You might have noticed that Drowned in Sound has been on a reflective pause since 2019.

We've been pondering and perfecting what a fully rejuvenated DiS would look like in the years to come. The good news? We're so (slowly coming) back!

While we're still shaping our grand revival for 2024/25, we're thrilled to add to our much-loved podcast and independent label releases, a brand-new newsletter.

Starting now, expect a weekly dose of DiS in your emails.

There will be a monthly pile of music recommendations in your inbox. Alongside new essays and an internet digest of things to see, read and hear.

The newsletter, available on our revamped site, will feature two free editions per month (including one packed with must-hear music) and two exclusive editions for our valued supporters.

Each month, we'll also showcase a guest essay alongside an extended piece by me - Sean Adams, founder of Drowned in Sound, at your service since October 2000.

Our vision? To commission 50 thought-provoking essays and articles next year, while continuously enhancing our podcast.

Then what? We might even dive into the world of print magazines, as we sense the "vinyl moment" for journals is just around the corner.

Sign up at drownedinsound.org and browse some of our recent bits and bobs.

At the Grammys last night, jazz bassist and singer Esperanza Spalding (double nominee)

showed her support for the Palestinians by donning a kufiya.

Also: poet Aja Monet, up for Best Spoken Word Poetry Album, carried a watermelon clutch.

and...boygenius wore arists4ceasefire pins.

And finally, Annie Lennox gave a shoutout for #ceasefire

October 7 and its aftermath have produced multiple kufiya spottings, and a fair bit of news coverage. I've been too overwhelmed by the events to get on the blog to write about it. I will try to make more of an effort in future, but all I can promise is dribs and drabs. This represents some housekeeping, in fact, a photo that has been on my hard drive for some time but never managed to post.

John Lennon spent some time in Bermuda in 1980. A friend sent me this photo, found on reddit. The description says only this: "new release photo, on deck, Bermuda June 1980." Do we presume then that John was on some yacht, and needed to cover himself from the sun, or protect himself from the wind. And why did he use a kufiya? Kufiyas were starting to become somewhat common street wear in US urban areas by the early eighties, as I've written about elsewhere, so I guess it was simply something he came across in New York City, where he lived. That's all I've got! Check out the photo: 

 My book chapter, "The Kufiya," published in  Asef Bayat and Linda Herrera, Global Middle East: Into the Twenty-First Century, University of California Press, 2021, is now available here, as a pdf.

Note that there is even a kufiya on the cover of the book! (On the shoulders of Edward Said, from a mural.)

 Note too that if you search this blog there is lots of kufiya/kaffiyeh/keffiyeh content.

 My 1992 article, "Seeing Double: Palestinian-American Histories of the Kufiya," published in Michigan Quarterly Review 31(4): 557-577, can now be found here, as a pdf. It also appeared in the Michigan Quarterly Review's 60th anniversary issue--60(1): 341-362 in 2021.

Photo ALEX MASTOON

It’s hard to believe now that loop conductors like Flying Lotus and Four Tet headline festivals and high-cap venues, but the early ’00s was dominated by truly underground tracks within the sprawling hip-hop scene and cutting-edge electronic community. While DJ Shadow and other crate-digging, sample-threading producers broke through to a broader audience on the backs of waning trends like trip-hop and downtempo, difficult-to-pin-down artists like Prefuse 73, Daedelus, and El-P shaped their respective sounds in relative obscurity on such dearly missed imprints as Chocolate Industries, Mush and Definitive Jux.

“Just like skateboarding,” says Zachary Mastoon, “we early beat-makers were a community of weirdos finding ourselves — punks exploring, falling down, scraping our arms and knees — and not too many people gave a shit about it.”

That’s one of the reasons why Mastoon offed his Caural alias in 2009, only to reemerge in recent years with new music for a generation raised on Adult Swim and Low End Theory. Not to mention plenty of social media platforms that cultivate subcultures on the same playing field as pop music.

With his second EP of the year on the way soon (Thank Your Demons, due out September 1 on Caural’s own Prism92 imprint), we asked the Hudson Valley-based producer to share an exclusive mix and look back on his entire career, including his formative years as an jazz musician, Asphodel intern, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles character (no, really)….

Let's start with a little background. What's one of your earliest memories of connecting with music on a deeper level?
My earliest memories of music were forged on monolithic IMF speakers my father had set up in our living room. I would sit and stare at the art on these gatefold jackets of whatever vinyl was spinning on the turntable, and it was in this way that the connection between sound and visuals was first made for me. I utterly fell in love with music as this all encompassing, visceral experience.

Was anyone else in your family involved with music or the arts, or did your parents simply have a killer record collection?
My mom was a painter and grew up playing the piano; we had an out-of-tune Gulbransen in between those speakers that I'd bang on as a kid. It was always a running joke in our family that — despite his taste — my audiophile dad was tone deaf. He had been going to jazz sets in his hometown of Chicago since his teens, and my mom brought all types of rock, classical and opera into the mix, so their vinyl collection was eclectic and amazing. Aside from early MTV, the records I grew up listening to were an enormous inspiration for me.

Was Transmission your first proper music project? How did you first cross paths with Stuart Bogie and the rest of that band?
I grew up across the street from Stuart, and he was my first and best friend before I could really walk or talk. When I was 3, my uncle bought me a drum set to piss off my parents, and I had a Casio PT-80 and acoustic guitar when I turned 6. So, as soon as we were able, Stuart and I would record music together in my basement. We called ourselves The Ultraviolets.

From these early tapes on through junior high, it was just the two of us. We did a concert in Joshua "Kit" Clayton's basement when I was in eighth grade as Stuart and His Neighbor, but Stuart soon met Andrew Kitchen (our drummer) in marching band, who then recruited his friend Eric Perney to quickly learn and play bass.

Transmission (which my mother named as a joke) became a more formal incarnation of our joint musical trajectory.

You guys were skateboard buddies too, right? Can you talk a little bit about how it was a major bridge to discovering everything from punk to hip-hop in the pre-Spotify days?
As kids in the suburbs — especially in the early ’80s — we had no real exposure to hip-hop outside of movies like Beat Street and Breakin', but skateboarding had small reflections of its spirit; there was movement, visuals (the graphics on the boards, and the imagery in magazines like Thrasher and Transworld), fashion, and a like-minded community exploring an art form.

I knew skaters who liked punk, rap and metal, and I knew skaters who listened to new wave and house. Ultimately, skate culture was less a gateway to certain genres than it was to a sense of belonging. It told us it was okay to be different, and it instilled a fearlessness that informed our lives as artists. After all, you can't really be afraid to fuck yourself up if you are going to do it right.

Was there any skate video in particular that exposed you to a ton of rad music?
Honestly, it's funny. I remember watching Bones Brigade (I was 7 years old), but I don't remember any music.

I do remember Thrashin' having a Circle Jerks song and an awkward performance by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, but I wasn't running out to go buy those tapes quite yet.

Did you originally think you were going to be an experimental / jazz musician rather than a solo producer?
When I was really young, I was kinda just hoping to be a guitarist in a rock band. I guess the desire to be a producer sprung from wanting more out of live performance, but the fact is that collaboration always leads to something greater than I could ever dream up myself, especially in jazz and improvisational music.

What was your major at Wesleyan? Studying under Anthony Braxton must have been eye-opening to say the least….
I studied jazz guitar at Wesleyan, but left for NYU about a month into my second semester. Anthony Braxton was beyond influential. His “Materials of Jazz Improvisation” class was crucial for me as an artist, but it was less about his music than his imaginative notation and philosophy.

He was my faculty advisor, and I remember telling him the courses I was planning to take in addition to solo guitar and gamelan orchestra: astronomy, Buddhism, and a class on African-American literature. He looked at me dead in the eyes, laughed, and said, “Wonderful, it’s all music!”

You interned at Asphodel in the late '90s — right around the time they were working with everyone from Diamanda Galas to DJ Spooky. What did you take away from that experience on both a creative and professional level? Did it make you want to double down on your own work?
In 1997, I found We’s As Is album at a record store, and it absolutely blew me away; it still does. The fact that the folks at Asphodel saw my gushing email and invited me on board absolutely changed my life. Creatively, working there opened me to the idea of dismissing genre altogether while still maintaining a cohesive sound and approach.

Professionally, I was meeting artists, DJs, and just hearing so much music I wouldn’t have heard otherwise. It was truly another extension of my education, and drove me to start "square-pushing" myself.

Was one of the things you liked about sampling / producing music that it gave you the freedom to be a one-man band in a way?
Oh absolutely. In junior high, I fell in love with the music of My Dad Is Dead, and actually sent him a typewritten letter. At the time, he was doing everything himself, and I asked him how; he actually responded to me! This was in the late ’80s, when my little sampler didn’t yet exist and making records alone was far more expensive and complicated, but his album The Taller You Are, The Shorter You Get showed me it was possible, and I couldn’t wait…

My earliest memory of discovering your music was reading a Turntable Lab recommendation for Stars On My Ceiling in 2002. I feel like that was a very special time — a turning point for turntablism, underground hip-hop, and instrumental beats. In a lot of ways, labels like Chocolate Industries and Mush set the stage for everything from Alpha Pup to Brainfeeder to the club night that brought it all together: Low End Theory. I know this is a complicated, loaded question, but what's your perspective on that time period and how things evolved between your early albums and Mirrors For Eyes, your last proper Caural LP?
I truly agree that time was special, and it’s more than just my own nostalgia and gratitude for having been a part of it.

When I started using the Yamaha SU700 in 1999, I admit I was being experimental for experimentation’s sake. Listening back now to my first record on Toshoklabs — yeah, it was fucking weird. But I think the more I explored, the more I was able to find my own voice. We all did, and it’s magical that it happened: people using machines to take music apart and rebuild it again had such wildly different results, and spawned so many directions in music.

Being on a label like Chocolate Industries where Prefuse 73 would remix my material, or my name would be next to Souls of Mischeif, Tortoise, El-P or Mos Def? As someone just starting out, I felt I had already made it. And the connection with the Los Angeles scene was immediate for me as well. I was in touch with Teebs on MySpace early on, and Ras G would come to my first shows out there and stand right in front.

Spinning records at Sketchbook (a precursor to Low End Theory) also changed what I wanted to hear, and took my music to a new place. Take (now Sweatson Klank) brought the night to NYC, and he and I would take turns playing the weirdest bangers we could find to sometimes empty rooms. This was not yet popular music!

So, from album to album, there was a natural evolution for me in tandem with the scene itself. I don’t think Mirrors For Eyes is my favorite or even best album, but I can map out how and why I got there.

Why did you decide to largely step away from Caural in 2009? Did it feel like that kind of music had hit its peak on some levels, as new generations began to discover artists through MP3 blogs rather than magazines?
A lot of things were happening simultaneously to be honest. As the sound grew in popularity, the proliferation of new tools to make it — along with the internet to spread it — oversaturated everything. To me, the "beat scene" absolutely peaked and imploded, and everyone started sounding the same.

