Posts Tagged ‘electro’

Infacted Recordings – 2nd January 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Where were you when…? That’s the question that is so often asked when it comes to moments in history. Whether it’s the assassination of John Lennon or JFK, or 9/11 (I was at work on the third floor of an office in Glasgow, and as the news broke, it didn’t seem real. At some point, people may ask ‘where were you when America invaded Venezuela, abducted their president and declared that they would be running the country and taking their oil?’

Me, I was starting preparation for a pasta bake ahead of a visit from my elderly mother whose mental capacity is in severe mental decline, and my stepfather, whose mental capacity has been questionable for the thirty years I’ve known him, stressing over how much grief I would get over being vegetarian, yet again, or similar.

I found myself faced with the dilemma – did I actually want to write about music in the face of this? Was it even appropriate? The answer was that I needed to immerse myself in music, to take myself out this hellish unreality by retreating to someplace safe. Someplace safe, for me, is my office, with some candles, a large vodka, and the challenge of articulating the impact of new music in words.

Back in 1992, The Wedding Present undertook the task of releasing a single a month, on 7”, and each one hit the UK top 40, and scored the band a record number of chart singles in a year – beating Elvis Presley. A couple of years back, I covered the progress of Argonaut as they released a single a month to assemble their next album. Again, it was a great example of how deadlines and confines can push creative output, although I was rather glad I didn’t have to get busses into town after school and rush round the various record shops to source a copy of said monthly singles.

And now UK industrial/electronic artist j:dead are on a trip of twelve singles in twelve months, perversely starting in December, making this the second in the series.

For a moment, I shall step aside and share from the accompanying bio for expanded context:

‘Where opening single “Pressure” confronted the crushing weight of expectation, “Disgusting” turns the lens inward, addressing the uncomfortable realization of having slipped into complacency. Through candid, visceral lyrics, the track embodies the feeling of awakening to one’s own laziness, comfort, and decline; expressed symbolically through the erosion of physical appearance. It’s a raw, self-critical reflection delivered with the intensity that defines j:dead’s work.’

‘Disgusting’ is a slice of high-energy electronica with a gothy / industrial edge which hits hard. Pumping beats, processed vocals and buoyant dance derivative synths dominate this single release which has alternative clubnight rager written all over it. And it’s the perfect escape.

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Christopher Nosnibor

In my workplace, there’s been an email thread circulating with end of year reviews of best and worst gigs etc. It started around the end of November. I had four more shows to go to then, including this one, and you never know if your gig of the year could be a last-minute entry – especially with Cold in Berlin having dropped Wounds mid-November. What with this and Sorrows by Cwfen, it’s been a stellar year for New Heavy Sounds, showcasing some remarkable work by female-fronted bands who really bring the weight.

I’m here first and foremost as a fan tonight: not only hyped by the prospect of seeing Cold in Berlin again for the first time since 2019, but revved by the prospect of Arch Femmesis, who I discovered supporting The Lovely Eggs in May ’22. Their performance struck me and stuck with me, making them an act I vowed to see again whenever the opportunity arose.

Furthermore, this goth Christmas do is a fundraiser for the Sophie Lancaster Foundation. For those unfamiliar, Sophie, aged 20, and her boyfriend were attacked simply for being goths by a bunch of teenage boys, and Sophie would die from her injuries a few days later. It’s one of those things that’s hard to process, and as disparate as the goth / alternative ‘community’ is in such times – and as the range of acts on tonight’s lineup evidences – they prove that there is solidarity among outsiders.

I arrive feeling like I’ve not properly dressed for the occasion – no painted leather jacket, no tassels, no band T-shirt, no winklepickers. I favoured a woollen hat over my Stetson because it’s fucking freezing and I need to cover my ear as well as my hairless head. I console myself with the notion that my resemblance to Andrew Eldritch as he now looks might boost my goth cred. I’m not entirely convinced it does: the place is thick with beards and hair and leather. And I do mean it’s thick… the turnout is impressive for a cold night between Christmas and New Year, a time when a lot of people are away or hibernating or lolling in a festive food coma.

