Heatwave! Businesslunch! 

We’ve been working hard if working hard is threatening to paint walls, budget furniture shopping and working on a theory based around the axis of cool / lame which Sanjay has been developing in his spare time.

If Grandad could see me now..

Maintaining focus, some dead gid stuff showing up. Haven’t had THE BUZZ outta a mail-out as much as this one in wee while, so hopefully it should lift some sweaty spirits amidst your commute to/from HELL. Bleugh!!! 
Also some timely restocks in - that REQ double cassette is back on a second edition, the lost Israeli wildcard that apparently loads of people were waiting for - Amnon Raviv's "Mirror" and that garden-shed sheathed SCREAMER comp on Kashual Plastik, "No Order In Destiny".
See below!

LC xx


TURMANATOR TRANCE! Nerve-damaged, hallucinatory zoners non pareil...Robert Turman’s Flux is back in print on eat-yer-dinner-off-it 2LP and as mesmerising, whacked-out and unsettling as ever. Fuck me, it’s so good. I have no idea where RT’s head was at when he made this, but it feels like a vision of minimalism as mental illness, ambient as analogue for numbness and despond. It was his first solo release, and marked a conscious turn away from the nihilistic industrial muse he’d pursued in his previous work with NON, Z.O. Voider and others. But its meditative, measured, often breathtakingly pretty long-form pieces - each one “a complex bed of interweaving micro-stasis” made with simple configurations of tape-loops, piano, kalimba and Mini Pops Jr drum machine – have a scarred, PTSD feel, their gently eddying currents of sound suggestive of all kinds of suppressed nastiness. But hey that’s just me! Maybe the guy was genuinely jus' relaxing. It’s hard to think of many comparable records, but there’s an unmistakeable Satie influence in the gently climbing piano motifs, and elsewhere the smeared pastorals of Andrew Chalk and Vikki Jackman come to mind, but the zombie andante / zen-techno pulsations of its second half are of another planet entirely. All-timer.

EXIT | 12" | £9.99

Everything we wanted from dnb in 2019 but were afraid to ask...Skeptical's stuff sometimes leaves us a bit cold but these four dubwise, armour-plated, ultra-technical steppers are the business, with minimal, dungeon-decimating bassline torpedo 'Charge' the pick of the bunch. The production is unbelievable, seemingly sent back from the future with express orders to KILL KILL KILL, and unlike so many of is contemporaries Skep doesn't ruin every breakdown / drop-out with dodgy samples of film dialogue, instead keeping dance and bonce properly dialled-into the eternal dystopian moment. Required wreckers! 
IKUISUUS | CS | £6.99

Rabid Finns BLASTING out some smash and grab free muzak voodoo with deformed, blown-out grooves and brooding, midnight atmospheres that give ye the same high-torque hairdryer treatment as you would get sat in the front row at a Cairo Free Jazz Ensemble gig or listening to a Vermonster LP full blast in a shipping container. 

Unsettling as it is INVIGORATING, layers upon layers of elastic electronics and graceful keys lurking around - spectators to the reoccurring elephant seal deathmatch between the soaring brass and frantic percussion and leaving the whole thing feeling a bit like the soundtrack to some demented ritual that involves throwing a pile of Albert Ayler records down the stairs on the stroke of midnight, fuck knows - where’s me inhaler!?
Edition of 75.

Psycho electronic whirlwind rescued from 1976 - Horacio Vaggione and Eduardo Polonio’s maiden voyage before becoming seasoned synth nutters ( Vaggione’s “La Maquina De Cantar” and Polonio’s “Acacia La Mañana” WELL worth a gander).

In perfect cadence with the bustling, blossoming coral reef sleeve, “Viaje” is a vivid, glistening electronic ecosystem that could go head to head with all of the we-are-not-worthy astral synth spooling of all the other finest Creel Pone’d gear (Jack Tamul / Jean Hoyoux / Michael Lobel ++) that evolves with an impulsive, at times aggressive balance of improvisation / composition.

The three long-form pieces see melodies rapidly sprouting and developing in the spaces between the sprawling synthesiser tones, like plants amidst the fissures in a rock, the sonic void rapidly overflowing to shattering what anyone would think to be the limitations of the sonic spectrum!