Personally, I was also feeling limited by the very tool that once gave me so much freedom. With the single exception of "Sorry, Underground Hip-Hop Happened Ten Years Ago," I was a stubborn dinosaur who rejected the idea of using a computer to continue on. As someone who grew up playing guitar and drums, I needed an instrument to be tactile and real, not colorful, impersonal blocks on a screen.

I was performing on my sampler live along with another Chicago producer named K-Kruz (this material was later compiled as Handmade Evil) but, when it was eventually stolen from my apartment, I was just like, fuck it.

Was Handmade Evila reaction to the digital turn beat-driven music has taken in recent years — a way to show you can make killer tracks with nothing but a Yamaha SU700 and an MPC?
As a perk for a Boy King Islands Kickstarter, I compiled lost demos and alternate takes of songs for our supporters; this collection was released a few years later by Youngbloods as Pastels. Anyway, digging through sketches on my hard drive inspired me to do the same for Caural, but the music that truly stuck out for a coherent release was the last live recordings before things were brought to a close in 2009.

Maybe it was an unintentional fuck you to what I thought I was leaving behind forever, but instead it became a record of a time I'd look back on fondly.

One artist who showed how big this kind of music could be was DJ Shadow. He actually dropped his last record in the style of Endtroducing… (The Private Press) the same year as Stars on My Ceiling. Looking back now, does it feel like heady, sample-driven beats hit a peak around that time in terms of its potential and audience?
Yes and no. I remember Endtroducing… first coming out, and it was wonderful. A lot of those early Mo’ Wax and Ninja Tune records had a clear route from hip-hop instrumentals, but with added freedom to stretch out since they were made without an MC in mind.

The more we got away from loops and appropriating larger motifs from others, the more expansive our possibilities became, but we needed that time to get where we are now.

Before we get into your other projects, I've gotta ask: How did you end up landing a voiceover gig for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Are you psyched about the new movie from a nostalgic standpoint since it appears that Seth Rogen grew up with those characters as well?
Haha, oh man. I had done a lot of acting growing up, and when I told my dad I wanted to major in acting at NYU, he said, "What are you going to minor in — 'Do you want fries with that?'" So, those dreams were dashed for a time.

When I moved back to Brooklyn, a friend of a friend was doing work in cartoons and gave me tips on how to make a demo. I landed a pilot at 4Kids Entertainment that went nowhere, but when I was recording my lines, one of the producers approached me to read for another character on another show. And so I became Dr. Chaplin on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

To be honest, my sister was more a fan of the half-shelled heroes than I was, but props to Seth Rogen for giving it another life in theaters!

Did you launch Prism92 in 2013 to give yourself more creative freedom and a platform for projects outside Caural?
Prism92 became the de facto imprint for really anything I was doing and releasing myself. Prism was an art gallery where I grew up in Evanston that doubled as an all ages venue for high school bands like mine. It was where we all cut our teeth and sold our tapes, and it was a fertile ground for dreaming. It shut down at the end of 1991, and so in naming my little label Prism92, I meant to symbolize the next phase of those dreams, however they took shape.

Speaking of, what's the story with Original Ultraviolets? Was it the main collaborative outlet for you and Stuart between the '80s and early '00s?
So The Ultraviolets was our duo beginning when I was 6, and we had a handful of recordings scattered across cassettes mostly lost or taped over by Bogie's brother. I also accidentally taped over an entire catalog of our material thanks to auto reverse on a friend's tape deck….

Anyhow, Transmission enveloped us in high school and continued without me in Ann Arbor and San Francisco with Colin Stetson, but Stuart and I would always mess around with different ideas, including his short-lived Egyptian Brain Surgery project. When I moved back to Brooklyn in 2003, Stuart opened his Williamsburg apartment to me while he was on tour with Antibalas. When he'd drop back in town, we'd press record on new material for fun on a Tascam 8 track, with vocals in the bathroom and any instruments set-up in our cramped railroad living room.

Through Google, we found there was another band called The Ultraviolets, but we were named 20 years before! Thus, The Original Ultraviolets. For its release, I did final mixes years later from the original reel-to-reels, and scoured unmarked cassettes in the Bogie family's basement for our childhood's surviving music.

Boy King Islands has a similar back story right — a duo (with Jason Hunt, in this case) with roots that reach back into the '90s?
I met Jason in 1991 when he was playing in a different band on the same bill as Transmission. He and his bandmates joined us on horns for our first recording and a handful of shows, but they were really doing their own rock thing. When Transmission left me behind for college – and Jason and his pals kicked out their singer Billy Melody – I stepped in, and we largely did a live hip-hop thing inspired by The Roots.

Years later – after becoming Diverse's backing band and recording an album that was thankfully shelved – I was living with Jason in Evanston. This was now 2002. Numero Group's co-founder Rob Sevier was running a small label called Wobblyhead, and approached me about doing a My Bloody Valentine cover for a seven inch series he was putting together. Well, I enlisted Jason on some additional guitar, and that song – “The Girl With The Stained Glass Eyes” – became the first Boy King Islands song.

What made you want to start working on Caural material again?
Honestly I can thank my wife Alex. In many ways, she turned me back into myself.

How did you and Alex meet? When did you start discussing the ideas that would become Word is Bond?
Our story is crazy — you ready? So, I was Busdriver's touring DJ for a couple of years and, as was customary at the time, I was his top MySpace friend. Well, Alex's brother told her to check him out cause we were soon gonna play Miami with Deerhoof and Harlem Shakes. In doing so, she saw my photo, and added me. This was late 2006.

The venue for the performance changed and we never met, but years later, I saw her on a little MySpace status feed and reached out. This began a digital courtship that turned into a long-distance relationship, a couple breakups, and a magical marriage.

We began collaborating on videos a couple years in, but Word Is Bond was entirely her baby. I stepped in to help with the screenplay, ghost-write raps, produce, cast and compose.

Is homophobia something you witnessed firsthand throughout your years as a producer, and a big reason why you felt the need to help tell that story?
As a heterosexual cis male growing up in the ’80s, homophobia was nothing but normalized. The "f" word was casually tossed around in movies; people played a game called "smear the queer" in elementary school; I knew absolutely no one until college who came out; and frankly I had never been exposed to anything outside of my standard vanilla crushes on girls.

As I grew up, luckily my eyes opened wider, and suddenly I was like, “Woah, none of this is cool.” Whether it was on the screen, on the radio, or in person, the utter machismo "no homo" bullshit became such an ignorant and unfunny joke, and now the veil has been removed on so much more of the hatred driving us apart.

Alex's brother and many of her friends are in the LGBTQ+ community and, as her partner, I was happy to support both her vision in bringing their stories to life, and strengthening my own empathy as an ally.

Did working on Word is Bond — seeing how well Alex’s visual language melded with your music — lead to your work on "Us in Octaves"?
A: Alex and I do nearly everything together. We used to butt heads a little more when we met thirteen years ago, but now we may as well share a brain. So, when she had an idea for another music video for me, it was an immediate yes.

What's the back story behind “Us in Octaves”, the two-part music video you’re unveiling soon?
When we left Los Angeles in 2019, we were working full-time in film in the Hudson Valley. I finally had time to return to music late that fall, and “Ceremony” was the first song I finished. We met a dancer at a screening of Word Is Bond in Harlem, and he and his friend were the original two man cast set to shoot in March of 2020. We all know what happened then.

Two years later, when we escaped upstate New York and were ready to revisit the idea, everything changed. She and I brought on a fantastic DP named Jaan Utno who worked with us as a gaffer on Word Is Bond and, in the casting process, she found muses in Madison Wada and Robyn Ayers.

Our shot list was enormous, and it was the most art department-heavy project we did together. So when she started editing, it naturally became a two-part story: there was just too much to say.

Are you planning on doing a full movie together at some point?
I am already helping her develop a feature script…. Stay tuned!

Dakou sounds like a natural progression of your work as Caural and a live musician. Did it feel like dipping your toes back into a world you sorely missed, making another EP (Thank Your Demons) come together even more naturally?
Thank you! Dakou, Thank Your Demons, and material I am working on now for a full length next year all feel like I have picked up where I left off, but as a fuller and changed person. All along, I had been relegating styles and even instruments to different projects and aliases. Maybe because I feared they wouldn't fit together?

Whatever the case, in returning to music — honestly through Alex kindly forcing me to soundtrack Word Is Bond — I realized that my sound is less a style to put in a box than it is me using everything I have to articulate whatever comes through me.

You also released a digital version of your remix compilation last month. Does that feel like the final word on a very specific period of your solo career?
Oh yes! Remix Tape — also released as a limited cassette — compiles almost all of the remixes I made between 2003 and 2008. I left off an embarrassing one unknowingly done at the wrong speed for Miho Hatori, but most everything else that wasn't already stolen for another one of my releases made the cut.

A lot of energy went into these works and often pulled me away from my own material, so in hindsight this collection feels like a lost album.

What can we expect from you next? Is another solo album on the way at some point, or are you more interested in pursuing a film composer path right now?
A little bit of both to be honest. Life has constantly pulled me in different directions, and I have always gone towards what feels best. I am finishing a sound mix on a short documentary right now, and am eager to get back to work on my next album. I will say that I've become a lot more intimately involved with the art around my music lately, so I aim to continue more of a multi-disciplinary approach to any and all of this.

Let's say someone has never heard your music before. What are five tracks that best represent the range of your work as both a solo and collaborative artist, and why?

1. Caural, “Sorry, Underground Hip Hop Happened Ten Years Ago”
This exercise in OCD levels of organization and collage got me invited to a speaking engagement at Princeton (woo!), and was the craziest shit I have ever done. Like, ever. I took well over 400 samples of the word "yo" from across my rap albums, and spent a couple of months painstakingly building each Frankenstein measure of the song. All of my music as Caural involves intense sound editing, organization, and collage, but this piece is really a broken magnifying glass held to my process.

2. Caural, “Transition Suite Part 2: Papillon”
A tune I made with the dueling saxophones of Stuart Bogie and Colin Stetson for Mirrors For Eyes. I've always loved the way this turned out. It feels live, and was also one of the few times I used my own electric guitar on a Caural track.

3. Boy King Islands, “I Talk To The Wind”
I worked at a second record label in the early 2000s: Coup D'Etat (J-Live, Paul Barman, Rasco, etc.). My then boss, Howard Wulkan, asked me to watch his cat Pokey in his Manhattan duplex one weekend. He had a studio in the basement, and I cranked out the vocals, guitars and bass for this tune in a day; I recorded the drums back in Chicago, and Jason's wife Beth played the almost imperceptible Rhodes. It's one of my favorite (mostly) solo things I've done in the rock realm, and I'm embarrassed to admit that – until hearing King Crimson's original – I thought that Opus 3 wrote this song.