‘We are Flowers of Agony’ announces the guy with glittery makeup and a Siouxsie and the Banshees baseball cap. We? It turns out he has an entire band on his mobile phone, right down to backing vocals. The result is some kind of overwrought synth pop Meatloaf karaoke. Credit where it’s due, it takes some guts to get up there and do that, but… Agony might be a bit harsh, but it was pretty painful.

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Flowers of Agony

Play/Dead are hard to find online amongst the voluminous links to the 80s post-punk act Play Dead, and are very much from the industrial / metal end of the goth spectrum. The singer channels Trent Reznor all the way, and image-wise they’re strong (apart from the lead guitarist, who appears to have just got off work, while shots from previous gigs show him to be suited and booted). The songs are just as strong, and brimming with rage and angst, with programmed drums and sequenced synths interweaving well with the twin-guitar and bass assault. Nihilistic anthem ‘God is Terrorist’ is more Marilyn Manson than Nine Inch Nails, while the penultimate song, ‘Subliminal Messages’ is more Depeche Mode in its template. It’s hard to fault their execution.

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Play/Dead

It’s nigh on impossible to fault Arch Femmesis on any level. The Manchester-based but from Nottingham electro-punk duo can’t be judged by other bands’ standards, because they are something of a unique proposition. Zera Tønin (who featured on ‘Land of the Tyrants’ on the latest album by Benefits) is simultaneously sultry and scary when she’s singing, but sassy and straight-talking between songs, regaling us with details of her menstruation, wind, flatulence and halitosis, and there’s some banter and audience interaction, too. Lyrically, she’s pretty up-front and straightforward, too, and again, not without humour. They’re backed by some pretty hard beats, and by the end of the set they’re pumping hard (the beats, although Zera probably is, too). There’s an element of ‘what have I just witnessed?’ circulating in the post-set buzz, but that’s part of the appeal – that and the fact they were proper bangin’.

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Arch Femmesis

Upbeat trad goths Rhombus have been going since around the turn of the millennium, and have become ubiquitous on the scene during that time, particularly here in Yorkshire. They’ve built quite a following: there are people here tonight who’ve seen them ten, twenty times, and one guy who they hand a certificate for his fiftieth time in attendance. Their formula seems specifically designed for those whose musical credo is ‘I know what I like, and I like what I know’. By way of an example, current single ‘Running From My Shadow’ leans on ‘Walk Away’ by The Sisters of Mercy for intro (that song seems to have become one of the definitive templates for contemporary bands doing the trad goth thing) before going a bit Skeletal Family.

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Rhombus

“Audience… step closer,” instructs bassist / vocalist Edward Grassby. Towering, burly, bearded, behatted, he’s a commanding presence. His addition that the band ‘Won’t come into the crowd, won’t spit beer…’ felt like a rather disparaging dismissal of the previous acts who hadn’t spent beer, but spent considerable time in amongst the punters. And this is where I realise that the band’s personality is a bigger issue than the derivative sound. Well, not the entire band: Lee Talbot’s drumming and Rob Walker’s Simon Hinkler style guitar are outstanding… but Alixandrea Corvyn’s interpretive dance and air drumming detract from her actual singing, and Grassby comes exudes an air of arrogance which far from endearing, and likely a major factor in why I’ve never taken to them. That and the fact they’re called Rhombus. That said, I seem to be in the minority in my view, as there are plenty who are hugely enthusiastic (at least by old goth standards) for them.

