Posts Tagged ‘Stoneburner’

Darkwave duo, Johnathan|Christian return with ‘Where Do We Go From Here’—a brooding, cinematic post-election anthem that captures the emotional wreckage of a divided nation. The track opens in hushed reflection (90 BPM) and erupts into a 125 BPM pulse of unrest and reluctant clarity. No slogans. Just aftermath.

The video integrates footage from Maya Deren’s At Land—a woman lies on a beach, disoriented yet unbroken, before rising with quiet resolve. What begins in poetic isolation transforms into documentary collapse: flickering headlines, divided families, shuttered classrooms, and hands reaching—but not always finding. It opens with: “We Still Remain.” It ends with: “WE STILL RISE.”

“We didn’t want spectacle—we wanted aftermath,” says the band. “No fire. No fury. Just a reckoning in the ruins.”

Included in the release are: a 125 BPM DJ Edit for live mixing and DJ sets, and remixes by industrial supergroup, The Joy Thieves and Stoneburner’s Steven Archer. Also included is the track, ‘Fall from Grace’ – a short, ghostly instrumental layered with static and decay; a requiem for what was, and a reflection on what remains.

For fans of Peter Murphy, Human Drama, Laibach, New Order, and politically-driven dance stompers.

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5th March 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Steven Archer has been keeping busy: it’s barely three months since he landed the latest Stoneburner release, with its glorious Foetus-inspired cover art, not to mention a brace of EPs late last year, and a and lo, we have an album of steaming-hot brand new material. I often marvel at artists like this, who are so prolific. Do they even sleep? I do get that creativity is something that, more often than not, simply hits and you have to run with it, but…

Brittle is a twisted mix of all sorts. First and foremost, it’s an electronic album, and one which leans toward darker territories – not in an aggressive or overtly industrial way, but more given to brooding, introspection, haunting reflection and melancholia.

‘Our Past is a Wasteland’ is a track which transitions and evolves as it progresses: initially, it’s kinda smooth, a bit epic, sedate in in its musical form, with soft synths and mellow beats presenting a low-temp dance vibe, but along the way it begins to develop a darker, harder edge, gets a bit more Depeche Mode. The gentle drift of ‘Tenuous Place’ steps into expansive mode toward the end, exuding anguish and pangs of pain. ‘Only the Young Die Good’ is decidedly heavier: a droning organ gives way to a twitchy drum ‘n’ bass beat and serrated synths that saw deep into the psyche.

With its piano-led instrumentation and popping drums, ‘The Human Void’ is bleak and expansive, dark electropop rubbing and against drifting ambience with sinister industrial undercurrents as the backdrop to a vocal that switches from almost spoken word to hypnotic repetition. Elsewhere, ‘Tiger Longitues’ shares borders with the kind of smoky trip-hop of Portishead, only heavier, bassier, beatier.

The vocals on Brittle are heavily processed, and there’s a strong technogoth feel to the album as a whole. There’s something of a juxtaposition here, in that lyrically, emotional turmoil and troubling psychological situations are the main focus. Yet, in contrast to the intense and personal nexus of the words, the processed feel, which diminishes the human aspect of the vocal delivery, renders a clear separation. Perhaps this is a part of a necessary distancing: it’s certainly easier to manage challenging personal matters by creating layers of separation, and a deliberate detachment. ‘A Love Song for Monsters’ is exemplary: it’s a straight-up stomping banger, with robotix vocals and a slick production, but there’s so much more beneath the surface.

On the surface, Brittle sounds anything but: with sturdy beats and throbbing basslines, it’s a set which concentrates on delivering dark bangers. But however much we lay ourselves bare, we tend to need for there to be some kind of buffer, some space in between, in the interests of self-preservation. Most of us are more fragile, more delicate, more brittle, than we are comfortable to admit, even through the most forthright of art.