4. Caural, “Clear Vinyl”
Still one of my most streamed songs 20 years later, likely because of its inclusion in a skate video backing the street skate pioneer Rodney Mullen. I loved making this rock song out of almost entirely shoegaze samples. It snaps, if I do say so myself.

5. Caural, “Enneagram”
I still love drum & bass. When I was touring with Busdriver, I played a version of his song "Wormholes" in double-time with the famous Amen break (if you don't know it, it's basically the electric guitar to the rock music of jungle). Enneagram – a completely live, improvised drum & bass tune in this spirit – stands out for me as an example of the hardware sampler as a live instrument.

Finally, tell us about the “Holograms” mix you made for us. In a lot of ways, it feels like a reflection of everything we just discussed — a full-circle journey of someone who's been greatly impacted by music on a personal and creative level for decades….
In curating “Holograms” — almost all imaginary collaborations meant in some cases to be slightly absurd — I joined together main themes from my so-far two releases this year. The first — from the spirit of Dakou ("cut out") — was to highlight inspirations of mine: crate-dug gems I wanted to place within a framework of hip-hop. I have found there are such through lines connecting grooves across genres, and for someone to stumble across mangled cassettes with no context of their history or culture — as was the case in China that spawned the title Dakou — music presents itself as itself, leaving the listener to draw their own connections.

The second theme came from Remix Tape, and from that time in my musical life. Some of these tracks were on constant rotation in my early DJ sets, while others were ideas never brought to fruition — either by me, or in some cases by colleagues of mine. But in layering them with acapellas, I also wanted to give a nod to the mashup: an enormous fad of the time which was fun and endearing while simultaneously just kinda horrible. But in a positive light, I think of remixes themselves as holograms: the meshing of waves (in this case, sound) creating a version of the object impossible without the other.

Music is math, isn't it?

1. We – Flutesque – Incursions In Illbient (Asphodel)
1. 1991 – High-End – High Tech High Life (Opal Tapes)
1. (Christian Ministry Truck Stop Tape Intro)
1. Miles Davis – Gingerbread Boy – Miles Smiles (Columbia)
1/2. Aaliyah – Rock The Boat (Acapella) – Aaliyah (Blackground Records)
2. GB – The Roman numeral 3 – Absence of Color Phase I & II (Sound In Color)
3. Dimlite – Last Repetitions Piece/Lorraine For The World – Cookie & Brownie EP 3 (Astrolab)
3. Beastie Boys – Body Movin' (Acapella) – Hello Nasty (Capitol)
3. (Excerpt from Dirty Thoughts – Documentary)
4. Slum Village – Look of Love – Fantastic Vol. 1 (Counterflow)
5. Dabrye – Hyped Up Plus Tax (Outputmessage Remix) – Payback (Ghostly)
6. Painted Cakes – Moving On – Painted Cakes (Self-Released)
7. Push Button Objects – 360 Degrees (Beatapella) – 360 Degrees Remixes (Chocolate Industries)
7. Clipse – Wamp Wamp (What It Do) (Acapella) – Wamp Wamp (What It Do) (Star Trak Entertainment)
7. Herbie Hancock – Sleeping Giant – Crossings (Warner Bros)
8. Ammoncontact – Let The Rhythm Mysticism – Dublab Presents: In The Loop 3 (Plug Research)
8. Ford & Lopatin featuring Tamaryn – Flying Dream (Acapella) – Snakes/Flying Dream (Mexican Summer)
9. Ramsey Lewis – My Love For You – Funky Serenity (Columbia)
9. Opus 3 – It's A Fine Day (Acapella) – It's A Fine Day (PWL International)
10. Kutmah – Warm Like The Sunshine – Warm Like The Sunshine (Poo-Bah Records)
11. Knxwledge – thedaysbefore – Buttrskotch (Leaving Records)
11. Stevie Wonder – Tuesday Heartbreak – Talking Book (Motown)
12. Danny Breaks – The Jellyfish – Another Dimension (Alphabet Zoo)
12. Missy Elliot – Get Ur Freak On (Acapella) – Get Ur Freak On (Elekrtra)
13. Collin Walcott – Prancing – Cloud Dance (ECM)
13. Nas – It Aint' Hard To Tell (Acapella) – It Ain't Hard To Tell (Columbia)
13. Kraftwerk – The Robots – Man Machine (Capitol)
14. Sea Level – Midnight Pass – Cats On The Coast (Capricorn Records)
14. Quincy Jones – Midnight Soul Patrol – I Heard That!! (A&M Records)
15. Diverse featuring Lyrics Born – Explosive (Caural Remix – Instrumental Version) – Remix Tape (2003 – 2008) (Prism92)
15. Mobb Deep – Shook Ones Pt. 2 (Acapella) – Shook Ones Pt. 2 (Loud Records)
16. (Excerpt from Busdriver live at Irving Plaza – unreleased)
16. John Klemmer – Poem Painter – Barefoot Ballet (ABC Records)
17. Caural – One Day It'll All Make Cents (unreleased)
18. Jean Luc-Ponty – Imaginary Voyage Part IV – Imaginary Voyage (Atlantic Records)
19. K-Kruz – Slip Away – Time EP (Organik Recordings)
19. Mos Def – Mathematics (Acapella) – Ms. Fat Booty / Mathematics (Rawkus Records)
20. Sweatson Klank – Not The Same – Collage Dropout (Self-Released)
21. Jeff Beck – The Golden Road – There And Back (Sony)

Watch it here.

 This is courtesy the FaceBook page (which I hope you can access) of the Archives Numérique du Cinéma Algérien, who say about it:

Then we dispersed, Otis ended up in London, eventually started his own band, and was such a prodigious talent that he was voted 'Best UK Blues Guitarist' seven years running (1990-1996) by the British Blues Connection magazine. (After 7 years, his name was retired.) He issued lots of recordings, they are easy to track down. I'll have more to say about Otis in future.

This is an amazing song (found on Nash's 1973 album, Wild Tales) that I only just learned about, thanks to a brilliant book I recently finished, We Gotta Get Out of This Place: The Soundtrack of the Vietnam War, by Doug Bradley & Craig Werner. Graham Nash actually attended the Winter Soldier Investigation organized by the Vietnam Veterans against the War (VVAW) in Jan-Feb 1971, where he witnessed this testimony from Scott Camil: "I was a sergeant attached to Charley 1/1...My testimony involves burning of villages with civilians in them, the cutting off of ears, cutting off of heads, torturing of prisoners, calling of artillery on villages for games, corpsmen killing wounded prisoners, napalm dropped on villages, women being raped, women and children being massacred." 

 If you've not seen the Winter Soldier movie, you must, it is essential. Check it out here.

When Theo Parrish sat down to curate and sequence his contribution to !K7’s iconic DJ-Kicks series, he treated its 19 tracks as a fully invested survey of the city that’s as much a part of him as music itself.

“Detroit creates, but rarely imitates,” Parrish says in his track notes, “Why? We hear and see many from other places do that with what we originate. No need to follow. Get it straight.

He continues, “In the Great Lakes there's always more under the surface — more than what appears to penetrate the top layer of attention and recognition. What about those that defy tradition? Those that sidestep the inaccurate definitions often given from outside positions? This is that evidence. Enjoy.”

To help put his sprawling 90-minute set in perspective, here is a 15-minute film that shares the stories behind a few of its exclusive songs……

Soundtrack of Our Lives is a recurring feature where we ask our favorite artists to process their past via their favorite records. On deck this week: FaltyDL, the elusive producer who just released a doozy of a record (A Nurse to My Patience) that’s been described as his “biggest departure yet”….

I immersed myself in a few artists while recording this album. Talking Heads, The Cure, Brad Laner, Muzz…. To be honest I listened to folks who ended up featuring on my album. I also wrote Stay Close to Music (Transgressive, 2022) for Mykki [Blanco] simultaneously, so that may be the closest thing emotionally to my album for me.

Over the years, one thing has become apparent: I have zero idea when my muse will show up. The best I can do is listen to a lot of music and hope to get inspired.

Headless Heroes of the Apocalypse (Atlantic, 1971) by Gene McDaniels. I bought this album first on CD at Cutlers Music in downtown New Haven, where I am from. They didn't have any ‘listening stations’, so it was a purchase purely because of the cover and the name. I knew this album had a power to it just by looking at it.

I later came to find out its status as a holy grail of samples for hip-hop. You will just put a track on and go, ‘That's from this song?!’ And Gene's attitude toward sampling was elevated. He loved being sampled and repurposed. Very rare for his generation.

Frank Zappa’s Freak Out! (Verve, 1966). I don't think I understood the record or even liked it very much, but it sure impressed my dad. When my dad, a psychiatrist, would put on a record and look so passionately astounded by the music, it was pretty clear how much he respected musicians. If I could become a professional musician he might just be that proud of me.

Of course he would have liked whatever I did, but it was fuel for years. He wanted to be a movie critic and write poetry, but took the 'easy' route by becoming a doctor. What? I fully understand how difficult it is to be a full-time musician and TBH, it's probably harder than going to school for a number of years.

Endtroducing (Mo’ Wax, 1996). I couldn't understand the drums on this album as a kid. I had no concept of chopping up breaks. I thought DJ Shadow was just an incredible drummer! I had to figure out what he was doing. I opened for him years later and handed him a thumb drive of tunes. Was very full circle.

Amen Andrews vs Spac Hand Luke (Rephlex, 2006). I've bought four copies of this record and gifted three. I told Luke [Vibert] how much I liked it and he gave me all this unreleased Amen Andrews, some of which I ended up releasing on my label Blueberry Records!

I don't know what gifting an album looks like in 2022. No one I know plays records anymore. Maybe I just make a friend a playlist?

There are so many, but my head will explode if I allow myself to get that competitive. I have to realize that no one can do what anyone else does quite the same. And there is no correct way to do something and no right or wrong either. Work on a tune for 10 years or 10 minutes; it's still a unique object with loads of meaning. Plus version one always has the best energy!

Listening back to Silver Jews makes me cry. With the hindsight of knowing what David Berman was going through, it’s just so sad. Their music sounds like a pure transfer of energy. Most of his lyrics are just him dissing himself. It's kind of wild.

I hope to be that transparent with my songwriting at some point, but keep it together mentally and stay healthy. There has to be a connection there.

Squarepusher’s Go Plastic (Warp, 2001) coincided with a new stereo in my childhood room. It broke my parents’ brains. Over and over again that record shared my house.

While recording my album, and basically through the entire first year of the pandemic, I didn't stop listening to the debut album by a band called Muzz. I had collaborated with the singer Paul Banks on a track for my album, and he had just released this new project. It hit a chord in me I hadn't tickled in years. No one was going to clubs really so it fit perfectly in my morning routine in the studio. Light shining in, hot coffee, and this album got me through many months.