Cold in Berlin just keep getting darker and heavier with each release, and tonight’s set draws primarily on the new album, Wounds, and the EP, The Body is the Wound which foreshadowed it – meaning it’s dark and heavy. It’s also absolutely stunning. Maya seems remarkably at ease, and smiles a lot between songs – but during the songs, she emanates a chilling demeanour, a control and intense focus which is utterly petrifying. Often, she ventured out into the crowd, and glides, ghost-like, between the audience members. She’s glacial, while around her, the riffs conjure a devastating maelstrom. This is no better exemplified than when they drop ‘Dream One’: the vocal delivery is icy, stark, the control bordering on psychopathy. The instrumentation is spacious, with air between the suffocating power chords to begin, until everything crashes in and hits with an almost bewildering intensity. There is no ‘White Horse’… but the strength of the nine-song set more than compensates. There isn’t a moment that isn’t like being slammed by a sonic hurricane, and it’s not just because of the pulverising volume.

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Cold in Berlin

Sometimes, you don’t know what you need until you get it. I for one had no idea that what I really needed was a half-tempo rendition of ‘Love Buzz’ to conclude my last outing for beer and live music of 2025, but Cold in Berlin on peak form really outdo themselves: this is absolutely crushing, the slowed-down bass-led riffing so heavy it knocks the air from your lungs. It’s a conclusive pinnacle to a megalithic performance, and the best possible finale to a great night at the end of a great year for live music.

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Cold in Berlin

And to close my last write-up of a live event for the year, a year which has been dominated by Oasis and festivals and immense arena events, I feel compelled to add that having attended a few academy-size events this year, all of the best shows I’ve witnessed – and I’ve been to fifty in all so have enough to benchmark by – the best by far have taken place in sub-500 capacity venues, and there is absolutely no substitute for packing into a tiny place with no barrier and standing close enough to see the whites of their eyes, the sweat beading, the chords played. And tonight encapsulated this perfectly.

Based in the Texan city of San Antonio, darkwave/synth punk artist Night Ritualz (aka Vincent Guerrero IV) weaves deep Latin influences into his songs, blending English and Spanish lyrics with music that combines atmospheric soundscapes suffused with pulse-pounding beats to tell stories that are both deeply personal and universally relatable.
New single ‘Brown Skin’ is the first track to be teased from a new album out in early 2026. An unapologetic expression of identity, struggle and survival, the song blends personal storytelling with social commentary, confronting feelings of displacement, family separation and the weight of heritage. The song lyric is sharp and direct, carried by a vocal delivery that makes every word hit like a protest chant.

“This song is about resilience – working hard every day, facing systems that try to erase you and still standing strong with pride in where you come from,” explains Night Ritualz. “The repetition of the hook and the outro were designed to channel frustration into power, making it both deeply personal and universally relatable.”

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The brainchild of US drummer/multi-instrumentalist Rona Rougeheart, SINE has released a new single entitled ‘Succumb To Me’ on Metropolis Records today. Co-produced by Rougeheart with Curse Mackey (Pigface) and mastered by Mark Pistel (Consolidated, Meat Beat Manifesto), the song mixes industrial sounds with dirty disco and rhythmic sub bass to form the perfect definition of what she refers to as her signature genre, ‘electronic boom’.

“While working on my next album, I decided to open a new session and start something fresh just for fun,” Rougeheart recalls. “As another track began to form, I was really loving the vibe, so I anchored it around two deep synth bass hits that pan right and left to give the listener a surround sound experience, especially in headphones. The lyrics seemed to write themselves as I recorded scratch vocals, just letting it flow. The lyrics are cheeky and a little sinister, with a dash of sex appeal. It’s definitely one of my favourite SINE tunes to date!”

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Mortality Tables – 25th September 2025

Bryan Alka’s brief post on Facebook sharing the news of his new release, is revelatory: ‘Today we release my 5th full length on Mortality Tables. After a series of breakdowns… The Magnitude Weighs Heavy.’

The Magnitude Weighs Heavy is the third and final instalment of a of dark and brooding albums, the first two parts of which – The Colour Of Terrible Crystal and Regarding The Auguries – were released by Vince Clarke’s VeryRecords. Alka, and particularly Bryan Michael, has no small back story: ‘a Philadelphia-area artist who has collaborated with Vince Clarke (Depeche Mode / Erasure / Yazoo), Roger O’Donnell (The Cure), Christian Savill (Slowdive / Monster Movie) and Michael Textbeak (Cleopatra Records). alka was formed around 2000 as a return to his bedroom producing days, and as a cleansing of his disappointing experience within the Philadelphia indie rock scene.’