Brittle is uncomfortable, pulling in different directions, the undercurrent dragging against the main current on the surface. But the tension at its core is what renders it so compelling. Take in the tension, let it course through you.

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COP International – 31st December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

The adage that you should never judge a book by its cover is a nonsense, and certainly doesn’t apply to records. I was instantly drawn to Stoneburner’s ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’ for its referencing – by which I mean almost direct lifting – of the artwork for the Foetus All Nude Review ‘Bedrock’ 12”, one of JG Thirlwell’s first forays into the ‘big band’ swing sound back in 1987.

It transpires they’ve got form: previous releases ape the fourth Foetus album, Nail, as well as Big Black’s Atomizer, and no doubt other releases reference things I’m unfamiliar with, as it’s impossible to know everything within another’s sphere of reference, and Stoneburner have released a hell of a lot in a comparatively short time. But I always maintain there’s more honour in being up-front in acknowledging one’s influences than trying to hide them, and have all the admiration for Stoneburner for their unashamed referencing. By now, we all know – or should know – that there’s nothing news, so better to front up and embrace the fact instead of feebly proclaiming artistic innovation.

The solo project of Steven Archer, best known for his work with the electronic rock band Ego Likeness, as well has is abstract electronica project ::Hopeful Machines::, he’s one of those creatives who simply gushes new material.

For ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’, Archer has enlisted Rodney Anonymous, Matt Fanale, and Mark Alan Miller, and it’s something of a departure from the majority of the Stoneburner catalogue, which, while very much given to industrial leanings, also place considerable emphasis on atmosphere and drama (in the way JG Thirlwell and Raymond Watts do, setting Foetus and PIG apart from the majority of the field). There’s no such subtlety here: ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’ is a balls-out blaster.

The track is pitched as ‘a rallying cry for a time when so many feel defeated and powerless. A time when giving up seems easier. But when I think of those who marched across the bridge in Selma, knowing full well what was waiting for them; when I think of the women who sacrificed everything for their autonomy; when I think of every brave soul who stood tall against oppression, I know this: we owe it to them to rise again.’

It’s a strong sentiment delivered at a time when mood and energy feels like it’s at an all-time low. It’s hard to recall a festive season that’s felt less festive, and celebrating extravagantly with gifts and feasts has felt quite wrong while the world is at war and hyperconsumption continues to drive climate change. What are we actually celebrating here? The idea that we’re ‘doing it for the kids’ rings rather hollow when you know that every overpriced piece plastic of tat stuffed in a stocking is another nail in the coffin of the future they’ll inherit.

And this brings us to the gimmick of New Year’s resolutions. How many last past the first fortnight of any given new year? Mostly people seem to resolve to get fitter, and take out gym memberships with good but misguided intent. Gym conglomerates rub their hands as they make half the year’s profits in a week or so, knowing that the regulars won’t be complaining of overcrowding again come February. Most goals set are as pointless as they are unattainable., but how many set themselves the target of being less of a cunt in the coming year, eh? Eh? Yeah – New Year Same Fuckin You.

This is a full-throttle raging technonidustrial banger, and curiously, as much as it’s in the vein of KMFDM and the entirety of the Wax Trax! catalogue with its pounding, hard-edged disco beat and snarling synths and mangled vocals, I can’t help but be reminded of ‘It’s Grim Up North’ by the JAMMs.

As an anti-trend anthem, with it’s ‘Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!’ refrain, ‘New Year Same Fuckin You’ is the perfect counterpoint to all of the motivational guff that circulates all year round but becomes particularly prevalent at this time of year as every agency going advertises to appeal to your shame – shame for your indulgence, your weight gain, your slacking, your failure to move forward in your life goals – in an attempt to take your money and convince you that spending with them will make your life better. Yes, fuck you! Get a grip. You want your life better? Start by taking control of your own direction, instead of paying for apps and influencers and life coaches to tell you what you already know. Need reminding that this is the true way forward? Listen to this on repeat for an hour daily.

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