There are two or three lyrics on that album which send me into my feelings pretty hard. "Don't call me stupid." "Picking up work in the city." I dunno; it just really made me feel understood in some way? I think that's the best thing music can do. Just make you feel seen.

Did you miss us?

Back in 2019, Drowned in Sound hit pause and archived this site.

In the meantime, our community has remained active here here.

But we've made a return, that's a little different than before.

You can keep up to date with what we're doing by signing up to our free Substack newsletter.

We're calling a the new era of Drowned in Sound an "audio publication" because it's a magazine-style podcast, with a singles club on our independent label, which acts a bit like a magazine cover mount.

Our podcast was originally launched back in 2005 and won a few awards, so it's really exciting to finally reboot it. You'll find season one of the podcast wherever you get your podcasts (Spotify | Apple | Etc.), looking at the foundations and future of the music industry, speaking to a range of experts.

Our singles club previously launched the careers of a range of artists including Bat for Lashes, Kaiser Chiefs, Emmy the Great, Martha Wainwright and more.

The 2023 edition of the club kicked off with Faith Vern from DiS-favourites PINS, under the guise of The Faux Faux, with the menacing, smokey, 'Cold Hearted Woman'.

Very honored to have been asked to contribute to this great volume, to be published, inshallah, in October. Look for it! My chapter is entitled: "Rai, World Music, and Islam." More details here.

The order for this event was: Credence, The Dead, Iron Butterfly, Sly and Steppenwolf. My memory is that Sly put on the most exciting show. I think for me the attractions were The Dead and Steppenwolf ('Born to Be Wild' was a great hit of summer '68). The Dead were not playing in there proper element, and of course their set was way shorter than the usual. (Alas, this was the only time I ever saw the Dead, or any of the others for that matter.) Iron Butterfly of course we all scorned and thought were way overblown. I guess Steppenwolf was good but I have no memory of them. Nor of Creedence, who were known at the time chiefly for their single, "Suzie Q." They may have played "Proud Mary," which was released shortly after the concert.

Here's a review of the concert, from the Wilmington Delaware Morning News, on Dec. 9. There is much to comment on about the review, but let's just say that where I agree with it is (1) The Dead were not impressive (2) the sound was shitty and (3) Sly & Co. were terrific.

The effect of the Aswan Dam on Nubians, one elderly Nubian told me in the late 90s: "Have you heard of the atom bomb dropped on Hiroshima? The Aswan Dam was our Hiroshima bomb."

 The last video shown yesterday (June 13) at the House January 6 hearings featured several insurrectionists explaining that they were present at the Capitol that day because Trump had called them to it. I think this is the last of the insurrectionists interviewed. I noticed that he was wearing a kufiya, but didn't manage to get my camera out in time to take a picture. Luckily my very alert friend Tim did, and he sent this photo to me.

 I've written rather extensively about the push by the Palestinian rebels to impose kufiyas on Palestinian males at the height of the 1936-39 revolt, in fall 1938. And I just came across another story about those events, courtesy Zeina Ghandour's A Discourse on Domination in Mandate Palestine: Imperialism, Property and Insurgency (Routledge 2010). This is from her interview with Said Hassan Me'ary, originally from the village of Sha'b, in the Acre district, found on page 113.

I very much like this photo of a Nubian (I presume) kid looking at the photo welcoming USSR Premier Nikita Krushchev on his May, 1964 visit to Egypt. (I apologize for not keeping a record of where I grabbed this from.) I visited Aswan with my family that same year, in November. Here's a photo.

As is often the case, someone sent this to me (thanks, can't remember who did!), and it took some time for me to get around to posting.

 In Berlin the popo are keeping a close watch on kufiya wearers. 

The kufiya, they seem to have determined, is a sign of anti-Semitism.

(posted May 20, 2022)

If you head over to our new Substack newsletter, you can read much more about these records, see a longer list, and keep in touch with DiS by subscribing - as from January I'm sending out weekly album recommendations.

There was no poll involved in creating this list. It's just my personal favourite, the ones that cut the deepest.

As the lone voice of the site nowadays, these were the records that were stuck on repeat on our ghost-ship... and I hope you find a new favourite from these (as that's the only point of listing season, right?!)

21) Jehnny Beth - To Love Is To Live
20) Angel Olsen - Whole New Mess
19) Princess Nokia - Everything is Beautiful
18) Nine Inch Nails - Ghosts V: Together & Ghosts VI: Locusts
17) Kate NV - Room for The Moon
16) Polly Scattergood - In This Moment
15) The Big Moon - Walking Like We Do
14) Sarah Davachi - Cantus, Descant
13) Daniel Avery & Alessandro Cortini - Illusion of Time
12) Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters
11) Juanita Stein - Snapshot
10) Moses Sumney - græ
9) Perfume Genius - Set Fire To My Heart Immediately
8) Julianna Barwick - Healing Is A Miracle
7) Mary Lattimore - Silver Ladders
6) Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher
5) Agnes Obel - Myopia
4) I Break Horses - Warnings
3) Laura Marling - Song For Our Daughter
2) Hayley Williams - Petals for Armor
1) G⬛⬛ M⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛  - ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

Don't call it a comeback... actually, do!

This is Sean Adams, the founder of Drowned in Sound.

Firstly, I'm sorry for the radio silence on this site for the last 18 months or so. I wrote a goodbye message a few times but didn't have the heart to publish it. It felt too final to say farewell.

As you may have seen on our social channels or in the media (even Billboard reported on our demise!), we decided to "pause" publishing due to what you could call financial constraints. Or to put it another way... our advertising revenue went from being an inhabitable house on a hillside to the entire cliff crumbling into the sea, hitting every rock on its way in... the camera slowly zoomed in as the debris was ravaged by the waves... and the director lingered on the shot for far longer than was necessary.

However, just before the end credits started rolling, we shared news that we managed to keep our "infamous" forums going.

I just wanted to offer a MASSIVE heart-felt thank you (THANK YOU!) to everyone who made a donation and continues to help keep the lights on and our community alive. It costs $600 a month due to the continued popularity of this free service, and every £1 you can spare makes a huge different. Learn more about how you can help with a regular or one-off contributoion, here.

Anyway...

Drowned in Sound turns 20 on October 1st, so to mark the occasion and to keep the flame of the site alive, I'm starting a newsletter. Or rather, going back to DiS' roots, as before the site started, it was my personal newsletter under the guise of The Last Resort, featuring my incoherent teenage ramblings about Muse's first demo and stuff like that.

In this new newsletter, you can expect a mixture of my personal recommendations and hopefully cogent and coherent reflections on the last 20 years of music, alongside some gems from our archive, playlists, and recommend reads around the web. It's also quite likely I'll fail to resist sharing cat photos and existential memes...

Plus I'll likely drop in some bits about the class of 2021 too. I've posted a few reminders of DiS' past over on https://drownedinsound.substack.com, which will soon become easy to find on our homepage.

Without further ado... you can subscribe for free here:

To ensure it stays celebratory and doesn't get too self-indulgent, I've also decided to set up a slightly more personal newsletter in parallel, which ties in with the current Unhappy Hour strand of the monthly DiS radio show mixing together the two best flavours of music: melancholy and mellow. If that sad cocktail sounds of interest, here's the first edition about mittens, mezcal, and Lykke Li.

That's fair enough. Who needs another email in their inbox?! All of the posts will be available online and promoted on our social channels.

If you're not already, you can follow us/me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

More news soon...

Bye for now,
Sean xo

DiS founder launches new Unhappy Hour newsletter & playlist series to go with the monthly Drowned in Sound radio show (more info below).

Here's the first edition to give you a taste of what's to come.

Sometimes I like to walk in the rain.

Headphones are a must for me on any walk (sorry, nature!) and from a lot of research, I can confirm that there's nothing more perfect than Lykke Li on a drizzly day. Pick any of her four albums on a day where it's less like tears are falling from heaven and closer to that feeling of walking through a dragon's breath. It. Is. Perfection.

If you're so inclined, you may feel at one with the cloud when 'Sadness is a Blessing' makes its final descent. It's one of those snow globe crescendos that swirls but also feels motionless amid a flood of emotion. Still, like a changing tide.

On 'Sadness... ' Motown rimshots snap beneath the lines "sorrow, the only lover I've ever known..." which hangs in the air, holding out its hand for the follow up "sorrow the only lover I can call my own..." Its mitten strings untangle as Lykke slowly pirouettes into "sadness is my boyfriend, oh sadness I'm your girl." It's such a killer line. I'd assume I'll one day meet someone who has it as a tattoo - if I haven't already!

If you're reading this and have never heard this song or haven't let its fug sprawl around you for a while, I don't mind if you feel compelled to run off and listen to it right away.

I've also made it track one on the playlist that will accompany these Unhappy Hour missives: subscribe here.

Still with me? I won't go on for much longer, promise... Let's get back to walking in a misty wood with sad piano laments overpowering the mulch underfoot... Whilst Lykke may have tried to fool us by opening her most recent album with with an all-lowercase string-nest entitled 'hard rain', there's just something about her music that feels more omnidirectional than that. Hard and heavy and oppressive her music is not. It's such more pervasive and powerful than that.

Perhaps it's the way her voice plumes around the microphone. Her gasps often left in the final edits. Gusts of humanity. Sighs in various stages of ecstasy and exasperation. It's perhaps in the textures created in the space between her exhalations and the microphone where Lykke Li's magic illuminates. It's that filled void that a listener shares in headphones and it feels intensely intimate, even though there's a distant cool gloom to everything Lykke does.

Many say that photography is the art of capturing light. Sound is the vibration of air, which makes the best producers electrocardiographers, capturing the pulse of someone's heart and soul. I say this because there's something about the way Lykke makes the air move that hits so different to almost anyone else. Listening to her voice live or on almost anyone's track, whether it's her recent sad banger hit with Mark Ronson or a resurrected tune with Royksopp, there's an unmistakable pause, like the air skids to a stop... rubber and smoke sprawls in super slow motion. Shards of glass erupt and glitter as they spray...

I'm aware a male rock critic describing a woman's voice at any greater length would be creepy (if it isn't a bit already). However, the medium is often the message but not always because sometimes the message is "I lay in silence, the silence talks... my heart keeps pulling in the wrong decision." Imagine if you not only wrote that line but it became a mainstream hit. On Spotify 'Late Night Feelings' has had 67 million plays - yes, sixty-seven MILLION! And only a third of of them were me...

It's maybe not even her best lyric. Not that it's a competition but from the crystallisation of reluctance "when everybody's dancing, I don't want to..." to "sex, money, feelings, die, baby don't you cry..." there are too many contenders for the shimmering crown of melancholic bliss. It's little wonder she's gone from the top of the Hype Machine back in the mid-noughties to working with David Lynch and forcing time to standstill during Twilight (soundtracks which REALLY deserve a serious reappraisal at some point for the cultural impact they've had). It's for all these reasons and more she's christening this newsletter for lovers of wonderfully miserable music.