This thirteen-track album is epic, grand, expansive. It’s also an exercise is taut electropop with a decidedly early 80s bent. Because what goes around comes around, the whipcrack snare and noodly electronic drift which defines many of the tracks, despite being pure 1989, have a contemporary feel, too.

‘Soliloquiy’ drifts into dreamy electro shoegaze, mellow and atmospheric, rippling, and soaked with a certain sadness, however sturdy the beats remain. Elsewhere, as on ‘Creeps; its clearly an attempt to lock things down with pinging robotic beats

This feels like quite departure for Mortality Tables, given their learning toward abstraction an ambience, but they’ve always leaned toward the different, and this is a work which is unashamedly different. ‘Unravel’ is exemplary here: it’s got groove, and is ostensibly a bopping dance cut, and a far cry from the implications of the album title. But everyone deals with trauma, grief, and distress differently, and we all articulate our internal strifes by different means. ‘enchanté’ locks into a hypnotic groove, the likes of which I haven’t been so immersed in since I discovered The Dancing Wu Li Masters by 25 Men back in 2008.

For all that, there are large, ambient expanses, passages of stuttering electro which draw together elements of industrial alongside the layered dance beats. The ten-minute ‘an attempt to conjure quiet’ feels like it’s quite willing to delve deeper into noise, the very opposite of the quiet it claims to seek, and the duration of this album feels like a teetering on edge. I’m reminded of how my late wife would hassle an and harangue over details, over chores, and the tense, jittery tone which leads n this album at times tales me there. But if the dark mutter of ‘thee individual visions ov jhonn’ is dark with resonating melancholia, The Magnitude Weighs Heavy brings things back to the light. ‘Whatever Will Become’ is a hybrid of pop and bubbling electronica, busy but mesmerising in its concentric circles of sound, its abrupt ending jolting the listener back to the moment.

The magnitude may weigh heavy, but this album has a remarkable lightness, delivered with a deftness of touch.

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Dependent Records – 3rd October 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve always favoured words over numbers – meaning, maths was never my strong point, and my qualifications strongly favour the arts. But it doesn’t take a maths genius to deduce that there are some serious numerical gymnastics taking place when conjuring the equation for this release. That Octagram extends the love of the number 8 which is clear from the band’s name to a concept, whereby the album features 8 songs with a playing-time of 8 minutes is logical, but when they try to spin it that ‘when the 8 just turns by a little in the context of the German electro industrial project’s sixth album, it becomes the symbol for infinity’, I’m lost. How does infinity fit in, and how does it all sit with being their sixth album, something which really screws up the whole thematic.

The tracks aren’t all exactly eight minutes in duration, but in the eight-minute span, ranging from 8:11 to 8:58, so it doesn’t feel as if the limitations / constraints of the project are so rigid as to inhibit the creative freedom necessary to explore and interrogate the themes flexibly.

We’ve already aired single cuts ‘New Eden’ and ‘Oathbreaker’ here at Aural Aggravation, and it’s fair to say they’re representative of this expansive, ambitious effort. It’s electronic industrial, with expansive, ambient trance elements woven in, as well as sampled snippets of dialogue. It’s perhaps worth noting that the vocal samples consist mainly of recitations quoting the last words of persons that were about to receive the death sentence. It’s all there on the sweeping, cinematic, dark electronic dance opener, ‘The Unborn’. In terms of texture and production, it’s absolutely meticulous, but a bit predictable and of a form. Three minutes or so in, the tone and tempo changes, the atmosphere darkens and the beats get harder, and the gritty, distorted vocals finally arrive and while it’s still quintessential technoindustrial / dark electro, the switch makes the song work in terms of structure and dynamics. And this seems to the strength to which FÏX8:SËD8 play to on Octagram, blending the trancey ambient dance elements with the driving hard-edged aspects of the genre.

