Jepe debuts on Budakid's Flores label with a brand new three track offering titled 'So Lonely', the release combines original tracks 'So Lonely' and 'Monologues' with a great title track remix from the label boss himself. Launched in 2024, Flores has already seen musical contributions from producers such as Matthias Meyer, Gregor Tresher, Panthera Krause, […]
Wyndham Wallace looks at the oft-neglected follow-up to FGTH's debut, Liverpool which was released in 1986
Compare and contrast: "The world is my oyster," the opening words to Frankie Goes To Hollywood's debut album, 1984's Welcome To The Pleasuredome. Delivered by Holly Johnson in the flippant style of a cartoon villain, a cackling laugh in their wake.
"I'm looking for something and I don't know what it is," the last words to Frankie Goes To Hollywood's second and final album, 1986's Liverpool. Delivered by Holly Johnson in the style of a man running on empty, almost bereft of hope. What a difference a couple of years can make.
Frankie Goes To Hollywood first hit the top of the UK charts at the...
The post Beyond The Pleasuredome: Frankie Goes To Hollywood's Liverpool 40 Years On appeared first on The Quietus.
Ian Winwood looks back 40 years to his first contact with an imperial and imperious Slayer and their third album's "frenzied scream of wall-eyed mayhem"
On the weekend before Christmas, in 2020, I sent a friend a text message comprised of just three words. It read:
Epidemic. Permanent disease.
I had no doubt that my old familiar would recognise the bulletin as being a snippet of a lyric from Reign In Blood, by Slayer. Thirty-four years earlier, while listening for the first time to an import edition of the album dispatched by post from Shades Records, in Soho, the two of us had been forever conjoined by the fiercest musical experience of our teenage lives. We'd stood transfixed in the front row of...
The post An Evergreen Lodestar of all that is Abominable: How Reign in Blood Changed Metal appeared first on The Quietus.
The surviving members of Faust's original line-up present four perspectives on the krautrock institution's indomitable spirit, writes Abi Bliss in The Wire 513
Faust
Fliegen Lernen
Bureau B CD/DL/LP
Gugaruz
Bureau B CD/DL/LP
MOI
Bureau B CD/DL/LP
Ungebunden
Bureau B CD/DL/LP
At the peak of their success in 1978, the four members of US rock group Kiss all released solo albums on the same day. This move - born as much from hubris as internal rivalry - backfired as sales fell short of the anticipated windfall.
A world in which Faust ever acheived that degree of fame is hard to picture. And yet this handful of simultaneous albums bearing the veteran German group's name is in effect four individual projects, each "curated" - as per the official crediting - by one of the surviving musicians of Faust's initial 1971-74 incarnation (Rudolf Sosna, the originator of such beguiling dream logic melodies as "Jennifer" and "Flashback Caruso", died in 1996, while drummer Arnulf Meifert was ousted after Faust's self-titled debut, purportedly for crimes including keeping his room tidy and practising daily).
Rather than being a four-way clash of egos between Gunther Wüsthoff, Zappi W Diermaier, Hans-Joachim Irmler and Jean-Hervé Péron, these albums offer a temporary syncing of the timelines for a group whose long and frequently fractured history means that any future biopic would require a script somewhere between Rashomon and the "I'm Spartacus!" scene in Stanley Kubrick's Spartacus, narrated through heavy clouds of dope smoke.
Emerging in 1971 from the joining of two existing groups, Nukleus and Campylognatus Zitelli, the punchier named Faust formed at the behest of producer and journalist Uwe Nettelbeck, to satisfy Polydor's thirst for an act that would conjure Beatles-esque profits out of West Germany's defiantly countercultural rock scene. Strangely, the hirsute and often naked members of Faust proved as unmouldable and hard to market as many of their peers. Using the advance to set up a home studio in the countryside outside Bremen, months of seclusion and experimentation produced two albums before they were dropped, picked up by Virgin for 1973's cut-price success The Faust Tapes and the less lucrative Faust IV, before being dropped again. An aborted fifth album eventually saw light as 2022's Punkt.
Diermaier, Irmler and Péron revived the group in the 1990s in various incarnations that eventually splintered, resulting in several different versions of Faust touring and recording until the present, apparently without rancour. Interviewed in The Wire 452, Péron said: "There is no animosity. There is no competition… I think Faust is an idea, is a concept, is an approach to music. It is a spirit."
