Posts Tagged ‘EP’

Chicago-based dark synth / industrial artist Tatv Gral (ˈtätü ˈgräl) announces the release of the Treachery EP, a new remix EP featuring the original version of the ‘Treachery’ single, produced by William Faith at 13 Studio, alongside exclusive remixes by DSTR (Daniel Myer of Haujobb), Tweaker (Chris Vrenna of NIN), and fellow Chicago underground denizens, [melter]. The EP is released on 6 July 2026, with presales available on Bandcamp now. The EP release is also flanked by the new video for the DSTR remix of the track, following on the heels of the video for the original single version in June.

Thematically, ‘Treachery’ emerged from a chance encounter that led Tatv Gral’s Allen Addington deeper into the symbolic world of Hellenistic astrology, as Addington explains: “It was a discovery in the ancient texts that unlocked the whole song – both Saturn and Mars independently carry the signification of ‘Treachery’, translated directly from the Ancient Greek. Two malefic forces, each already marked by betrayal, meeting in the same charged space. Following Richard Tarnas and James Hillman, I wanted to explore that archetypal collision phenomenologically – the Old Man and the Young Man, bondage and erotic force – seen through a gay male gaze and the cinematic shadow world of William Friedkin’s Cruising.”

Drawing on the archetypal psychology of James Hillman, who argued that images arising from the psyche carry their own intelligence and must not be immediately moralized, Tatv Gral uses music as a container for difficult energies rather than a platform to promote them. This approach places ‘Treachery’ in a lineage that runs through Coil’s ritual electronics, Kenneth Anger’s astrologically-timed film workings, and the Jungian shadow work that informs all of them. The queer lens is not incidental: it is the specific viewpoint through which these archetypal forces become visible.

Musically, Tatv Gral draws on the colder edges of industrial, EBM and dark electronic music, combining mechanical rhythms, claustrophobic textures and cinematic tension with an emotionally exposed vocal approach. Coil’s occult philosophy as genuine practice is at the centre of Tatv Gral’s frame of reference, while other influences range from Chicago’s industrial lineage via WAX TRAX! Records, through to the brutalist intersection of early British and German electronic music, shaped by the severity of Kraftwerk and DAF, while also maintaining a distinctly personal and contemporary perspective.

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22nd May 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Black Leather Birds – the musical vehicle of A.G. Syjuco, based in Chicago, IL., like so many projects, began during the pandemic. Unlike so many projects, Syjuco has not only kept things going, but remained incredibly prolific.

He describes this new five-tracker, of Children and Their Sorceries, as ‘a deliberate piece of work — heavy on atmosphere and slow-building tension. Themes of anxiety and existential dread run throughout, handled with a literary sensibility that places spoken word, prose poetry, and ritual chant alongside more conventional song structures’.

Straight from the off, it’s heavy and intense. A thick, grinding bass greets us – that is to say, it churns our guts out – and a back-and-forth spoken word dialogue paints a bleak scene. The mellow breakdowns between verses include vinyl crackles and a low ache of nostalgia, before that heavy grind returns twice as heavy, twice as dense, and twice as ugly. In combining elements of Beat-influenced spoken word, trip-hop, and industrial, ‘Nothing Ever Grows Here’ makes for a dizzying and hard-hitting first four minutes.

At just over a minute, ‘Monster’ is but an interlude, but it’s a dark one, which culminates with crashing, crushing beats reminiscent of Dälek, and it segues into the narrative-centred ‘The Box’, a piece where noise rock meets spoken word. It’s actually been a while since I heard anything so narrative-orientated. More than anything, I’m reminded of Enablers – the words are first and foremost, and the atmosphere is tense, and there is noise, and there’s a certain sense of a duel for dominance between the words and the accompaniment. There are elements of jazz and noise rock and post-punk bubbling and jostling away behind Syjuco’s nonchalant narrative, which at times spins some pretty grim imagery – grimagery, even, if you’re so inclined (and I am). I’m also reminded of the smart-witted spoken word of King Missile, only with less of the sassy wordplay.