Skinny Puppy are an obvious touchstone, to which they themselves draw attention, they seem to have assimilated the entirety of the Wax Trax! catalogue, while pulling from all aspects of cybergoth, and even Tubular Bells to forge a hypnotic hybrid of techno, electronica, dance, and industrial, taking a number of cues from Ministry’s Twitch. It’s true that I often return to the same sources: Wax Trax!, KMFDM, Skinny Puppy, 80s Ministry… but I feel I should stress that this isn’t entirely a reflection of my limited sphere of reference, but the two inches of ivory on which so much of the electronic industrial scene carves its tales of angst. The use of samples does feel rather cliché, the way the beats build behind fuzzy synths which ebb and slow, the minor-key one-finger synth riffs… And that’s fine: you know what you’re going to get. But at least with Octagram, FÏX8:SËD8 push that envelope a bit.

If ‘New Eden’ represents the more accessible side of all this, ‘Blisters’ goes in hard. ‘Tyrants’, too, brings a heavy Industrial throb with a dominant percussion, led by a powerful bin-lid smash of a snare sound. With the distorted vocals low in the mix, it’s tense, it’s intense, it’s claustrophobic. Taking its title from one of my favourite phrases from Milton, ‘Darkness Visible’ brings an interlude of cinematic serenity, at least initially, before locking into another dark pulsing groove. The darkness has rarely been more visible.

‘An Unquiet Mind’ makes for a slow-simmering, brooding finale, cinematic, atmospheric, expansive, as synth layers and beats build, rising from a montage of samples to stretch out an almost post-apocalyptic landscape. It feels like the end… and it is.

The best electronic industrial has an intensely inward focus, and makes you feel tense, restricted, somehow, and as much as it draws on obvious influences, with its taut, claustrophobic feel and dense production, Octagram sits – shuffling, twitching, crackling with anxiety – with the best electronic industrial.

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US dark/dream-pop duo Magic Wands have released a new digital double single today that couples the brand new song ‘Time To Dream’ with a remix by Metropolis Records labelmates Lost Signal of their ‘Armour’ single issued in October 2024. Video clips of the original version of ‘Armour’ and the remix have also been made available and can be seen here (original)….

…and here (remix):

“‘Time To Dream’ is about entering a dreamlike state where the boundaries between reality and imagination dissolve,” the duo explain. “It was inspired by magic and a sense of stepping through the looking glass.”
‘Time To Dream’ is included on a new Magic Wands album entitled ‘Cascades’, which is out on 24th October via Metropolis Records. It also includes the original single version of ‘Armour’, as well as the previously issued ‘Hide’, ‘Moonshadow’ and ‘Across The Water’ . It will be promoted with an appearance at the Substance festival HERE in Los Angeles on 7th November, with further shows to be arranged.

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Magic Wands is a dark-pop duo originally formed in Nashville by guitarists and vocalists Dexy and Chris Valentine. Now based in Los Angeles, they are known for their shimmering and dreamy sound, which incorporates elements of shoegaze, dream pop, post-punk and goth. They utilise heavily textured guitars, synth drones and ethereal vocals to conjure an otherworldly atmosphere in their songs.

Dedicated to creating music that is both imaginative and emotionally engaging, Magic Wands found success soon after forming in 2008, gaining a loyal fanbase that has grown ever since. They have issued five studio albums to date, the most recent of which is ‘Switch’ (2023). Its songs were also remixed by guest artists and released as ‘Switched’ later that year.

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“I Am The Song Stuck On Repeat… I Am The Fear” warns frontman Adam Houghton, his baritone oozing with its trademark ominousness.

But rest assured listeners, there’s nothing to worry about. Piled high with oscillating synth strokes, meteoric basslines, and stacked guitar tones, ‘I Am The Fear’ is a single from the Manchester band that more than bears repeating.

