Toga getting something of a new lease of life courtesy of a recently posted video, a simple though effective slice of dreamy ethereal yearn draped in spectral halos all trimmed in a shyly retiring gauzing that sounds much like a celestial occurrence from a subdued Slowdive.

This entry was posted in groovy bastards..., Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s