This is some pretty dark, bleak shit. ‘Almost’ is the most conventionally song-structured piece of the set, and ventures into industrial territory, with mechanical whirrs and dark electronic sounds, not to mention thudding mechanised beats, before the slow, melancholic ‘Goodnight My Darling’ lowers the curtain on this visionary work with a sadness that’s difficult to define. But sad it is.

of Children and Their Sorceries is inspired and inspiring: it’s wide-ranging, and straddles numerous genres. I have no idea where to locate it – but it’s good. And that’s what you need to know.

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The Los Angeles-based riot grrrl/punk band Sour Tongue fuse hardcore punk, country, grunge and disco, utilising humour and a degree of sonic absurdity to convey a deeper message of angst and desperation.

Formed in 2020 by Satori Marill and John Murphy, they have issued several singles collected together on two EPs, the most recent being Final Girl (July 2025). A story in four songs/parts, it is about the intersection of grief, betrayal and heartbreak, but loving throughout. It’s dark, angry, funny and heartbreaking, like a horror comedy.

A video for song/part 3, ‘Me-Mania’, has been issued to coincide with the announcement of a Sour Tongue live date at the Belasco Theater in Los Angeles on 20th June. It sees them open a Summer School show that also features Honey Revenge, South Arcade, Winona Fighter and more.

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Final Girl also includes the bright and breezy single ‘I Thought You Liked Me!’, which was written about an experience felt by most girls. “It’s about being manipulated and lied to, getting fed up and reversing the roles,” states vocalist Marill. “I think anyone who has ever had their heart broken and done something stupid in return can relate to it.”

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22nd March 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

After an eon evolving their sound with comparatively little to show in terms of releases, Teleost have really picked up the pace of late: Three Originals was released in January 2025, followed by ATAVISM in December of last year, and here we are barely three months on faced with a new eponymous EP. Clearly, they concentrate their mental energy into the music rather than the naming of their EPs – and rightly so. The title is inconsequential: the music is what this is all about. moreover, what this, and what Teleost are all about, is exploring those dark tones and the ways in which frequencies resonate against one another, particularly at volume.

Live shows – particularly of late – have more than attested to the necessity for volume for Teleost, in the same was as is true for Earth, and Sunn O))). The simple fact is that some sounds, some frequencies, some resonant interplays, simply cannot occur at low volumes. Anyone who suggests that these bands – and Swans and A Place to Bury Strangers, among others – exploit volume gratuitously simply doesn’t understand the way in which vibrations change things. Teleost, however, very much do. And with their ultra-slow doom-drone, this is a band who really go into microcosmic detail when it comes to tonal shifts and reverberations within their great wall of sound.

This – their second EP, and sixth release in all – features three tracks. And once again, epic is the word. The four-and-three-quarter-minute sludgefest that is ‘Palanquin’ feels like a brief bridging piece between the megalithic ten-minute ‘Navigator’ and the eight-minute ‘Standing Stone’. And holy shit, is this heavy.

With Telost, the guitar has always been heavy, thick, grinding, the sound more akin to two guitars – or more – grinding out a speaker-shredding tsunami. But this… this takes it up several notches. It’s not just the guitar sound itself, of course: the production achieves the rare feat of capturing not just the rib-rattling, lung-shredding sound of a duo that take Melvins’ reattenuation of Black Sabbath to a skull-crushing level of pain.

With Teleost, there’s a clear sense of structure, of linear progression, too. ‘Navigator’ starts out gently, a textured hum, a buzzing drone, clean strings strummed but resonating. Low tom beats enter the mix and the build is slow, deliberate. Leo Hancil’s vocals reverberate – detached, a pagan-like incantation low in the mix. The suspense builds. Dissonance chimes, but still we traverse through deep fog and mud-thick tracks. And then at five minutes, it hits. And it hits so hard but so sweetly. The impact is immense. THAT is a riff, and how to land it. It completely knocks the air from your lungs, then proceeds to tear your limbs off, one by one, while shredding your skin with blunt but brutal claws.

How two people can create this organ-bustingly megalithic noise is unfathomable. But they do, time and again, growing ever more immense with each show, and with each recording. Yes, I say it every time, but every time, it’s true: Teleost have transcended to another echelon with this release: denser, heavier, louder, more punishing – and at the same time more immersive and transportative.