The track arrives with an artistic official video directed and edited by Black Rock Creative and produced by Tom White & Mat Peters. Captured amidst the crumbling surroundings of a Victorian theatre, it features a captivating performance from actor Oliver Marson, alongside on stage footage of IST IST.

Confident and catchy, ‘I Am The Fear’ arrives as the band’s first new recorded material since 2024’s Light A Bigger Fire. Produced by Joseph Cross and mastered by Robin Schmitt, it marks yet another bold step forward for a band who demand your attention more with everything they put their name to.

With the promise of a new album looming, standby for further news on that front very soon…

Watch ‘I Am The Fear’ here:

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Over the years, IST IST have forged a formidable reputation on word of mouth excitement, amassing a dedicated cult following in the process. Operating with a fierce northern DIY work ethic, the band have an ever-growing back catalogue of successful studio and live releases. Self-releasing their entire repertoire through their own Kind Violence Records label, the band’s output has been championed by BBC Radio 1 and BBC 6Music, Radio X, XS Manchester, KINK FM in the Netherlands, The Times and more.

Their acclaimed fourth record ‘Light A Bigger Fire’ reached 25th in the UK Official Album Charts in 2024, with John Robb praising the record as “glorious yet introspective 21st-century pop music” in a five star review on Louder Than War.

Taking the record out on the road last year, over 8,000 people across thirteen countries turned out in force at iconic venues such as the Paradiso in Amsterdam and New Century Hall in Manchester to support the band in what stands as one of their most successful European tours to date.

Riding this wave into 2025, IST IST returned to Europe for further dates including their SOLD OUT debut Italian shows, and subsequently released two live albums ‘ON FIRE’ and ‘Live In Italy’. The band are book-ending this year with a run of major shows back in the UK – in Leeds, Glasgow, London, and Birmingham across late November and December – as they celebrate their 10th year in business.

And in the last few weeks, IST IST announced their biggest hometown show to date. In 2026, the band will play the salubrious Albert Hall show; a show that presents both an unmissable opportunity to revel in the career high points of their decade long career, while getting a glimpse of their eagerly awaited new album.

Catch IST IST at the following UK shows:

IST IST – 2025/26 TOUR DATES

Friday 28th November – Leeds – Warehouse

Saturday 29th November – Glasgow – Oran Mor

Friday 5th December – London – 229

Saturday 6th December – Birmingham – O2 Academy2

Friday 1st May 2026 – Manchester – Albert Hall

w/ Support from DESPERATE JOURNALIST + THE YOUTH PLAY

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Darkwave band, RELIGION OF HEARTBREAK delivers Lunate, a four-track EP blending detached romanticism with pounding EBM rhythms.

Mikal Shapiro and Dedric Moore perfect their dark disco formula across tracks like "Love Tourniquet" and "100 Degrees," creating ideal soundtracks for fog-drenched nightclubs. Desire becomes ritual and heartbreak transforms into dancefloor salvation.

The EP moves from intense desire to late night reflections replicating a night on the town filled with highs and lows and back. It is an honest look at the thrill of our night club experiences that end in reflection of what could have been.

As a taster, they’ve released a visualizer for the title track. Check it here:

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Nocturnal Rainbow Recordings – 5th September 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

One significant downside to digital music formats is that is reduces the dimensions of the experience. With a record, and even a CD, there is a physicality which is in many ways integral to the experience. I’m not here to sell the whole multi-sensory experience and tactility of vinyl line: yes, I grew up with vinyl, and in the 90s, a new LP was maybe £7.50 while a CD was £11, so I would often buy vinyl simply because I could get more music for my money. And records do scratch, sleeves get bent, and generally, vinyl requires more care than a CD, so I’m as much a fan of 5” silver discs as I am 12” black ones. And now, vinyl has become something of a fetishised luxury item: as much as there’s still pleasure to be had from sliding a thick chunk of wax cast in whatever hues from a glossy, heavy card sleeve, there’s sometimes a sense that they’re all trying too hard, and the £30 price tag takes some of the shine off the experience. There are a few exceptions – recent Swans releases have been works of art in every sense, and the physical formats have added essential dimensions to music which is something more than just some songs, recorded.

