Label Description: Recorded in Ipswich in the mid 1980’s, using two track reel to reel tape recorders, cassette recorders, SCI Pro One, bass and electric guitars, Boss DE-200 digital delay, Roland TR-606 drum machine, Colorsound fuzzbox, Shure SM50 mic, radio and various effects pedals.
Label Description: The ghost was in the refrigerator…. Dormant for years. Just part of the furniture in an expensive , fashionable kitchen. An ingredient, an under taste, aftertaste. Recently departed yet undeniably present. A memory trapped in the freezing domain , jealous of the new life that developed when a slice of cheese or carton of yoghurt had been there just a little too long. The ghost had all the time in the World. Not our World .The ghost’s World… parallel with no overlap, no line of reliable communication until one ordinary day in October. That was the day when the dimensions collided and crumbled . And The family was away on vacation as the ice melted, the butter melted, the milk boiled, the carrots cooked, the cans blackened and the flames leapt. That’s when the ghost left the refrigerator….. Restless ,onwards . To the microwave. Off with the child lock, crunching the numbers. Spinning upwards as the flames spread and engulfed the expensive kitchen. And the ghost in the tv triggered Channel X, the forbidden one. As performers tumbled from the screen, fused together on a burning carpet while the alarm howled… howled with laughter. And the thermostat flashed crimson and an impossible number jumped from the display, cartwheeled to the curtains, climbed the curtains and behold… the ghosts were upstairs. Floor 2, floor 3, floor 53. A sky on fire as the frightened city dialled for help. But there was no help. Because the ghosts in the phones jammed the touchscreens, sang jingles, burned holes in the palms of impassioned believers, who prodded and prodded, and couldn’t give in.Yet they had to give in. See…This was the day the experts predicted. The was the day we knew HAD to come. And the star chambers buzzed while bad actors cried ‘blameless’.And fingers tapped buttons that beamed leafy green.. This fire raged from Seattle to Seoul, Penn State to Pyongyang, Santiago, Saskatchewan, Moscow, London, Paris ,Prague. The planet burned brightly as ghosts raised their torches. The dead took revenge on the living … until no one was living. EK
Label Description: Bruto Industries presents Slammer Weapons EP by Colombian producer Filmmaker, the label’s third 12-inch release.
Five original tracks built on EBM, industrial, and electro, infused with elements of dungeon synth and centered around a raw, dark, and distinctive sonic identity.
The tracks explore a range of tempos and have been conceived as club tools: sonic weapons designed to work at varying levels of intensity.
Dob41 closes out the EP with a remix of “Swordmaster,” reimagining the original track with a more extreme and direct approach. agining the original track with a more extreme and direct approach.
Mixed and Mastered by Dan Böhler. Artwork by Lucas Salinas. Distributed by Melting Pot Records.
For the next in the quiet details series, pleased to present a collaboration between Craig Tattersall, the humble bee, and Alex Gold, fields we found – here as the shallow margins, with tule.
Craig is an essential part of quiet details, opening our series with qd01 lichen cloak on a white stone, and qd09 the observatories (with Ian Hawgood) frost forms – both quintessential embodiments of the label’s ethos. A legendary figure in the world of the most subtle and thoughtful music – Craig has a wonderful back catalogue on his own Cotton Goods and many other excellent labels.
I’m Alex, making music as fields we found and curating quiet details. It is my great fortune to work with Craig – we’ve know each other for a long time now and he’s a dear friend, and I consider him to be one of the most creative artists working today.
Since recovering from lymphoma a couple of years ago, my outlook on my own music shifted in a deeply positive way, more introspective and free – so the timing was perfect for us to start this project, something much discussed.
Inspired by a mutual love of ecology and fragments of sound, and the margins of our lives – shaped into musical form.
Quiet and textural – these pieces are a view through misted glass, clouded and suggesting a reflection on the layers found within. Emotions conveyed through hand-played instruments, magnetic tape and the patina of many generations of recording.
Sharing sounds back-and-forth – piano, harmonium, field recordings, long free-form experiments from collections of instruments and more.
Recorded and looped on multiple tape machines and old samplers – coaxing out the underlying sonic remnants, and bringing those traces into view.
Endless thanks to Craig for this, and his constant inspiration.
The artwork was made as always influenced by the music and idea behind the album – originating from a photo from the humble bee which was then captured with analogue photography and processed here at quiet details studios.
As usual, the album is presented on the physical edition, a custom six-panel digipack with a separate fine art print too.
The CD also has a special long-form continuous mix of the album, unique and representing the music in its purest form.
Label Description: Neo psychedelic doom metal from Amsterdam. Drone-laced riffs and thunderous grooves with bluesy vocals and electric violin in a maelstrom of feedback, loops, and effects.
Label Description: Colombian based live act Dead Artist is back after his contribution to ‘Pulsating Body’ compilation, this time with a 4 track EP titled ‘Fantasy Of Progress’ loaded of frenetic rhythmic noise and harsh electropunk. In his words “The progress is perfect when it doesn’t touch their fictional castles, when it doesn’t select their sons for war. The progress is perfect when doesn’t dirty their cities of putrid soul.