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17th February 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

Decent news is hard to come by these days – by which I mean for the last five or six years. During the pandemic, every day was a nightmare, as the graphs and charts and rolling death toll was beamed into our homes via every available channel. A lot of people simply switched off and went to the greatest lengths to avoid any form of news media at this time, but for many of us, it became a compulsion, an addiction we couldn’t kick even while fully cognisant that it was fucking us up.

It seemed that dark shit was building up under lockdown, and the moment restrictions were lifted, Russia invaded Ukraine, and not that long after, al hell broke loose in Gaza, and then Trump ‘won’ a second term in office. The entire globe has lost the plot. But snippets of decent news do filter through occasionally, like the arrest of The Artist Formerly Known as Prince Andrew, and former US Ambassador, the Former Prince of Darkness, Peter Mendelson. We can only hope this is the beginning of a toppling of a much, much bigger house of cards.

In other decent news, we have the arrival of Computer, an EP by US industrial metal act Decent News, and ten years and three albums into their career, they seem to be absolutely thriving on this fucked-up state of affairs. Perhaps ‘thriving’ isn’t quite the word, but as the accompanying notes summarise, ‘Computer, as a whole. is largely inspired by the current state of the world. The same generation that taught us to not believe everything we read on the internet somehow keeps believing everything they read on the internet and is therefore, making the world a far worse place.’ We’re on the same page on this.

The five tracks on Computer are pretty wild: the first of these, ‘Flesh for the Feast’, which addressed the topic of ‘being brutalized while trying to exercise your right to protest’ blends sequenced backing elements and robotix vocals with squalling guitars, powerhouse percussion, and raw, raging hollering, and it all blasts in at a hundred miles an hour. ‘Drowned in Power’ is harsh and metallic, inviting comparisons to PIG at their gnarliest industrial metal points, but with the raging anger cranked to the max. While the lyrics aren’t often decipherable, it’s clear that this is the voice of protest. ‘Help Computer’ continues in the same vein, bringing the pumping energy of KMFDM.

After the slow, slow-slung bluesy sleazer that is ‘Bloated & Blue’, ‘Valueless Trade’ swaggers in on a ballsy bass groove and a mess of guitar noodling and samples before hitting an overdriven riff-centric blast that straddles hardcore and metal.

Pretty, it is not. Blunt and hard-hitting, it is. Decent news for everyone who isn’t a fan of insipid sonic chewing gum or a right-wing wanksack.

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24th February 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

It may only be February, but 2026 is looking like the year of the long-threatened goth renaissance. It’s been bubbling for a while, with first-wave bands like Red Lorry Yellow Lorry releasing new material for the first time in decades late last year, as well as second wave names such as Corpus Delicti making strong comebacks. And what’s noticeable is that their audiences don’t consist entirely of old bastards who’ve been adherents of the scene since the 80s: on recent ventures to see Corpus Delicti and Skeletal Family – whose current singer, it has to be said, is considerably younger than the rest of the band – I’ve witnessed first-hand a substantial proportion of the audience represented by under thirties, even under twenty-fives and teens – and they’re getting into the dressing up, the hair and makeup, too. Why? A vaguely educated guess based on observation and an A-Level in Sociology taken just over thirty years ago suggests that there are a number of factors involved here: what goes around comes around – this always happens – with an element of kids raiding their parents’ music collections or otherwise becoming nostalgic for the music they heard growing up (thanks to my parents, I have records by Barbara Dixon and Phil Collins, although I drew the trauma line at Steeleye Span and The Bee Gees) – and also the times in which we live. Depression, oppression… post-punk and the substrain that would become goth emerged from pretty bleak times – and we once again find ourselves in bleak times, bleaker, if anything. We no longer live under the shadow of the bomb as we did during the Cold War. Instead, we live in a world at war, a world where AI is taking over in a way that resembles the maddest sci-for dystopia, and where the prospects of work and home ownership for those finishing school and college are nothing short of abysmal.

It’s not all gloom and doom, though, because… no, wait. It is, but Licorice Chamber are coming through on the emerging wave of bleak bands to provide a fitting soundrack to existential mopery.

Licorice Chamber perhaps isn’t the greatest band name ever, but it’s in keeping with the latest influx of goth and goth-adjacent acts like Just Mustard (and also reminds me of Fudge Tunnel), and since band names are inherently stupid by nature if you pause and reflect on it in any depth – dissect any band name and conclude that it’s not at least vaguely stupid, is my challenge – it’s fair to let it ride. After all, it’s the music that matters.