The irony of all of this of course is that the meaning of Lykke's name in Swedish is "happiness, good fortune" and yet it's from moments of unhappiness that she's made enough to fund her own mezcal business (it's called Yola Mezcal and I can 1000% confirm it's one of the best brands) and carry on making it drizzle in our hearts for decades to come.

Until next time...

Keeeeeep cryyyyiiiing!!

Sean xo

P.S. Yes, I have clocked that as someone who as a teenager named a website "Drowned in Sound" that this drizzle and rain talk is another watery metaphor too far. What can I say? "Lonely rivers sigh..."

Here's the link to the Lykke Li: An Unhappy Hour Spotify playlist, which is hopefully well worth one hour and 13 minutes of your life at some point. Maybe on an autumnal walk.

Do let me know what you think of the tracks and this newsletter or the Unhappy Hour radio show via Twitter @seaninsound or Insta.

One of Lykke Li's first interviews was Drowned in Sound's DiScover feature back in 2008. Loved this bit "sometimes I'm so fragile and weak, but other times not at all. It's almost as if I have this much stronger spirit inside that I can't imagine ever failing me - 'cause if it did, I can't even begin to imagine how I'd live. So I'd say it's more about my own different personalities and that struggle." Read the full piece here.

VOGUE on How Yola Jimenez Is Making Mezcal With Women's Empowerment in Mind.

NME's Andrew Trendell's interviewed Lykke Li on how heartbreak, hip hop and lots of mezcal helped 'So Sad So Sexy' come to life.

CONSEQUENCE OF SOUND spoke to Lykke Li about what "Lynchian" means.

You can stream recent editions of the show on Mixcloud for free. Tune in to hear 2 hours of mellow and miserable music every 4 weeks, hosted by me, Sean Adams, the founder of the Drowned in Sound website.

Yes, we've kind of shut up shop. But we have some pre-hiatus commitments to honour, and Drowned in Sound is off to Worthy Farm again this year for arguably the world's biggest festival. Rather than just preview the big acts (you know who The Killers are, right?) we thought that we would do a list of ten things to do that capture the holistic spirit of the festival for you to discover if you are going for the first time, or for those who have been before and just want to spread their wings a little further.

First, though, a playlist, to get you in 'the mood'

When the headline acts finish at Glastonbury, the party is only just beginning. For many people, the late night entertainment in the South-East 'Naughty Corner' is their actual highlight of the festival. And with good reason - the sheer number of extraordinary venues for clubbing with a unique visual and experiential twist is beyond compare. However, one of my favourite late night areas is a little Fifties-themed bar and diner located in The Unfairground, just as you come into the late night area. It's a place you can step away from the festival and dance all night to early rock and roll classics, alongside excellent sets from live blues, R&B and rock and roll bands. This year's line-up includes the terrific Son of Dave, New York Brass Band and Pronghorn. It may be one of the smaller late-night areas but it's one not to be forgotten, which is the reason I make sure I visit it at least once a year.

On the other hand, if you want the truly huge and awe-inspiring late night experience at Glastonbury, there are few things to beat Block9. Set amongst a gigantic post-apocalyptic cityscape with trains embedded in buildings and gouts of flame bursting out everywhere, you can find the fantastic NYC Downlow with brilliant disco-inflected sets from the likes of Prosumer, The Black Madonna and Erick Morello. It's easy to get lost for a whole evening here, then to come out only to be staggered again by the sheer visual drama of the venue. Seriously, even if you don't come to stay for the music you simply have to see Block9, especially given that this year they are doing an interactive visual artwork based on post-truth and the 'fake news' era.

Right at the top of the whole festival - past The Park stage and up a treacherous hill (which has claimed many in the mud, including myself) is one of Glastonbury's true hidden gems - The Crow's Nest. Run by those lovely chaps from Heavenly Records, this tiny venue sits at the highest point of the whole festival, affording tremendous views across the whole site and arguably the best point to get the sheer scale of the whole festival. Not only that, but there is a cracking little bar there and the venue plays host to a series of secret gigs throughout the whole weekend. Rumours are usually flying about but the actual line-up doesn't get announced until the day itself, and even then there is usually a tantalising 'special guests' mentioned on there.

Slightly further down the hill, just at the top of the Park Stage is one of the hardest places to locate in the actual festival. My advice is to look for the rabbit, though the actual entrance to the venue only opens at night and at an undetermined time. Queues can be long to get in, but once you have scampered - Alice in Wonderland-style - through a tunnel, you find yourself in a surreal, psychedelic environment where costumed characters serve you gin from teapots and DJs and live bands keep you entertained. It takes a specific effort to track it down and get in (and if you don't at first succeed; try, try, try again is my tip!) but once there, you have an experience like no other.

Once I have unpacked my tent and sorted out my temporary home for the weekend, my first port of call is the Brothers Cider bar by the West Holts stage. I don't know why, but it's just a tradition I have. But there is something magical about that first drink of the festival being some damn strong and damn sweet pear cider as the flags flicker in the breeze and the hum of humanity and the chatters of excitement start to build. Even better is having the chance to hear some glorious world music and hip-hop on the West Holts stage over the weekend - possibly my favourite overall stage at the festival. Headliners this year include Jon Hopkins, Wu Tang Clan and Janelle Monae (who played one of the best gigs I've ever seen on this stage in 2011) but also keep an eye out for the excellent Mauskovic Dance Band, Hollie Cook. The Turbans, Lizzo, Slowthai and Jeff Goldblum. Yes, THAT Jeff Goldblum!

Though the sheer amount of music makes your head spin at Glastonbury (and there is never enough time to see everything you want) there are occasionally moments where you need to take a couple of hours out to recover your senses and reset your compass. And one of my favourite places to do this is at the Pilton Palais Cinema Tent. Located up at the north-east corner of the site Near Pedestrian Gate C, it is a rough-and-ready tent (no chairs, bring your own) but it continually plays both new and classic films throughout the festival starting from the Wednesday. Impressively, they tend to have films still currently out at the cinema including this year where they have Dexter Fletcher's magnificent Rocketman, as well as going beyond that with a unique preview of Jim Jarmusch's The Dead Don't Die and a Bohemian Rhapsody singalong. Also on this year are Monty Python's Life of Brian, Pulp Fiction, Run Lola Run and Avengers: Endgame. Watch out for special guests introducing the films too - one of my most magical Glastonbury moments was having Studio Ghibli's incandescent My Neighbour Totoro introduced in 2016 by Tilda Swinton. If you need a break from the madness, this is the place to go…


…or maybe here instead? Located over the railway track and up towards the south-east of the site is a stunning area that encapsulates the origins of the festival as a meeting for travellers and hippies. Set over two fields are a series of craft workshops with such things as blacksmithery, woodwork, basket weaving, arts and crafts and jewellery making that allow you to take part in traditional crafts and to learn about trades handed down through generations. Cross over into the next field and you will find areas for meditation, yoga workshops, massage tents, tepees and a strong focus on themes of environmentalism and caring for the planet. It has a stunning sense of calm and quiet about it to the point where you can almost forget that the biggest festival in the world is going on around you, but it is wonderful for clearing the head and soul after a heavy night on the cider. Also make the time to visit the Stone Circle adjacent to it, but don't expect any peace there - it is a raucous gathering for drummers, party-goers and the chemically charged over the whole weekend, but the sight of it is worth seeing at least once over the weekend.

Ok, Glastonbury is often muddy. And though there are showers at the Kidz Field and the Greenpeace stage, they can have long queues. So most of the time, you just accept that… let's just say, you won't be at your freshest over the weekend. Big deal, we're all in the same boat. But if you do want something a little different or if you cannot go another day without being clean - body and soul - then the Lost Horizon Sauna is one of the most unique experiences you can have at the festival. Located at the top of the tepee field, it is an oasis of calm and tranquillity where you can shower, have a sauna and plunge pool and relax in a jacuzzi whilst drinking herbal tea and smoothies, all to the sound of acoustic acts. It is an additional cost of £15 per person and it can be a trek if you are on the other side of the site, but it is something you will never forget and a couple of hours that leave you feeling like a completely different person. Plus, the general ethos is that clothes=bad there, so you find everyone wandering around in the nude generally. And being naked whilst looking down at the festival below brings you that bit closer to the original hippie energy of its earliest days.

The Greenpeace area is located just to the left of the rail track as you head towards the South East corner and often I've taken a detour and ended up staying all night. The reason is that the Greenpeace stage is one of the best places in the festival to spend the evening. By day they have countless excellent displays and talks on preserving the planet, often with enormous animatronic figures of whales and polar bears, as well as a skatepark and some of the best food in the festival. By night, the place comes alive with DJs and special guests. Those announced to play there in 2019 include Norman Jay, Oh My God! It's the Church, Crazy P, Rob Da Bank, She Drew the Gun, Boy Azooga and Elvana - Elvis Fronted Nirvana (who really have to be seen to be believed). But also watch out for special guest late-night DJ sets. Thom Yorke has rocked up there in the past and in 2017, Jarvis Cocker played one of the most memorable DJ sets I've ever seen, including making the whole place go utterly ballistic when he dropped 'Stayin' Alive'. Day and night, it's the beating heart of the twin-faces of environmental activism and music that underpins the whole ethos of the festival.

Ok. I know that the stock response to anyone moaning about the headline names on the Glastonbury line-up is 'but there is so much more to see than just the main stage' but there really is nothing on earth like a proper Pyramid Stage gig that truly catches fire. The sheer scale of the crowds, the knowledge that you are being watched across the globe and the absolute sense of camaraderie is something that you really have to experience at least once during the festival. From Jay Z slaying the doubters in 2008, to the raw brilliance of Neil Young and the transcendent spiritual experience that was Blur's astonishing set in 2009, to Stevie Wonder in 2010, Arcade Fire in 2014 and Radiohead in 2017, The Pyramid Stage has given some of the finest headline shows of my time going to festivals. And you don't have to see a headliner there to get the magic - I can think of Scissor Sisters and Shakira in 2009, B.B. King in 2011, Elvis Costello in 2013, The Libertines, Burt Bacharach and Patti Smith in 2015 and being utterly magnificent during the daytime. And that's without the famous "Legends" slot which frequently brings one of the biggest crowds of the weekend - Tom Jones with the hits in 2009, Dolly Parton owning it in 2014, Lionel Richie impeccably bringing the sun in 2015 and Barry Gibb and Chic bringing a tremendous party in 2017. However much you might prefer the music on the other stages, try to get to at least one Pyramid Stage show over the weekend to experience the unique spell that a show on that scale can bring.