The watchful eye, the police, and the state hidden hand restrict inhabiting the city.
Concrete Cemetery / Future Dead Cities
Tracks by Dead Artist Artwork & mastering by Faunes Efe
Label Description: The Seven Dogs serves up an astonishing excursion through deeply hypnotic melodies and idiosyncratic grooves, courtesy of an iconic link-up between Rteph88 aka Robin Taylor-Firth and Steve Cobby.
Taylor-Firth and Cobby are musicians whose careers are so richly storied, broad-ranging, and impactful that it’s difficult to summarise their output and impact in so few words. Both Taylor-Firth and Cobby firmly established themselves in the 90s, being involved in some of the era’s most prominent and celebrated groups and for releasing some truly era-defining records. As such, their discographies reach far and wide, from house and techno cuts through to downtempo, drum’n’bass and leftfield, there is little that is left uncovered, and this spirit remains with them both as they continue to explore the outer parameters of their sounds.
Taylor-Firth, a songwriter, arranger, and producer, is perhaps best known for his long association with Warp Records and its sublabel Nucleus, and for his work as a member of Nightmares on Wax, where his signature keyboard playing style became a staple of the group’s legendary sound. Alongside this, he has hundreds of songwriting and arranging credits on a dizzying array of records, and was a member of house music group Anon and Pio Bo alongside Richard Barratt – to name but a few selected highlights of his extraordinary career. Cobby’s career is distinguished by his multitude of releases under a variety of aliases, along with his helming of a number of imprints, including Pork Recordings and his most recent label Déclassé. Experimenting with a wide variety of genres and sounds, perhaps his best-known work was with the duo Fila Brazillia alongside Dave McSherry, who released a plethora of immersive and innovative records in the 90s and beyond.
‘Seven Dogs’ represents a shared passion, vision, and musicality, two languages borne of similar spaces but reaching through time, space, and existence in creating a richly veiled musical experience that draws from lifetimes spent within the nucleus of music’s soul. The EP speaks of the present as such as the past and indeed future, hinting with motifs that feel right at home within sun-kissed skies and within the walls of the chill out rooms. ‘Early Doors’, the EP’s opener, displays the core fundamentals of the unfolding experience, namely the intrinsic relationship between keys and drums and how they express tone and mood. The piano gently caresses, ethereally floating with space to grow, as the drums lightly swing into life, providing an engrossing and rhythmically diverse groove that nods as much as it dives. The title track lands next and leads with a more driving feel. Sonically, the track leads with an oozing bass sequence that worms through the mid range before retreating under an array of compelling piano chords. The drums once again provide a strong backbone, allowing the melodic elements up top to fully express themselves – in a myriad of ways, murmuring and clamouring all at once.
‘Visiting Hobo’ brings the groove down a few notches. Slightly sombre in its delivery, the piano and bass interchange above a sparse yet hard-hitting groove, with as much emphasis placed on the emptiness as on the melodically full sections. The piano has a certain tonality here, with the notes containing a large amount of textural reverb that helps the track feel alive, almost growing out of the speakers. Wrapping things up is ‘Titled’, which begins with the keys and an array of whimsical features. The drums allow themselves time to grow into being, but when they do, they simmer within an enriching melange. It’s a fitting end to a record that abounds with sonic consideration, environmental and emotive feeling, where two technicians bring their best and serve up four tracks of such sublimeness and thoughtfulness. One to drift deep within, on those hot summer days….
Label Description: The past isn’t real, the future ain’t happening, all we’ve got is right now and Go Public and You Are Traffic: Hey now, don’t dream it’s over. An Atlanta band naming a record after traffic might be like dropping a two-ton anvil right on the biggest Bozo-red clown nose imaginable, but there are levels to every parking deck. Maybe it’s a gridlock of the soul? The close-together shame of becoming a stranger, a slow motion accident of skeleton details? This band’s business—skronky contortions and nope wave deconstructions, prickly wisdom and post-punk pith—is ageless yet absolutely right this very moment, distilling the cosmically unique pointlessness of this number that never should’ve become a year, and magnifying the microscopic glimmer of hope at its furthest corner. Call it dice-roll politics: a saving throw at a craps tempo—bleakly vibrant jams for endtime dance parties.
These men have been in bands. You have maybe heard those bands, if you live in Georgia, or are their friends. Their bands were good; this band is great. Go Public can drop names, a whole catholic education of influences and inspirations, from every acre of the radio dial; but what matters is what comes out, not what goes in. You Are Traffic has few peers; brittle but hard-boiled, it’s a swinging splatterhouse of booksmart, tough guy art with the jittery anxiety of Talking Heads and the restless musicality of This Heat in equal measure. The guitar sounds like a dayglo glass sword, for Christ’s sake. Sean Rawls and Adrian Finch yelp and squelch frantic findings while Sam Gunn and Jay Domingo hold everything down with one-mind chops and muscle memory, culminating in a crucial half-hour of modern American noise unrestrained by any boundaries, be they stylistic or terrestrial. You Are Traffic and you’re reading this on whatever day this is and it’s the perfect time to get personal with Go Public.–Garrett Martin