What, then, is the defining spirit of Faust as expressed through these albums? For Wüsthoff, formerly the synth player/saxophonist and absent from reunions until 2022, Fliegen Lernen is an opportunity to reframe the group's 1970s inventions through a 21st century lens, drawing upon archive material to pair signature krautrock sounds with crisp, purposeful electronica in an acknowledgement of Faust's influence upon generations of groups armed with sequencers, not guitars.
Opening with a dusty piano which could have tumbled straight out of The Faust Tapes, "Hörst Du Die Schritte" combines perkiness - handclaps, parping sax - with a sinister undercurrent emanating from monotone chanted vocals and the efficiency with which it ushers the past into a strict 4/4. "Down, Down And Come To Me" wrestles assorted field recordings into a commanding slice of 1980s Cabaret Voltaire-style industrial pop, and "Ganz Gut, Oder?" ends the album with a monomaniacal one-note riff and backbeat pairing reminiscent of Faust's Tony Conrad collaboration Outside The Dream Syndicate. But there's room to breathe between, from the twinkling synths of "Sonntag Nachmittag" to the lonely kosmische vistas of "Sandra Tanzt".
Unsurprisingly, for drummer Diermaier, the spirit of Faust lives on in the groove, and in Gugaruz he's assisted in that pursuit by Schneider TM's Dirk Dresselhaus on bass and Elke Drapatz on electronics. After riffing upon the album title (the Bavarian word for maize) with a flurry of percussive pops and dings, the trio settle into "Big Field", an ode to the hypnotic flatlands of northern Germany offering 15 minutes of steady horizons and slowly unfurling guitar feedback as bass pulses and hi-hats tick by. "Space Agent" contrasts satisfyingly resonant, widely panned toms with accumulating layers of increasingly urgent guitar; "Schleuse" is a rattle around metal railings, punctuated by harbour seagulls: like much of the rest, its playful charm seemingly born from relaxed, openhearted collaboration.
They'd struggle to compete with Jean-Hervé Péron on headcount, however, as MOI - subtitled Maybe Of Interest - boasts around 20 contributors, its name (and official crediting to FaUSt) a riff on collective creativity. In contrast, Hans-Joachim Irmler's Ungebunden (translation: Unbound) finds him solo at the organ. While Péron leans into Faust's reputation for shaking the subconscious with dada-esque collage, Irmler offers four long, mostly improvised pieces that move patiently through cycles of growth and decay, bubbling and distortion, ruin then renewal.
Yet amid the radio snippets, cheeky trumpet lines, bowed cymbals, crashing drum rolls, recited poetry, scurrying piano and anarchic guitar fuzz, Péron surprises with outbreaks of seriousness. "Writings On The Wall" collates graffiti-esque slogans to powerful effect, and the weepy jazz ballad "Du Fehlst Mir" ("I Miss You") is apparently delivered straight. Is the group's spirit encapsulated by either Irmler's Mellotron loops or Péron's couplet "I love that making music/It is just like making shoes/Sometimes they fit the ballet/Sometimes they're for the blues", from "Diabolus In Musica"? If Faust are ultimately about freedom from expectations then the answer is neither, and both.
This review appears in The Wire 513 along with many other reviews of new and recent records, books, films, festivals and more. To read them all, pick up a copy of the magazine in our online shop. Wire subscribers can also read the issue in our online magazine library.
After almost two decades of releasing music, German producer Sven Tasnadi returns to his roots with Explorer, a four-track EP that finds him reconnecting with the
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The post Premiere: Sven Tasnadi - Explorer appeared first on Inverted Audio.
Huge congratulations to Hannah Peel, whose Underland score has been nominated for an Ivor Novello award!
The winners will be revealed at The Ivors Composer Awards, sponsored by PRS for Music and in association with BBC Radio 3, on 17 November at Grosvenor House, London.
Stream or buy Underland here via Bandcamp.
A world premiere of the score takes place as part of the Hannah Peel In Focus series at the Barbican on 23-24 October 2026, for which very limited numbers of tickets are still available.