Photo by Gary Wolstenholme

For once, Tom Barman is apprehensive. Not about tonight's dEUS show, but the two-hour DJ set he's been booked to play at the official after party. "What has happened in the past is this miscommunication with people," he explains as we lounge on a terrace in the late afternoon sunshine. "They expect me to play rock, and then I play electro." Electro? "Yeah, deep house, techno, drum'n'bass, indie house, glitch, trap, whatever you want. It's just fucking dance music. But then they ask for R&B, so I tell them to go to the supermarket, where you can hear R&B twenty-four-seven. Nothing against R&B by the way, but I just don't play it, you know?"

Nothing is ever straightforward in the world of dEUS, but for once they're taking pause to celebrate their legacy and the love fans have for the album that's come to define them. March saw the 20th Anniversary of The Ideal Crash, and alongside the now de riguer re-mastered re-issue - complete with demos, B-sides, and rarities - they decided to tour it, playing all ten tracks in full and in order, followed by an assortment of their other greatest hits. Tonight is the second of three sold-out shows in Utrecht - they also have eight in a row at Brussels' Ancienne Belgique alongside dates all across Europe and a summer of festival action. In total they'll play 34 concerts, quite an impact for something that was initially conceived as more of a low key jaunt.

"A gift," says Barman of the reaction, but then The Ideal Crash has always stood out as being special. The title, taken from the Alain de Botton novel Essays In Love, references the personal turmoil Barman and violinist and keyboardist Klaas Janzoons were going through - both were dealing with serious heartbreak - but also the difficulty that came with replacing two original members. The band decamped to Spain for over a year and, despite various tensions simmering in the background, their time in Ronda, a dramatic old mountaintop town famous for the Puente Neuvo stone bridge where their management had bought a hotel, proved fruitful.

They returned with a record where every song goes in a different direction, delighting, exploring, and confounding expectation at every turn. The Ideal Crash was also the point where dEUS left behind the chaos and the skewed mix of styles that had made their early releases vibrate with energy. Gone were the skeletal blues, howling guitars, and crashing, angry slabs of noise, and in place of Beefheart, Zappa, Tom Waits, and the jazz greats, inspiration was taken instead from Air, Beck, and Mercury Rev's "Deserters Songs". But despite being somewhat more rounded, it remained unmistakably dEUS - "Just a different kind of weird," according to Barman.

This softer, more mature sound was supposed to help dEUS break the mainstream but, exhausted and on edge from years on the road and internal strife, the stress of the subsequent tour broke the band instead. All five retreated to normal life, and by the time they properly reconvened five years later, their sound - and lineup - had changed once again. Yet The Ideal Crash has endured, both in terms of its influential legacy and as the moment in time where they chose greatness on their own terms, and trusted their instincts; "We were so proud of it when we finished, we just knew," says Barman.

"You just make albums, and you work, and then twenty years later you find out a particular one really meant something to people," he adds. "I'm just happy to hear those songs still stand up." They certainly do; to witness some middle-aged fans defiantly lose their shit to 'Instant Street', 'Everybody's Weird', and the title track is to realise just how affecting dEUS' music really was and, despite little commercial success, how far and wide it spread. Such realisations are also behind a documentary they're filming on tour, one that will feature the life stories of their fans more than the band themselves.

"I wanted dEUS to be a vehicle for people to talk about their own lives over the past twenty years, to talk about something that's nothing to do with us," he explains about the plan he conceived just before the tour. "I think it can become something really sweet and personal, something very special." There's little doubt that, in keeping with their cultural impact and near thirty-year career, it'll turn out to be something very special indeed.

DiS: I know you're not particularly big fans of nostalgia and the like. When did you start thinking about doing this for The Ideal Crash?

Tom Barman: About a year ago, but we don't really see it as nostalgia. It's more a gift to people who see it as nostalgia, which is basically the people in the room; the fans. I can speak for Klaas too; we don't have the feeling that we're making an extra effort, that it's like: "Oh, look at us playing those old songs." You know, four or five of those songs are on our setlist anyways.

So to us, this feels like a gift, and a gift that gives us something too, which is love - people are listening and enjoying it. Sorry, it sounds so corny, but that's the way I see it now after fifteen shows. Nostalgia doesn't even come into the equation.

And everyone agreed? Everyone was like: "Yeah, let's do this! Let's tour the album!"?

TB: Yeah. I think they asked for it for Worst Case Scenario too [their debut album, which was released in 1994].

Klaas Janzoons: This one is a nice one to deal with. With Worst Case Scenario, I don't think we'd be able to play songs like 'Mute'.

TB: 'Mute' or 'Shake Your Hip'.

Those would be a bit trickier I imagine.

KJ: We have songs on that album [Worst Case Scenario] that we've never played, so this one works. It is strange for us to play the same set every night though.

TB: But we enjoy it.

KJ: Yeah, we enjoy it too. In the beginning, I was a bit afraid of how it was going to be, but then we have these dancers...they give it this extra thing. It's like a piece of theatre almost. So it's not exactly the same every time, and you look forward to the point when they come on. It's nice.

TB: A punter in Austria put it really spot on. He said: "Knowing beforehand..." - and I don't know if he read it on the Internet or I said it on stage, like we're going to play it from one to ten - but he said: "a kind of calm came over me, and it made me doubly capable of just enjoying it because I knew what was going to happen." And I agree that that would be kind of boring to build your career on, doing that every time, but for one tour, I went like: "Gee, thank you. I never saw it that way, and that makes sense." It's like: "I know what's going to come, give it to me, I'm here, I'm listening." And that's it - there's kind of zen quality to that.

Have you been surprised by the reaction to it? Because you're now adding more and more dates, right?

TB: There's like five, maybe six added on, yeah. But I am surprised, in a good way. You know, you just make albums, and you work, and then twenty years later you find out a particular one really meant something to people. The confessions that we're doing, the documentary - I haven't seen any yet but I hear the stories, and they are proof of that.

I was also genuinely surprised because it's a very raw album, it's a very harsh album at times. So, when people come [to the shows], and they're thirty-two, and they go "I was twelve when this came out", you go "Woah!"

I always find it kind of ironic that with these classic album reissues, a lot of the time the response and the acclaim is way bigger second time around. And probably more lucrative as well.

TB: Well, we could have played and toured more [at the time], but as you know Craig [Ward] was leaving the band…More lucrative? Probably. In Belgium yes, because eight times at Ancienne Belgique is five times more than the three times we did it [in 1999]. But this is a small tour really. And as Klaas keeps on repeating, and rightfully so, back in 1999 that was some tour. So it's not like this is way bigger or anything - it was pretty big back then too.

KJ: The old albums are more popular in general, so people are more willing to come to concerts of the old stuff.

Touring classic albums has become a thing though. Alongside the re-issues and special editions.

TB: It is a fad, but when you're in it, it feels right. As long as you don't do it for two years straight.

KJ: I think it's normal because it's a part of people's lives, so it's a nostalgic thing for them. Even if we make our best album ever now, people will always want to hear those old songs; maybe more than the new ones. That's how it is with all bands that have a long career.

Looking back at the 18 months or so you had in Spain writing and recording, what are your memories and recollections of that time?

TB: For me, mostly good. Klaas had a bit of a dark period, which he will gladly talk about.

KJ: Of course. Half living in Spain at that age was like paradise, all the songs and the beautiful, old, historic city.

It is a beautiful part of the world.

KJ: And the nature is incredibly beautiful. At that age, being able to do that, like a holiday slash work thing? A lot of people at that age are still in a day job, so it was fantastic. But it had its downside. I lost my girl at that time because I was away half the time; that's how life goes, but that was pretty hard for me.

Being far from home and family is never easy at the best of times.

KJ: Yeah. I did suffer sometimes with a bit of homesickness.

TB: Homesickness or melancholy. But I loved it! Of course, there were moments where things weren't great, you know? But the kind of lovesickness I felt was before we went to record. That happened in 2007, so for me, it was just cleansing. And also, I discovered myself to be getting more and more interested in the production side and listening to takes. That side of recording was new to me.

What else was new was confessional lyrics, digging into yourself and getting it out of your own life. There used to be kind of a stew on the first two records - a stew of personal things, things that I'd stolen, experimental stuff, experimental poetry, and suddenly I just went like...It just flooded out of me. So, for many reasons, it was a very exciting time.

Which song on the record is your personal favourite?

TB: 'Let's See Who Goes Down First'.

KJ: Which is a funny thing, because I remember having to fight for that song to be on the album!

TB: Yeah. But it was...it came a long way. How we play it now, I love it, especially because it's like dEUS in a nutshell. It starts very poppy, and carefree, yet ends in sheer fucking existential agony. [Laughs] Which, I think, kind of sums us up.

Related to that, do you have a favourite lyric? Or a line where you feel you nailed whatever it was that you were trying to express

Tom: Yeah, from 'Magdalena'. "But I'm feeling good / And if you don't exist / You're still one illusion / That I can't resist". That line. That sums it up because that's basically what love is — kind of a beautiful illusion.

Having seen the show a few times now, I've been really struck how faithfully you've managed to recreate all the songs. Was that quite hard to do on a technical level, like getting all the guitar tones right for every single song and easily flipping from one to the next?

TB: Oh yes! But all because I'm not from the school who thinks that the best versions are the ones you do after you record the album. I go with the best version on the album. Meaning, you work hard on that, you get it right, so why change it? You fucking already worked a year and a half to get it like that, why would you change it? You could have different accents, and you can make things longer - which we do by the way - but we're an art rock band, meaning it's not like a blues or jazz band where that was the spur of the moment thing and then on stage, in The Hague or in fucking New York, it's going to be something completely different.

We are not that. We are building layers of stuff that we worked on and sweated on, so when it's there, we are happy with it, and that's the way we are going to play. That's how I see it.

You have a new guitarist now [Bruno de Groote, who joined early last year, replacing Mauro Pawlowski], and three members who weren't around when you made this album as well.

TB: Bruno had a big job, but the others have listened to the record a lot over the last ten years or so. I mean, for some songs, I had to study it again, just like Klaas had to or Steph [Misseghers, drummer]. You know, 'Let's See Who Goes Down First', we hadn't played that for eighteen years, so there you go.

But those parts are the way they are, and you make things longer, you make an intro longer…we've changed 'Magic Hour' a bit. We have a new ending for 'Let's See Who Goes Down First'. That's just a luxury you take because you enjoy playing it so much so you think: "Let's make it longer and make it even more exploding at the end. With Viking shouts. [Shouts]"

It works, though.

TB: It's my favourite moment!

I'm intrigued by the dancers and the theatrical aspect to the show, which I know is something you dabbled with early on in your career.

TB: We dabbled a lot! In the video for 'Turnpike', and of course for 'Instant Street'.

But, it's still like: "Oh wow, they've got dancers!"

