Here’s the latest release from Mitra Mitra, a minimal electronic duo from Vienna, Austria.
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A new heart-stopping piece of work by Visonia in which sadness, happiness, hopeful and desperation are in a continuous battle. As a result of this distress and ad nauseam the Chilean artist has asked himself about the sense of life and figured out how to look on the bright side.Doubtless,If we talk about “Fake Wings”,we could point out that this one is an epic and thought-provoking album composed of 6 wicked tunes and released on lovely pinkwhite vinyl.
Here’s a compilation from Cold Beats featuring NONE, Aus Tears, Paradox Obscur, Lola Kumtus, L’Avenir, Non Lieu, La Mécanique, A V G V S T, Vacant Stares, Palissade, Antidolby, Blind Seagull, Delayscape and The Detox Twins.
Them Are Us Too was formed in the Bay Area by friends Kennedy Ashlyn and Cash Askew in 2012 after meeting at school. Fast friends with an appreciation for the same music and art, they recorded a demo and began performing intimate and memorable gigs on the west coast. They quickly gained a cult following as word spread about their youthful, innocent, and fresh take on the revered 80s dream pop and shoegaze sound, and Kennedy Ashlyn’s voice was immediately compared to Elizabeth Fraser, Kate Bush, and Harriet Wheeler – while Cash Askew’s washes of intricate guitar felt akin to Robin Guthrie, Ronny Moorings, or Kevin Shields. Their music felt familiar but new, nostalgic, and heartbreaking, with songs delivered simply and earnestly. They betrayed their age (both only 21 when they signed to DAIS) by releasing one of the most incredible debut albums of 2014, “Remain”. Tragically, Cash Askew passed away in the Ghost Ship fire in Oakland in December of 2016, sending a shockwave of loss through our community. While Kennedy Ashlyn would eventually emerge as a solo artist through her project SRSQ, there were unfinished Them Are Us Too recordings and demos that Kennedy and those close to Cash felt deserved be heard in her memory. Kennedy returned to the studio with producer Joshua Eustis (Telefon Tel Aviv), Sunny Haire (Cash’s stepfather), Matia Somovich (INHALT), and Anya Dross (Cash’s girlfriend) to complete unfinished demos and sketches, write new compositions, and honor Cash Askew. The result is “AMENDS”: an album of tragic beauty and depth that tugs at emotions and inspires.
It’s always kind of the same: the guy gets on stage – provided that there is one – looking like a lanky jackal, with a sweater or two on, and without notice he starts hitting on a jumble of cymbals stacked on tattered guitars, wedged between two ancient synths. After a few minutes, he ends up shirtless and everything disappears, crumbled and pulverized: the show, the music, the people around you, the stage – if there was one – and you find yourself in a hand-to-hand combat: the struggle of Man against the machine, the New Age of Metal, the big final crash. What matters then is not what this guy is doing, but the faith he’s putting in it. And what he puts in it is nothing less than his whole life, messily arranged in a large pile of hypnogenic patterns, primitive words, barking, anti-theft alarms, control losses, infernal nights. Then everyone’s free to pull the string that suits them in this huge panic – punk, indus, soundtrack to a urban crime film of the year 3000: as if being so harsh, fierce, and vital was not enough, Usé’s music also leaves you the choice – an incredible luxury at a time when anything’s spoon-shed to the point of having storytelling and opinions delivered turnkey, 100% validated and ready to consume. In fact, the music of Nicolas Belvalette (the man behind Usé, who can also be seen in Headwar, Les Morts Vont Bien, Sultan Solitude, Roberto Succo and about 125 other simultaneous projects) could have contented itself with live performance, where it seems to be reaching its full potential. In view of such firepower, what more could we expect from a record, other than an inevitable disappointment? Well, in fact it’s just the opposite: his first album Chien d’la casse had proven it, and Selflic definitely confirms it. Martial pianos, mongoloid harpsichords, rural techno, social horror: this new record contains all it takes to writhe, sweat, shudder, pant, stagger, pick yourself up, crawl, howl, faint, get up and pick yourself up again – in short, to have fun. We’ll spare you the truisms about “stepping out of his comfort zone”, about the “darkened atmosphere” or a “chiaroscuro self-portrait”: Selflic is a perfect digest of what Usé was, is, and will probably be for a long time: a terrific machine to crush time and bullshit, to invoke the essential precepts of fire and fury. And that’s all you need to know. The rest is just noise. |