Claire Sawers talks to director Jeanie Finlay about her hard-hitting, emotionally resonant documentary about toxic pollution of UK waters, which doubles as love letter to the north east
Stan Rennie takes a tea break, by Jeanie Finlay
"I'm sick as a chip", says Stan Rennie. He's dressed in shiny orange fisherman's bibs and lifejacket, sat aboard his blue and white boat, the Sarah Lynn, on the waters around Hartlepool. That particular Northernism nails his beyond fed up feeling. We'd say 'seek' in Scots. Flattened by the injustice of his situation and we're right there with him. It's at the end of the documentary All Rivers Spill Their Stories To The Sea and we're glimpsing a rare moment of despondency from the...
The post Fisherman's Blues: the Damning Indictment cast by All Rivers Spill Their Stories To The Sea appeared first on The Quietus.
Your latest guide to the British underground comes with bananas mashcore from a huge crew of Rotherham children, a demonstration of the discombobulatory potential of the human voice, and much more
V.I.V.E.K
Unfathomable amounts of music are being recorded around the world daily, more than you could hear in a thousand lifetimes with access to a server bigger than the Ritz. And even then, not everything is getting captured. Think how many formalised music-making sessions are happening somewhere, as I write and you read. The participants are likely finding their feet and letting off steam, not attempting to create something for public consumption. But what if someone involved realises the cultural value of what they're doing, and lets the tape roll?
That's what...
The post New Weird Britain in Review for October, by Noel Gardner appeared first on The Quietus.
Storefront Church
Blue Movie
When he's not playing session for Perfume Genius and Phoebe Bridgers, Lukas Frank is getting seedy with Storefront Church
Blue Movie by Storefront Church
God knows if they were handing out fivers for every time the phrase 'it's like a soundtrack to a film that hasn't been made yet' appeared in a press release or blurb, then no one would need to be writing reviews and instead they'd be lavishing it up in a bath of cash, but Los Angeles' Storefront Church's latest, and third album proper, Blue Movie, is just that. Frontman Lukas Frank has dabbled in soundtracks as well as having a few bits of acting on his CV, so if anyone knows what he's doing, he does.
Having...
The post Storefront Church - Blue Movie appeared first on The Quietus.
Charlie May Live at the Barbican for Sasha's Refracted Tour
Few artists have left as significant a mark on electronic music as Charlie May. From the formative days of UK electronic music as one half of Spooky, to his longstanding creative partnership with Sasha and his pivotal role in records such as Xpander, to his releases here on ASIP as part of Quiet Places. Charlie has been responsible for some of the genre's most significant moments - and many of my own personal favorites.
Charlie's latest album here on ASIP, Trusted Farms, provides us with yet another small glimpse into his beautiful mind. The album marks his first solo album on vinyl, bringing together a collection of beatless compositions, some of which have been quietly taking shape for more than a decade. Trusted Farms reveals the melodic instincts, experimentation and unmistakable production touch that have defined his work for so many years, boiled down into a succinct and emotionally charged 12".
Getting to know Charlie through this release, there's a certain humility that feels increasingly rare; an artist responsible for some of electronic music's most celebrated moments, yet one who has always seemed perfectly content to remain behind the scenes, letting the music speak for itself.
It's therefore a real pleasure to bring Charlie into the spotlight for a small moment, and share the words, stories and insights of someone who has been such an inspiration to us over the years.
ASIP: I wanted to start at the start… with Spooky. But I don't think there's much detail before then out in the world. So, who was Charlie May before Spooky?
Charlie May: Duncan and I grew up together so we had been mucking about in bands for years prior to forming Spooky. Obviously the arrival of acid house had a huge impact on us. I had always been into music, taping things off the radio. Singing in school choirs. I learned the piano from age 4 and started improvising and making my own music soon after. I used to mess about with 2 cassette decks, recording between them and overdubbing parts. I still find that process fascinating - the way that two or more musical parts or sounds combine.
One reason I got into music in a big way was due to being sent away to boarding school when I was eight - music was a big part of the curriculum but also an escape. This is a long time ago before the advent of even the Sony Walkman. I still remember the first time I put on a pair of headphones and heard stereo sound. It blew my mind. Truly a transcendent experience. So I heard and performed quite a lot of choral and classical music, often in spaces with great acoustics. Now i just dial up a plug-in to get the same effect. Every bit of free time I had I would sneak off to the music rooms and mess about on the piano. Eventually forming bands which was frowned upon in those days. I still feel a sense of rebellion going into the studio to make music. I aspire to upset grown-ups to this day.