TB: It was my idea twenty years ago, but it was Steph's idea now. He went: "How about the dancers?" And I went: "Man, that's insane, we can't afford that." But the idea stuck. And then I came up with the idea, why don't we ask Ann [Van de Broek, choreographer and artistic director] who was there twenty years ago? She's a great woman, she's a great choreographer, and she has a network. So we thought: "Why don't we work - for financial reasons, mostly, but also for the excitement and that homegrown kind of thing - with locals?" And it still cost us quite an amount of money, but it's worth it because as Klaas says, it's like this fresh influx of talent.

And it's great for the fans. By now, people know because they've seen something on YouTube or whatever, but a lot of people are still surprised and going: "What the hell's going on?"

You have just one dancer touring with you, right?

TB: Just one, just Nik [Rajsek]. He's always drilling the locals.

So in every city, you've got a new set of dancers?

TB: Yeah. Basically, we have Anne - she is the moon. Then we have two satellite choreographers; one who travels with us - Nik - and a second satellite in every city. Let's call him number three. Number three picks the students, and he drills them a day before we arrive, and on the day itself when we play. And that's it.

That must add a certain element of excitement, like with every new crew you're not quite sure exactly how it's going to go.

TB: Well, that's Nik's stress of course, but Nik is very professional. And especially because he was thrown into this bus with twelve strangers and he was accepted, he was cool, he was fun.

KJ: We are almost a community, you know? Just from this tour.

TB: Actually, I'm gonna have a hard time doing without in the future, but that's where it's related. Maybe we won't do without.

Maybe you can always have dancers.

TB: Yes, now we have the network. The network is sorted.

I'm also intrigued by the idea behind the documentary that you're doing around the tour.

TB: Well, so are we!

Because you don't want anyone talking about the band or the music per se. It's just about their own lives over the last twenty years, right?

TB: That's what I'm saying, but people end up doing that anyway, so you can shout as much as you like, "We don't want you to talk about that!" But people show up for that reason, so they have particular memories that they want to share. I haven't seen any of it, but I think this is the kind of documentary that will make itself, in the sense that those confessions are going to drive where it goes. But I just wanted dEUS to be a vehicle for lives.

For people's stories of life and love?

TB: Yeah, but I mean people come there, they talk about something that's nothing to do with us; about how they met their wife, why they got divorced, whatever. dEUS is just a vehicle for what we are going to have as stories. I think we're going to intercut that with exciting live footage as well, but that's just a half page 'Note of Intent'; the rest we'll have to see.

KJ: People talk to us, and that's where we mentioned the nostalgia thing coming up. When people come and talk to us after the show, they always go: "You can't believe how much that album meant to me!" and then tell us about their lives. So, this is actually just what they are doing to us all the time. The good idea is to record it, because you can't believe the things they say. And it's not about us - our music was just the vehicle.

TB: It's also embracing the fact of getting older, and you as a band with your audience. And it can become something very sweet, and hopefully not too...you know? I'm not going to edit it because I might censor things that may be good. It may become something really sweet and personal, with us as the motor for it, the propeller.

Do you have like a working title for it?

TB: Yes. Only 'Cause Of Love: Confessions To dEUS. That's a line from 'Put The Freaks Up Front'.

I was chatting to Fleur [Boonman, the film director and documentary maker] in London the other night, and she said that some of the stuff she'd recorded already was incredible.

TB: That's what it is. They all start talking about dEUS, then Fleur tries to lead it to being about them, and they either take the bait or they don't - you're not going to force people. But maybe some stuff about the band is also nice. That's why I'm not going to be involved in it, because if somebody says something really beautiful and flattering about the band, I might say: "Oh, come on. That's a bit much!" you know?

But maybe it is really beautiful, and maybe it is time to embrace that. dEUS documentaries have always been, if I may say so myself, brutally fucking honest about the fights, about the commercial underachievement, and all that negative stuff. Bands usually paint the nicest picture, but we were always the champions of: "look how fucked up we are." Maybe it's time to have something really nice, that's all I'm saying.

I think you deserve that.

TB: Yeah well, we'll see. We'll see.

The Ideal Crash (20th Anniversary Edition) is out now via Universal Music Belgium. For more information about dEUS, including current tour dates and ticket info, please visit their official website.

All Photo Credits: Joao MB Costa

Amidst the many panels and workshops at Bratislava's Sharpe Festival, one stood out. Titled "Good-hearted Promotion or Downright Spam", it looked at the role of PR in the digital age and how artists - and, indeed, labels and journalists - could benefit from the services of a seasoned professional. A key issue for many in attendance was how to break through online noise, and how to achieve traction - and exposure - beyond their own borders. There is, of course, no easy answer. "Be truthful in your art and your message," says Poland's Gabriela Szuba, a promoter and booking manager. "Work hard…and be good!" adds Richard Foster, PR manager at Rotterdam's WORM and acclaimed journalist, a somewhat self-evident exhortation but one that rings true.

And yet the sad reality is that for many bands - not just the ones performing here - neither of those things are guarantees of success. Nothing is. Sharpe draws the majority of its artists from Eastern and Central Europe but despite the talent on show - and we witness some incredible sets - a viable, sustainable career in music seems to be an almost impossible dream for many; virtually everyone we talk to has a day job or side hustle to pay the bills. One can't shake the feeling that if some of these acts hailed from Hackney or Williamsburg they'd have a fighting chance but when you're from, say, Ljubljana or Kiev, an indifferent shrug from the West is a more likely reaction (unsurprisingly, only two UK publications have bothered to make the trip).

It's a shame as most of the artists playing are significantly better than the trust fund kids and cool haircut brigade that clog up many Ones To Watch and Hot Lists in the UK. Inventive too, with Ukrainian duo Ptakh_Jung being a case in point. Their dark swirls of noise blend elements of post-rock, electronica, and ambient soundscapes, and are backed by arresting, futuristic visuals. It's all very cinematic and dystopian - a bit Aphex-Twin-meets-Ennio-Morricone - and the sensory overload they conjure is impressive. More than anything, you get the sense they've thought deeply about their music and what they want to convey; the slow build tension and intricate layers sound like the fruits of countless hours spent honing and tweaking.

Slovakia's own Möbius are another band whose music literally demands attention. Their instrumental doom/stoner sludge hybrid rock is Sun O))) levels of loud, and extremely heavy; just like Stephen O'Malley, the guitarist employs huge amounts of low end and reverb to create great slabs of noise that shake you to your very bones. "Evokes images of huge caverns slowly collapsing around you," says one comment on their Bandcamp page, an apt description for a band playing songs called 'Eternal Weeping In Agonies' and 'All Who Drink From The Abyss Experience Complete Oblivion'. And while there is an enveloping, crushing quality to the sound, a sonic death grip that draws you in gradually to its colossal embrace, there's also some groove buried in the murk; not for them endless repetition or noise for it's own sake.

Market, a five-piece hailing from Prague, have pursued the cerebral route, blending a dizzying array of styles and motifs into something that could be labelled improvisational jazz indie. Elements of rock, hip hop, Zappa and Beefheart stick out, while the vocals recall King Krule's woozy, stream-of-consciousness thoughts on love and romance. It's an intoxicating brew, with enough solid ideas to make the more outré moments - the quintet frequently swap instruments; some songs stop and start inexplicably - seem more like avant-garde exuberance than fatal flaws. It's refreshing at least to see a band dare to fail with some big ideas and the chops to execute them, rather than simply adding the odd flourish to standard indie fare and thinking they're clever.

That being said, there are also plenty of bands at Sharpe following more traditional paths and doing a mighty fine job of it. Austrian duo MOLLY walk the line between shoegaze and dreamy, ambient pop, effortless switching between soaring, sky-high guitars and quiet grace. "Glittering" is a good way to describe their music; some of their riffs positively shimmer, while even the noisier moments are done with subtlety and beauty. Melby, from Sweden, deal in breezier fare, their airy, semi-psychedelic folk-pop an enchanting way of opening proceedings on the Friday night. They run through most of their debut record, None of this makes me worry, and it's easy to see why various blogs have been charmed by the Stockholm-based quartet.

Question is, what comes next? How do indie bands like this evolve their sound and get bigger and better without losing whatever it was that made them noteworthy to begin with? Slovenia's Koala Voice are a band who've wrestled with precisely this conundrum. Three albums in, their carefree indie pop sounds a little grittier, a little rougher around the edges. There's a punkier, more boisterous attitude to their work now, but it suits them; the new material sounds like a band freed from the constraints of trying to second guess what might be successful and just having a blast.

Such a description could also be applied to Bristol's SCALPING, who deliver a pulverising late-night Friday set and look like they love every minute of mayhem they serve up. Ostensibly a live techno-punk band, they've also been pegged as being "challengingly innovative". Certainly, there's nothing standard about their screaming techno, squelching bass, and post-rock time signatures; throw in some math rock swagger and you've got apocalyptic and insanely catchy bangers that sound like Factory Floor trying out blackened post-punk. It's intense and mesmerizing in equal measure, and helped along by arresting, Blade Runner-style visuals projected onto the backdrop.

Tucked away in a side room - officially designated as The Library - one can discover a quieter side of Sharpe. Sponsored by Sofar Sounds, a series of special guests play short acoustic sets to a seated audience; the hook is the artists are not announced in advance. However, we're lucky enough to be tipped off that local heroes The Ills - a band we've been championing for a number of years now - will be performing, so we nab a front-row seat early for this rare event.

Their soaring post-rock soundscapes translate surprisingly well to acoustic guitars, the power of their riffs replaced by delicacy and nimbleness. Songs still have a euphoric quality, but the melodies - and the sheer prettiness - of some of the guitar lines really stand out. If someone was unfamiliar with their work, they'd be hard pushed to guess that this was not their normal modus operandi - they really are that good. A highlight is 'I Am My Own Weakness, Darling', taken from recent record Disco Volante / Mt. Average - aided on vocals by another local, Dominik Prok of 52 Hertz Whale, it's a dark, brooding tale, Prok stalking through the audience, singing a capella.

It's a poised, serene twenty-minutes, and a lesson for anyone reluctant to step outside their comfort zone. It's also one of the best sets we witness all weekend, topped only by another band we've championed before, Rotterdam's The Sweet Release Of Death. Late on Saturday they deliver a taut, fizzing thirty-minute blast that's as powerful and energetic as anything we witness. 'Post Everything' highlights everything that makes them great; earworm riffs, spacious, sky-high arpeggios, and motorik drums defiantly build into a swirling crescendo that cuts out just as it threatens to spin out of control; one part noise-pop, two parts post-punk.

New track 'Sway', taken from their forthcoming record, is precisely the sort of anthem that needs to be experienced ear-bleedingly loud, a shattering song that nonetheless has an infectious groove buried amid the maelstrom. And through all this there's vocalist and bassist Alicia Breton Ferrer, a stoic, deadpan presence, the calm amid the storm. It's as tight as I've seen them; not a moment or note is wasted, their whip-smart new material sounding lean and streamlined.