On Remnants, Licorice Chamber serve up three brooding slices of classic contemporary goth which are thematically linked under the banner of the EP’s title, as they explain: “The EP title Remnants suggests aftermath, what survives destruction. Rather than romanticizing despair, the songs feel like they’re exploring what’s left when illusions fall away.”

‘Feign’, the first of these three cuts, is magnificently understated, a mid-tempo song that’s as much about the space between the sound of the instruments as the instruments themselves, and while there’s a heap of reverb around everything, something in the production calls to mind the quiet flatness of The Cure’s Seventeen Seconds. But the backed-off drums and fractal guitars serve to place Layla Reyna’s powerful, emotive vocals to the fore.

Heavy by name and heavy by nature, the second song packs a far greater density, a cinematic rock workout, which builds to a climactic finale and finds Layla floating majestic through a sonic maelstrom.

The final cut, ‘Never the Same’, is the longest of the three, and is a slow-burner rendered more kinetic by some busy drumming moments, and with its picked guitar and dark atmospherics, it finds Licorice Chamber inching into the kind of territory occupied by doom / goth acts like Cold in Berlin and Cwfen – and that’s not simply a case of lumping heavy bands with female vocalists into a bracket together: there’s positive commonality here.

Remnants is dark, but bold, and in its own way, uplifting.

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r-ecords – 19th December 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

A crackle of static washes in and obfuscates the murky bass and beats which begin to emerge. It’s a strange experience, like listening to a tune while under water. Over time, this shifts: hypnotic beats with clicking, cracking snares and low, thwocking bass drum sounds cut through the curtain of hiss which hangs like heavy rain. And so it is that ‘Waiting for nothing’, the first of the three compositions on R. Schappert’s Hellherz EP. It’s an intriguing piece, layered and unpredictable and multi-faceted.

In context of his bio, which informs us that ‘Roland Schappert pursues border crossings in the form of an “organic digitality” oscillating between melos, sound and rhythm’.

The EP’s accompanying notes are somewhat winding, kind of cryptic: ‘Where do we put all the words that held us captive? We put them in a bottle post and send them out into the open sea. Back on land, there is fluttering in the space of spaces. Corners and edges crumble away in tumultuous layers. Let us take the time that the melos urges us to take, let us entrust him with our voice.

Sensually coded sequences of notes disrupt the free flow of our thoughts. Cranes hop and counter common notions of progress. Hopping instead of marching. Jumping instead of stomping. Up into the sky. From 3/4 to 4/4 time and back again. With hissing and quiet humming. Do we like it better up here? Where do we come from, where are we flying to for the winter? No more getting lost: Wrap your words. Our hearts are light.’

It appears that much of this is cultivated around the EP’s centrepiece, ‘Wrap your words’, the credits for which draw my attention in a way which imbues me with a certain unease:

Lyrics by R. Schappert

Vocals: revised AI voice

AI’s ubiquity is cause for concern in itself, and the reasons for this are a thesis in themselves. But specifically, given the way AI trains itself, voluntarily feeding it words to recycle and regurgitate feels like an abandonment of artistic ownership. When William Burrroughs cut up existing texts in order to form new ones, he questioned the notion that anyone ‘owned’ words, contending that the act of writing was simply the selection and manipulation of words in differing sequences. But this is not the same challenge of ownership and methods of creativity, because the application of AI serves to remove the artist from the process, partially or even wholly. Moreover, while AI is being used for military and medical purposes (and fears over where that may lead again are another thesis worth of debate at least), in the day-to-day, AI for the everyman seems to be about creative applications. Personally, I would rather AI did my admin and cleaned the oven in order to give me more time for creative pursuits. The idea that an artist would delegate any part of their creative work to AI is something which I find truly bewildering. Yes, there are skills we may lack, but the joy of art, in any medium – is learning those skills, or collaborating with other creatives to fill those skills gaps. There are real people with real skills, and working with them and learning from them is how we grow as artists.

So, AI voice? Why? Why not find a vocalist? Why not even apply autotune to a real vocal if that’s the desired effect? The warbling, autotuned-sounding digital vocalisations sound pretty naff, if truth be told, and add little to a tune which clops and thuds along with some retro synth sounds hovering vaguely around a beat which stutters along in soft focus. But as I listen, the whole AI vocal thing gnaws at me: has AI been utilised, uncredited, to the instrumentation too? What can we trust, what can we believe now?