When people talk about early Spooky now, there's inevitably a historical importance attached to it. An evolving scene/genre, defining albums and remixes that I'm still digging out of old compilations today. How would you best describe this time of your life and your fondest memories?
We were extremely blessed to have been a part of the early wave of house and techno in the UK. Right when the technology became affordable enough to make records at home. It was a diy punk ethic. So many factors came together to create this highly vibrant and creative scene. It was certainly heady and I remember being carried along by the collective energy. We worked hard at it but it wasn't really work. So much talent was concentrated into this small scene which spread all over the world. Looking back it seems dreamlike. Being young meant having the energy and stamina to go the distance too, so 3 day studio sessions with little sleep were completely fine. There was no hard disk recording, no mobile phones and no internet. Yet this futuristic music was everywhere. It was in many ways far simpler than today. At the time I thought it would last forever and in some ways that has turned out to be true. I certainly enjoy making music as much if not more today. Everything changes subtly and then one day you look back and think 'how did that all happen' ? It was a blast for sure. I try not to forget how pure and uplifting those times were, also a bit rough around the edges. Unlike today it felt truly anarchic, there was no one in charge telling you what you could or could not do or say.
You've made a return with Duncan lately, and a new album this year titled Lucent, as well as energy around remix EPs from the likes of Alex Kassian. I think many Charlie May fans will know you have been busy behind the scenes and probably never stopped creating music for many years now, but what spurred this desire lately to put out new releases?
Pure coincidence really - it just happens that way sometimes. Both Duncan and I have been doing our own thing as well as occasional Spooky tracks for years. He has his label 49 North and various collaborative projects. I put out quite a few releases on Bandcamp as well as doing remixes. Writing mainly. I try and write some music every day.
How much do you allow the history of Spooky into the room? Are the old records useful reference points, or are they something you deliberately avoid looking towards?
It's great that as time goes on the early tunes get new leases of life through a younger audience and dj's discovering them or through remixes / re releases. It's important to curate the story and protect what happened when. Other than that we don't dwell on the past. I always want to try something new in the studio - see where it leads. Electronic music is truly boundless and that sense of anything is possible is a reason to continually move onto fresh turf.
One of the things I'm sure took up a bunch of your time was Sasha's Refracted tour. I wanted to first say, the recording of that at the Barbican, and the live video is, to me, a defining moment in electronic music. I was gutted to not see it live, but living vicariously through the recordings is enough to give me goosebumps each time. Reflecting back on this and your key role within it all, how do you feel about it now you've had a few years away from it?
It was quite an experience for all of us - especially for a bunch of studio rats not used to performing live. It was tough going at times but because of the people involved we managed to produce something special I think. I loved the shows and would jump at the chance to do something similar again. When it all comes together and the music finally gets played to an audience there's a welcome sense of completion. But we were blessed to be a great team of people. I think that's the most important ingredient.
Can you tell us a bit about the process of reconstructing dance music for this type of setting? And why you think it worked so well?
We took the approach that there were to be no laptops or computers on stage - so everything had to be played with hardware or real instruments. Which is obviously quite a tough route to take but it paid off in the end. The whole show was painstakingly built from the ground up. It took a while and there were constant changes and adjustments. We had to learn new tricks along the way. When you have someone like Barry Jamieson on board who can solve any technical issue, plus a top tier monitor engineer and stage manager to keep law and order it raises the potential of what the collective can achieve considerably.
"I put hours of effort into trying to be a good producer but in the end the best results are graft accidents."— Charlie May
I would kick myself for not taking this opportunity to ask you for your story on Xpander. Of course, you were instrumental in the development of that EP, but can you tell us in your own words how it came about and the relationship that developed with Sasha after?
It started life as a track in the Spooky live show when we were touring with Megadog. It was more of a breakbeat vibe but we couldn't get it to gel in the studio so it got put on the shelf. Fast forward about 5 years and I met up with Sasha who asked if had anything useful lying around that we might work on. I remembered I had this riff on an old DAT tape and played him that. He got very excited and that enthusiasm breathed new life into it. I think the moral of the story is record everything and don't throw anything away in case someone else has a better idea. After that we just kept working together as we were on the same page. We did Belfunk as a result of messing about with Orbital's Belfast. You can never really tell how things are going to work out.
There's a temptation with a record as revered as Xpander to assume everybody involved knew they were making something important. What did it feel like in the room at the time? Was it painstaking, exciting, ordinary, frustrating?