I guess in that sense it has the properties of a noise record, all the dense, electronic landscaping and psychedelia that escalates into climactic studio pile-ups (easy lads!!) subsiding and leaving you with more space than you ever knew existed, like you’ve just realised you are trapped in a cave that is the size of the earth. Help!!

Nowt banal or bearded about this planet crashing summer scrambler. MENTAL.

ULTRA ECZEMA | LP | £17.99

Trust ol’ man Tyfus to unleash this American psychobilly, Frankie Hurricane, onto unsuspecting European audiences. The album (originally a self-released tape, then issued as a CDR on Joshua Burkett's Mystra label) is tie-dye Manson Family folk meets the ear-worm vocal melodies and loner-jazz/orchestral arrangements of Blod’s Knutna Nävar. Throw in the heart-bleed blooz of ‘One Night At Wildorado’ and it’s only a sidestep to the ‘gangstrous’ hip-hop excursions of ‘Who U Is?’ and ‘Pymp World’ around the corner (neither of which would be out of place on Del-boy Edwards’ L.A. Club Resource). It’s an art-damaged-folk DIY-hip-hop-country travelogue clearly patched together at different times with borrowed equipment and with no mind paid to consistency (refreshing!). The fact that the LP was written in Georgia might be the only thing that gives it any sense of plausible context. But only maybe. Approach this one with an open mind and you shall be rewarded time and time again. Edition of 250 copies with insert. 
SEAGRAVE | 2CS | £13.99

WHOA. Much needed second edition of this staggeringly well-presented double-cassette compilation of unreleased tracks from the archives of one of our all-time favourite producers: UK graffiti pioneer and Brighton native REQ, whose deep, droning, dub-smudged hip-hop scapes quietly deconstructed and remodelled the genre in late 90s - for those who were listening, anyway. We’re paraphrasing slightly, but it was another avowed fan, Lee Gamble, who said that REQ’s 1997 album One is to hip-hop what A Guy Called Gerald’s Black Secret Technology is to jungle. Like B.S.T., REQ’s music has a strung-out, quiet, reflective, Isolationist intensity to it, it’s music made not for the dancefloor but for intense private zoning… proper head music, unerringly rhythmic but constantly threatening pure ambient drift, and sounding as alien, smoked-out and futuristic today as it did 20+ years ago. Curt, tuff boom-bap rhythms are smeared and smothered into space-curdling abstraction, loops are sustained and hooks repeated for way longer than any right-thinking rap producer would dare - yeah REQ’s music feels, at times, like hip-hop extrapolated into a new kind of minimal B-boy techno. Not to mention the foregrounding of crackle and tape-hiss, reverb and delay, which is rooted in classic 90s sampledelia but clearly prefigures the early 2000s micro/dub experiments of Jan Jelinek, Pole etc and the kind of ultra-spatialised sound design we take totally for granted today. The lost tunes assembled across this set of two tapes feel like tunes too long, too cerebral, too fucked-up to fit in the context or duration of a conventional, commercially released album, and as such they represent REQ at his most bold, idiosyncratic and avant-garde. Seriously, fucking hell, this is nothing short of the MOTHERLODE. I need to have a lie-down. 

Pair of pro-dubbed cassettes - 1 black, 1 white - with contrasting on-body prints from REQ's 90's graffiti blackbook. Supplied in a double butterfly case with full-colour double-sided j-cards. Includes download code and die-cut sticker designed by REQ.


This Kind of Punishment’s third and final album: reverberant art-rock death-jag In The Same Room. If TKOP’s self-titled debut was the sound of a band finding its feet, and if the texturally adventurous chamber-pop on Beard of Bees is represents their artistic zenith, then In The Same Room is… what? Well it's my favourite, for what its worth. Beautifully, vividly recorded - its title couldn’t be more apt, this now extremely rare swansong for one of New Zealand's best ever bands offers an embarrassment of riches: ‘Immigration Song’ and ‘Don’t Go’ hark back to the post-punk slash-and-burn of the pre-TKOP grouping Nocturnal Projections, the spiky, jangling folk implosions of ‘Overground In China’ and ‘The Men By The Pool’ anticipate Peter Jeffries’ surly solo masterpiece Last Great Challenge In A Dull World, while the windswept widescreen ‘On Various Days’ surely numbers among the very best songs in the Flying Nun catalogue. Absolute belter. 
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