The title track draws the EP to a close, with some brooding, quavering organ sounds and glitchy beats and more static, returning things full-circle before an abrupt end. It’s atmospheric, and a shade unsettling, too.

It may be brief, but there are many layers to this. As a whole, Hellherz provides much to ponder.

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Puerto Rican trio Ender announces their upcoming EP, Ender II: In Silent Throne, scheduled for 20 February 2026 via Praetorian Records. As the first preview from the EP, the San Juan group is now streaming “The Obelisk,” a track that deviates from their progressive doom foundation by embracing a sharper, tech-death-leaning intensity. Exploring themes of sorrow, defiance, and personal struggle, the EP represents not only their growth as musicians but also their commitment to pushing the boundaries of progressive doom and giving back to the metal scene that continues to inspire them.

Of the track, Ender states: “‘The Obelisk’ is a song about the collapse of faith, confronting what happens when something once sacred becomes corrupted. It reflects the tension between devotion and disillusionment, a theme that runs through the core of our forthcoming EP, In Silent Throne. Musically, it captures who Ender is at this moment: heavy, emotional, and unafraid to explore darkness through sound. This track marks the first step into the atmosphere and intensity that define the new era of the band.”

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Ender band photo by Christian Reyes

SLAUGHTERDAY let loose their new grindcore tribute EP Terrified today, on November 21, 2025. The German death metal veterans are dedicating this EP to the original firestarters of grindcore.

SLAUGHTERDAY commented: “This EP differs stylistically from our regular releases, because it is a tribute to the old grind bands like Repulsion and Napalm Death, which is also reflected in the cover and the logo”, guitarist Jens Finger wrote. “Of course, this immediately brings to mind Repulsion’s title ‘Horrified’ – which was exactly our intention. Every track is a short, sharp attack on the ears. What you hear is what you’ll get: bursts of explosive energy, razor-sharp riffs, and relentless rhythms – uncompromising and unrestrained!”

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On their Terrified EP, death metal aficionados SLAUGHTERDAY deliver four short sharp chops as a tribute to the early pioneers of grindcore. This EP should therefore be regarded as a crushing interlude between two albums rather than a foretaste of brutal things to come on their next full-length.

Great Old Ones, forbidden sounds, tentacled death metal is rising… the German death metal powerhouse comes with a pedigree that amounts to nobility in the northwestern corner of their country.

SLAUGHTERDAY were formed in the East Frisian city of Leer in 2010. The original and still remaining core duo consists of string-shredder Jens Finger, who served as the guitarist of Oldenburgian death metal legends OBSCENITY from 1994 until 2010 and is also the growler of new label mates TEMPLE OF DREAD. The other half of the duo is personified by vocalist and drummer Bernd Reiners, who has also lent his voice to Aurich based death thrashers BK 49 among other acts.

From the start, SLAUGHTERDAY have channelled the raw, morbid spirit of such old school giants as AUTOPSY, DEATH, and MASSACRE. Yet while they always deliver crushing riffs and brutal pounding, these Germans come with captivating choruses and haunting melodies that set them apart from many of their deadly peers.

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The US electro-industrial act genCAB have returned with a single entitled ‘Open Grave’ on Metropolis Records. A dancefloor confession that digs into a narrative of self-sabotage and quiet collapse, it demands to be heard as much as it begs to be ignored.

“The song explores the decay of our own undoing. I’m a self destructive person, and ‘Open Grave’ is about lying in my own mess that I create for myself,” explains group founder David Dutton. “Most of the advice we get is to keep our inner pain hidden and so we isolate further. So, here it is for everyone else to hear, whenever they feel like hearing it. This track is more accessible than some of my past work, and I think it complements a message that is universal. At the end of the day, sometimes life is as simple as a dance track and an easy outlet to lose yourself. Who knows what’s left when you tear yourself apart, but at least it’s an honest practice.”

The first new music by genCAB in 2025, ‘Open Grave’ has been made available together with an ‘Unsolved Remix’ by labelmate Lost Signal and a cover version of ‘Last’, a 1992 song by Nine Inch Nails.

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