The whole Xpander process stretched out over a period of time. There were a few attempts at mixing it that I remember. Then there was the Wipeout version. We knew it was strong musically but that's only half the battle. So it was a bit of a rollercoaster. A lot of tracks end up driving you nuts at times. When it was done we knew it was finished. Can't ask for more than that really.
Do you remember the smallest decision on Xpander that ended up making the biggest difference?
Probably the decision not to go to the boozer / curry house for once and actually continue working instead.
Dennis and Dave of Quiet Places were a part of the Refracted tour playing live alongside you. Is it fair to say that was the early seeds of the Quiet Places project, in so far as you working closer together and understanding each other musically?
For sure - we started Quiet Places as a way to decompress from the punishment of the live shows. It was a natural reaction to want to make new music that was very free floating and unrestricted. Hence we decided on two rules : no grid and no beats. I very much enjoy making those albums - the process is therapeutic, except for Dennis who has to clean up everyone's audio mess and make it sound like an actual record.
We know about the formation of Quiet Places and the many whiskey-fuelled jam sessions that spawned those deep trips. I feel like this format of long form albums is really under-appreciated, but for those that get it… they really get it. In today's 'Spotify age' of previews and playlisting, these albums completely buck the trend. What are your thoughts on this approach you've undertaken with Quiet Places? Do you see the act of listening to long form more like a chill-out room experience? Or is it the storytelling aspect, through samples etc?
A record like that can function in different ways - as a backdrop to some other activity or post club winding down. Or it can be music to drift off to. Or taken in its entirety as a story, like a movie.
I have recently trained myself to sit down and listen to albums from beginning to end without pause or distraction. It has to be played on a quality system, then your brain receives every detail and nuance. It's a very different experience that ends up being transcendent and nourishing. We have become accustomed to skimming over the surface of a rich culture and missing out on so much.
A 40 minute album can literally change your life for the better if given the appropriate attention.
Charlie May live at the Barbican for Sasha's Refracted Tour
In the Trusted Farms album notes, we talk about you being great at writing short phrases and riffs that become inseparable from the track around them. And the evidence out in the world is clear that you're brilliant at it. Where does that instinct come from — playing, repetition, sound choice, classical training, experimentation, or simply knowing when you've stumbled onto something?
Making any art is mud slinging, then clearing away what isn't necessary until you like it. Then sling some more mud. I put hours of effort into trying to be a good producer but in the end the best results are graft accidents. I do think those chance events and the chances of them occurring are increased by showing up regularly. Also breaking old habits and getting out of your own way. Having lots of ideas is great but that's a long way from a finished record. I like finishing records but that's also the part I find challenging and have to have a little bit of luck go into the mix. Also I make heaps of crap - masses of it. That doesn't matter. Some of the best results start off as rubbish.
You have said in the album notes that working alone is only possible because of the collaborations you've been involved with. Who taught you something in the studio that permanently changed the way you work?
Everyone I've worked with has taught me something I didn't know. Even people I have worked with for years are still full of surprises. I remember very early on being in the studio with William Orbit and being blown away by his talent and technique. He was the original studio wizard that inspired so many of us when we were starting out doing this stuff. He wasn't in a fancy studio being fluffed up by minions and technical staff. He was doing it all by himself in the front room of his house and it sounded unbelievable. He wasn't afraid to destroy what he'd just created and play it backwards at half speed to see if that worked better.
William was obviously a very sad and big loss this year. Hundreds if not thousands of us are probably revisiting your (Spooky) remix of Water On A Vine Leaf as part of the Northern Exposure reissue in the last few weeks - a reminder of your symbiosis together as label and remixer and a milestone moment. How was he as a label owner? What did he do in those early years to set you up for success?
William was really a silent partner in Guerilla, most of the day to day was covered by Dick O'Dell and Karen Howarth. Although his influence was obviously felt musically in terms of the label output. Many of the releases passed through his Guerilla Studio in Crouch End at some point. His technique in the studio influenced many of the artists on Guerilla at that time. We were pretty much left to do what we wanted - a few singles and then someone suggested doing an album so we kept going. It was all fairly loose. Just a great roster.
Guerilla shared an office with Loud and Clear and Hard Hands and the Darling Department so there was always plenty going on in terms of DJ's, clubs and record promotion.