Had Ran Slavin’s latest offering been given a vinyl release, it would have been a triple LP, containing as it does thirty tracks, with a running time of almost two hours. It would have been epic. But despite having released previous albums on esteemed labels including Mille Plateaux, Cronica, and Sub Rosa, it’s unlikely that Ran Slavin has the kind of fan base that could justify, from a label perspective, a triple-vinyl release. But what Nocturnal Rainbow Recordings have done here is interesting, and utilises the digital format in a novel way, by offering alternative artwork in recognition of the album’s multi-faceted nature. Yes, it’s been done by major artists who’ve released physical albums with variant covers, with a view to enticing hardcore fans to buy multiple copies and thus increase sales and enhance the chart position (The Rolling Stones’ Hackney Diamonds probably wins the award for the pinnacle of pisstake on this score), but the idea of buying an alternative digital cover for a nominal price isn’t something I’ve seen before.

As the notes on the Bandcamp page explain, ‘Just as the music migrates across genres, the visuals migrate across states of being, extending the album into a network of parallel identities. Together, they construct a fragmented yet coherent cosmos, where each image is both an entrance and a deviation, multiplying the ways Neon Swans can be seen, heard, and inhabited.’

Appropriately, Neon Swan doesn’t quite sound like anything I’ve heard before, either. To unpack that, it contains many elements which are common and familiar. There’s sparse techno, minimal dance cuts with sped-up vocals and swathes of space between low-key beats and glitchy grooves, as represented by single release and album opener ‘tell///me///now’ – one of many titles which reflect the sense of fragmentation and juxtaposition which define the album (‘s4dert1ac’ and ‘d3xr3rity’ provide other examples, but then there are the likes of which also disrupt the conventions of language in the same way Slavin disrupts the language of genre tropes).

‘audio ease my pain’ plunges into darker territory, while introducing rap vocals atop heavy hip-hop beats (although there’s an instrumental version as well further on, which offers a different perspective again on the same material). Elsewhere, ‘c-r-i-m-s-o-n-schema’ brings spacey, spaced-out bleeps, heavy percussion that has a late 90s feel, a blend of The Judgement Night soundtrack’s melding of rap and rock, and the Wu-Tang Clan.

For all of the space, the reverb, the minimalism, something about tracks like ‘searching_heart’ is quite claustrophobic: the intense repetition and synthetic feel, paired with crackling fizz, brain-melting glitches and some grinding bass tones. It may be constructed using the fundamental elements of dance music, but this is not dance music. Electronic music to induce uncontrolled spasms and twitches isn’t a genre, but if it was, Ran Slavin would be a leading exponent.

It’s a long album, with a lot to digest, and as it thumps and wobbles and glitches away, snippets and fragments collaged across one another, there are times it all feels a but much, a bit bewildering. At times it’s draining, exhausting, at times you simply zone out, and often, I find myself questioning the wisdom of persisting with it. The vibe is that of the kind of underground clubs I never got on with in the 90s and early 00s, and I’m particularly reminded of the time Whitehouse played an Optimo night in Glasgow in 2003: I was there for Whitehouse, who played for forty minutes starting around midnight, and the music being played was rather in the vein of the more groove-centric cuts on here. The people there for the DJs weren’t happy for the low-key electro pulsations to be paused for the noise and antics of Bennett and Best, but for my part, I struggled to get into the low-key electro pulsations. But the other reason I recount this experience, challenging in its incongruousness, is that in places, Neon Swans feels incongruous with itself, an album riven with unreconciled contradictions.

The execution of Neon Swans is hard to fault, and it does cover considerable ground, with range, over its expansive duration. But it is sprawling in its scope, its focus is variable, and it is very long. And it’s maybe better with drugs.

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