As with many of the artists playing here, they deserve wider acclaim than they'll probably get - certainly, they're every bit the equal of those in the UK riding the coattails of punk rock's surge in popularity. They wouldn't be out of place halfway up the bill at All Points East say, or Primavera Sound - as for some of the nonsense hyped here, well, it makes you wonder why such bands bother. Sharpe is an event that aims to redress this balance, and after two editions, its ethos and credentials are beyond reproach - they really do know their music out here. The hope is that more and more people - and the industry at large - will start paying attention and cast their ears eastwards, for if it's quality they're after, rich rewards await.

Sharpe Festival takes place in Bratislava, Slovakia, at the end of April. For more information about the festival, including dates and tickets for the 2020 edition, please visit their official website.

Photo Credit Banner (The Sweet Release Of Death): Ondrej Irša

All Other Photos: Credit As Indicated

May being the month of showcase events, DiS headed over to the city of Aarhus in Denmark for SPOT Festival. Celebrating its 25th anniversary this year, SPOT has firmly established itself as one of the leading events of its kind. Attracting a global audience of fans and delegates along with an array of the best musical talent Scandinavia has to offer, it's become known as the Nordic South By Southwest for a good reason.

Taking place across numerous venues in and around the city over the first weekend in May, we found ourselves veering off the beaten track in search of hidden gems as well as focusing on the more traditional venues. Such exploration led us to a recording studio, a bowling alley, a late night cabaret bar, a gazebo on the market square, and the city's dockland area (several times), formerly home to its industrial heartland.

With such a diverse selection of artists to choose from and less than forty-eight hours in which to do so, here are eleven of the best acts we saw over the course of the weekend.

Aage Hedensted Kinch has been a mainstay of the Danish underground music scene for a number of years now having played in numerous bands and been a go-to person for overseas touring acts looking for shows. However, his current outfit Catch The Breeze might just be his finest outlet to date.

Playing in a tiny gazebo at the Klosterport on the city's market square, his band make an incendiary racket that brings curious passers-by to the front of its entrance (there is no stage as such) in droves, including two highly intoxicated characters that threaten to steal the show courtesy of the Bez style dance moves they throw throughout the set.

As the name suggests, Catch The Breeze make a beautiful noise that sits between classic early 90s shoegaze and the more recent Krautrock-infused spate of neo-psychedelia that's had a resurgence in recent years. Playing a set of material almost exclusively taken from last year's excellent Glow, they're an early revelation that sets the scene (and indeed, the standard) for the next two days.

Collider are a very interesting band, not least due to the fact their music is so spontaneous and makes them impossible to compartmentalize or categorise. Musically they're like the centre point of an axis created by My Bloody Valentine, The Raincoats and Jethro Tull, as unimaginable as that may seem. Hailing from Copenhagen, the four-piece have worked and played with Thurston Moore and that tutelage has served them well if their forty-five minutes long set is anything to go by.

Woozy, reverb-laden guitars fill the mix while Marie Nyhus Janssen and Troels Damgaard-Christensen's swooning harmonies have an air of Bilinda Butcher and Kevin Shields about them. However, proceedings take an unexpected discourse when Janssen whips out the saxophone and flute at regular intervals to create post-punk, jazz-tinged odysseys. Suitably aided and abetted by the taut rhythm section of Mikkel Trojborg Fink and Johan Polder, their sense of unpredictability is what makes them such a breath of fresh air and ultimately, captivating outfit.

Oslo based trio Dark Times have been around for the best part of a decade and yet, as with many of the band's visceral contemporaries, now seems the right time more than ever for the world to hear their wares.

Having put out their first recordings in 2011 before releasing debut LP Give three years later, it's been an uphill struggle for one of Norway's most outspoken, feminist punk bands. Nevertheless, 2018's excellent follow-up Tell Me What You Need - released on Norwegian independent Sheep Chase Records - has undoubtedly put them on the map, and deservedly so, as both their performances at SPOT evidently highlight.

DiS was particularly impressed by their mid-afternoon slot for Tapetown at Lydhavnen recording studios near the city's docklands. Blasting through ten songs in just under half an hour, we're suitably reminded of Bikini Kill, Action Pact, Dirt and Vice Squad in equal measures.

We've been long-standing fans of D/Troit and in particular, their label Crunchy Frog Recordings for a number of years now. 2019 also marks the 25th anniversary of the label's existence and having been a pivotal heart of Denmark's independent music scene, it's heartwarming to see so many people turn out for their birthday afterparty at Sway.

Imagine a collaboration between The Blues Brothers and Searching For The Young Soul Rebels era Dexy's Midnight Runners and you're somewhere near D/Troit's ballpark. Funk driven blues and soul are the names of the game here, and their high energy set understandably fills the dancefloor and indeed part of the stage too.

Energetic frontman Toke Bo Nisted is a focal point, his soulful voice and exquisite dance moves rightly earning the plaudits, while drummer Stefan Cannerslund Andersen is a machine of sorts, keeping time throughout the band's set and more often than not, becomes the driving force in each of their ten, deftly delivered numbers.

Stockholm based singer-songwriter Linn Koch-Emmery might just be the finest Swedish musical export this decade. You may remember Linn's twin sister Lea from the vastly underrated Kid Wave, formerly signed to Heavenly Recordings. Linn's musical lineage is of a similar trajectory but aims even more directly for the jugular, which is just the tonic on this cold and windy Saturday night.

Playing a nine-song set of no-nonsense indie rock that's partially indebted to the golden age of Creation Records and 4AD - we pick out a couple of glorious moments in 'Forever Sounds' and 'Waves' for instance that remind us of Teenage Fanclub and The Breeders respectively - but has both eyes firmly fixated on the future. She's another revelation that will surely become a household name over the coming months.

When things go wrong they go spectacularly wrong, as was the case with Mankind earlier in the day. Travelling from their native Stockholm by road in singer Arthur Onion's car, it breaks down en route leaving bass player Fredrik Diffner stranded in the process. Most bands would have just given up at that point yet instead of feeling sorry for themselves, Mankind borrowed a friend's vehicle and arrived at SPOT slightly later than scheduled.

Which, as it happens, turned out to be the best thing they could possibly do. Despite being bassless, their Saturday teatime set at Lydhavnen as part of the Tapetown Sessions was delivered impeccably considering it was mostly improvised around what they could play being a member down.

Frontman Onion has an air of Mac DeMarco or Ty Segall about him, particularly in his vocal delivery while songs like 'Ghost' and 'My Luck Will Change' convey a playfulness reminiscent of Deerhunter or Room On Fireera Strokes, which explains why producer Gordon Raphael is so keen to work with them.

Having emerged from the same garage punk scene as Yung (whose Mikkel Silkjaer Holm plays drums with them this evening), Tears make an unholy racket that's frenetic yet also gratifyingly endearing in its execution.

Regulars on the Aarhus circuit for a number of years now, Tears is essentially the brainchild of Jeppe Gronbaek, a musical chameleon of sorts whose output ranges from furious post-punk to melancholic guitar ballads, sometimes during the same couplet.

Unsurprisingly playing to a large crowd as part of the Shordwood Records event at Knud's Kiosk in the heart of Aarhus' docklands area, even the arrival of snow (YES SNOW! IN MAY!) throughout their set doesn't deter the raucous excitement both on and off stage as band and crowdsurfers brave the weather conditions over yonder to engage in the time of their lives.

Kim Munk is something of a local legend around these parts, having formed The Broken Beats twenty years ago. Over that time, they've also had almost as many members as The Fall, with a staggering 56 musicians having passed through their ranks since 1999!

They've also put out six albums and constantly toured around Europe while Munk has written musical pieces for theatre, film, and fellow artists as well as playing in any number of other bands on the side. So it shouldn't come as too much of a surprise that he's a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to combining his music with live performance.

Which serves us well for this intimate MTV curated show in the extremely plush Scandic Hotel. Having recently signed to Target Records with four single releases planned for later this year, The Broken Beats' set combined old and new material that reminded us of Pulp, The Divine Comedy, or even Scott Walker at his most sophisticated.

Having first witnessed The Entrepreneurs, a Copenhagen-based trio, at 2016's Roskilde Festival, it's heartening to see how far they've progressed in the three years since. While the rough and ready elements that stood out during that Roskilde performance remain an omnipresent feature of the band's make-up, they've added a polished sheen that should stand them in good stead for their inevitable sojourn into international territories.

February's ace debut LP Noise & Romance fully encapsulated their nascent fusion of elegant songwriting and experimental noise rock, but it's in a live setting where everything really clicks. Playing in a seated auditorium might not seem like the ideal setting, particularly when the aversion is to stand up and throw one's self around like a loon from the off, yet there's something quite beguiling about these surroundings. Not least because they're undoubtedly a sign of things to come, for on this form, The Entrepreneurs trajectory can only lead one way and that is upwards.

A simply majestic performance from one of Denmark's finest bands.

The word "potential" is often overused when it comes to art and music, but in this case, it merely illustrates the tip of the iceberg. Initially a duo comprised of Robert Jancevich (vocals and guitar) and Ragnard Gudmunds (drums), the addition of Charlotte Mortensen on bass two months has added a whole new dimension to what Twin Dive describe as their "cosmopolitan rock and roll" sound.

Playing the Klosterport on Friday afternoon, their set also coincides with a torrential downpour, yet that doesn't deter a stream of punters and onlookers from staying put until the bitter end. Musically, their output veers between Band Of Skulls and The Kills territory to heavier moments when we're reminded of Smashing Pumpkins or Screaming Trees.

Recent single 'Joy Will Follow' understandably receives a hero's reception, but with more 45s set to follow throughout the course of the year, we're predicting big things for this Aarhus-based trio in the none distant future.

Formerly known as Zeroine, this duo - now going by ZRN - have been on our radar for a long time. Ever since 2014's excellent 'Animous' single in fact, so it's been a long wait to finally get to witness them in the flesh.

Playing an experimental noise set this evening, Stine Beck and Christian Sindling Soendegaard's potent mix of drones, electronic beats, and fuzz pedal infused guitar proves a laconic cocktail for those who've veered off the beaten track to witness their performance at the tiny Studio 02K on Sydhavnen in the city's docklands.

People sit on the floor cross-legged while shards of noise build then eclipse around them. It's a dazzling sonic melange so aptly fitting for this kind of setting. Let's hope another five years don't pass before we meet again.

SPOT Festival takes place early every May, in Aarhus, Denmark. For more information about the festival, including dates and tickets for the 2020 edition, please visit their official website.

Photo Credit Banner: Morten Rygaard

Catch The Breeze Photo Credit: Per Bergmann

D/Troit and The Entrepreneurs Photo Credit: Tricia Yourkevich