"Electronic music is truly boundless and that sense of anything is possible is a reason to continually move onto fresh turf."— Charlie May
Some people might call Trusted Farms an ambient album because it's beatless. But it feels to me like unlocking a special treasure trove of melodies and moments from one of electronic music's best producers - vignettes of hidden chapters. What does this album mean to you in the grand scale of your career? What milestone, if any, does it represent?
It's my first album release on vinyl which is cool - I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to get that together ?! I'm not one for self promotion so I end up with stacks of unreleased music and no label. Hopefully I can start compiling and releasing some of this beat-less work now as 40 minute albums.
I know it's like choosing a favorite child, but is there one track from the album that stands out for a specific reason in its production, or meaning?
Not really ! Hopefully the record flows well and makes sense as a whole. I like that some of the tracks started life years ago. Copper Beech is at least ten years old. Also that a track like 'Just Nerves' is played live from beginning to end in one take. I had this great sound going through a guitar amp so hit record and played it. That sort of thing doesn't happen very often.
Can you tell us a bit about what you envisioned for the artwork for this album and what it means to you in its final form from Peter?
With artwork I know what I don't like more than what I like which hopefully means I am open to discovering something new. I didn't want a loud sleeve but rather something to compliment the black vinyl. Apparently there a few loose turquoise vinyl versions out there which is cool. When you showed me Peter's work I immediately knew it was perfect for this record.
In a previous interview you talked about the need to scratch an existential itch and your music representing the edge & bittersweetness of life. Where does Trusted Farms with this ambition?
I really do spout utter rubbish sometimes .. I mean making records is therapeutic so it serves a medicinal purpose. I think the making of and listening to music is so subjective that it can't really be pinned down. It does help make sense of the human condition and provides a common language of sorts to that end. It's not meant to be entirely figured out otherwise where's the fun and the mystery. With Trusted Farms it wasn't really until it was finished that i thought ok now it has a function and purpose. I hope that it makes people feel good afterwards, like a decent meal. Not the grandest but nutritious nonetheless.
And for aspiring producers out there looking to come even somewhere close to what you have achieved over the years, what piece of advice would you offer them?
Stay true to yourself, don't feel you have to fit in anywhere. Play to your strengths even if they seem insignificant at first. There's a magic that comes into play with music making. You just have to keep showing up, especially when it's shit.
~
Charlie May / Trusted Farms is available now.
Listen to Charlie's isolatedmix from 2020.
Without a culture of reverence for our land, is it any wonder that it is ailing? ponders Nick Hayes, in an extract from 'The Medicine Tree', our October Book of the Month.
I had spent most of my summer in the river. I swam for exercise, but also for sheer bodily delight, sliding beside the red veins of the willow roots, writhing around submerged tree trunks like a snake in the mangroves, exploring the secret arbours and coves concealed by the falling cascades of leaves. These little ignored places, where the crayfish dig their nests in the clay, had become my favourite haunts and I would hide my naked body in them when the plastic boats of summer daytrippers rushed by, smeared in silt, wrapped in hornwort, like Jenny Greenteeth, unseen in their wake.
In these secret groves, I would meet coots and kingfishers,electric-blue speckled dragonflies, and, most commonly of all, the river's rubbish. These sheltered coves are an Aladdin's cave of shite, a thieves' horde of detritus snagged and clogged for decades in the bankside roots. I would pull out old butane canisters caked with blue-grey clay; industrial baling wrap; cracked plastic tubs; webs of translucent fishing wire, each with a needle-thin hook trailing somewhere beneath my feet; infinite flimsy, yellowed plastic bottles, whose rust-coloured waters poured out of cracks as I lifted them; and harder, industrial bottles, brittled with age, that spilt what remained of their chemical concoctions back into the river.
Rivers used to be gods. Now they are sewers, run-offs for a catchment of shame that includes much more than sewage and litter: microplastics, pharmaceuticals, factory waste, chemical fertilizers from industrial agriculture, heavy metals from our motorways; it all seeps through the soil, and ends up in our rivers. The lowest point of our landscape, rivers now express the nadir of our culture: they tell a story of a society that has somehow normalized undrinkable, poisoned water. Meanwhile, English society is cracking; in the cities and towns, angry men gather around statues, draped in the Union Jack, burning cars and attacking migration hostels, defending a story of this land that ignores the land itself.
