Slide 1
Guest Playlist #06: Matt Bower of Wizards Tell Lies

By Steve Dewhurst

“When I started buying films on VHS, I would record the sound onto tape so I could take the film with me on journeys.”

Pete Swanson
Enough Dark Intensity: An Interview with Jimmy Lacy of SiP

By Jason Cabaniss

"I like the idea of “cocktail music.” Something intentionally light and pleasant. I’m always trying to write music that communicates some type of positive mood and when I’m playing, trying to focus my energy there"

Slide 2
Clean is Dirty: An Interview with Flowertown

By Lindsay Oxford

The birth of San Francisco’s Flowertown makes for a good story: longtime Bay Area scene compatriots Karina Gill (Cindy) and Mike Ramos (Tony Jay) compose a song together for an upcoming show in later winter 2020, and the day before they’re slated to play it, the world stopped.

Slide 3
Needles and Pins: Derek Piotr's Journey to the Heart of Britain's Folklands

By Steve Dewhurst

“Yorkshire is not so dissimilar to my home in the Northeast of America,” Derek Piotr tells me from York, the latest stop on his great British journey. “Connecticut is part of New England, so that makes sense.”

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266sx, “Rave of Redemption”

Good luck trying to pin this one down. Holy fuck, I don’t know why I even thought I could adequately review it because I have no real idea what it is. There’s a little DJ /rupture in its skittish willingness to smash genres, a pinch of c / a in the abstruseness of its jagged angles, perhaps a snippet of Prolaps in its warp-speed embrace of harmonic insanity and an equally rich prior release for Ascetic House for comparison, but aside from that… well, it’s pretty phenomenal, actually, so let’s just give this a go. 

An unrelenting blend of fractal noise, defective bass, sludgy Middle Eastern vox and whatever samples were kicking around in the dust on the studio floor at the time of creation, Rave of Redemption is half-an-hour of jolting, virtuosic joy. If Lázaro Común chose his artistic moniker in homage to Roberto Bolaño’s legendarily perplexing final book, the fragmentary pulp of styles, threads and themes presented here is a fine sonic equivalent. “[P]aranoia as to what is the true nature of events” is the way Común describes the record’s influence – a sentiment that could just as easily characterise the experience of reading the great Chilean novelist or, indeed, the psychology of any number of his uniquely frangible protagonists. 

There are no beats here that aren’t of the shatteringly explosive kind, repeatedly splitting surface layers of queasy ambience and plaintive invocation into stuttering, squealing shards. Coiling strains of IDM, glitch and Footwork compete violently for prominence, often tangling themselves into tight, heaving knots from which immolation offers the only escape.  Constituent titles such as “redentor” and “mass for public violence” seem to gnash and tear at the very fabric of their existence, and “dundarave” sprints breathlessly from a dark and violent foe. Respite is frequent but chillingly brief; cold, Pendereckian breaks in tracks like “lázaro ven hacia tu” are too unnerving to soothe, simply building tension as yet another contorted onslaught readies its arrival. As things come to an end, Común delivers a ghostly sermon, his vocals whispered and wavering as tribal drums and whiplash electronics clash beneath and the spirit of Alan Vega is felt all around.