That summer, as I swam, I wondered what mantras, philosophies and cultures existed on this land before the story of England was harvested and bale-wrapped into what we have today. It seemed an act of extreme exceptionalism to suppose that we were the only country on earth not to have had a spiritual, mythopoetic relationship with the land, unmediated by its 'owners'. But if there was such a land culture in England, I knew nothing of it. Why? The Māori were colonized by Britain and by France, by war and by treaty, their culture vandalized by physical and psychological violence wrought by invasive forces. But how had our land culture - our stories, practices, songs, dances and rituals - been taken from us? And without a culture of reverence for our land, is it any wonder that it is ailing? It seemed a complicated, grotesque irony for a country which had systematically destroyed traditional, indigenous cultures across the globe to be in such desperate need of one of our own.
*
Nick Hayes' 'The Medicine Tree: Repairing the Rotten Roots of England' is out now and available here, published by Allen Lane.
From her deep roots in choral music to the "fucking queen" Mariah Carey, Dis Fig takes us through the vast range of influences behind new LP What To Make Of These Mortal Hands, and compile them into a special 20-track playlist available exclusively for tQ Subscriber Plus tier members
Music journalists love to declare the influences that must have gone into a new album, but a lot of the time the artists responsible themselves are left baffled by such comparisons. We thought, why not go straight to the source?
Dis Fig is a performer, producer, and vocalist who has collaborated with The Bug, The Body, and Asian Dope Boys. Her latest record, What To Make Of These Mortal Hands, is out on...
The post Guest Playlist: Dis Fig appeared first on The Quietus.
Matthew Herbert
The UK Has More Food Banks Than Branches Of McDonalds
The British producer (fka Doctor Rockit, Wishmountain) returns to the politics of food with an album that doubles as a direct call to action
theukhasmorefoodbanksthanbranchesofmcdonalds.com by Matthew Herbert
Our relationship to food is the foundation upon which this civilization is built. It's how we engage with the environment, with our bodies, with each other. It nurtures cultures and communities; it is fundamental to survival.
Matthew Herbert has long been interested in the politics of food and the systems that govern its production, distribution and consumption. There is the controversial One PigPlat du Jour (2005), which employed augmented recordings of objects relating to industrial food production; and the lesser known documentary Listen Like A...
The post Matthew Herbert - The UK Has More Food Banks Than Branches Of McDonalds appeared first on The Quietus.
Derek Walmsley asks Stephen Mallinder and Chris Watson some big questions before they hang up their hats for the last time. Main portrait: Paul Heartfield
Stephen Mallinder and Chris Watson are on a video call finding all the different ways to say it's over. "There will be no more Cabaret Voltaire. We're not making new tracks," insists Watson. For Mallinder, "we don't want to be a tribute band. The end's going to stagger a little bit, because we can't stop at every territory within that period, but it will end.
"It's for Richard really," he continues, namechecking the permanently absent third member of their gang. "I don't want to take the piss, it has to be a finite thing."
The Cabs are in...
The post Northern Mantra: Cabaret Voltaire say Goodbye appeared first on The Quietus.
We're excited to introduce Community Cuts, a new monthly all-vinyl DJ series celebrating the record collectors, selectors and music lovers who make up the Inverted Audio
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MIX419 takes shape through the lense of SYREETA's musical selection, touching on everything from deep house and jazz, to downtempo club music and tech house. The UK artist is a regular on line ups for parties like HE.SHE.THEY and ANTS, and has released original music with DIRTYBIRD, Circus Recordings, and Nervous Records in the past. […]
Uruguayan artist Fernando Lagreca drops two brand new techno productions on Paul Render's Spain-based dZb Records, with his two-track 'Falso Motivo' EP. Alongside the EP's title track, he also includes a second original in 'Verdad Oculta', offering a double-sided club package. We premiere 'Falso Motivo' in full, the steadily evolving lead inclusion ignores flash in […]
Happy CD release day to Hannah Peel's Underland - out today on our Rivertones Label!
Adapted from Robert Macfarlane's bestselling book, directed by Robert Petit and scored by Hannah Peel, Underland is a mesmerising cinematic journey into the depths of the earth. Beginning in the shallow soils beneath an old ash tree, 'astronauts of the underworld' travel into ancient sacred caves, flooded storm drains, melting glaciers, underwater burial chambers and a deep underground laboratory built to solve the mysteries of the Universe.
Buy your copy here.
