I've been a music fan since my parents gave me a record player for Christmas when I was still in grade school. The first record I remember owning was "Sesame Street Disco." I've been a professional writer since 2004, but writing long before that. My first published work was in a middle school literary magazine and was a story about a zoo in which the animals could talk.
I described Gran Moreno’s new album, El Sol, to a nephew as “Latino garage-psych.” That’s about the closest I can get to how they sound. Mix their hometown Austin, Texas love of heavy psych grooves with some blues influences, border rock, and metal riffs, then bake it in the desert sun, and you get the idea.
“Las Montañas” starts off the “sun” (“El Sol”) side of the album with enough heavy riffs to start a landslide or give you the power to scale literal and figurative mountains. The last minute of this song is like a match thrown on a trail of gasoline. It doesn’t so much flow into “Aztlan” as it roars into it like a flash flood through a desert wash.
“Huracán” is almost an arena-rock track with big, Brian May-like guitar riffs mixed with soulful, mellow chords. It’s another song of many on the album that reflect the elements: “Las Montañas” (“The Mountains”) are earth, “Huracán” (“Hurricane”) could be air and / or water. After it comes “Temple of Fire” with its marching beats and tales of a long road ahead to something grand on the horizon.
“La Mentira” (“The Lie”) brings in more heavy, fuzzy, bluesy swagger and grows into a scorcher by the end. “Oaxaca / Please Don’t Cry” has a great inclusion of saxophone and trumpet on it to elevate the song, somehow, even higher. The album (and the “La Luna” side) ends with “Hikuri” — a track that blends catchy guitar riffs with hammering power chords and drums that catch you off-guard every time.
It’s a strong record, and one I’d love to hear live. It must flatten you.
Greg Loiacono & Stingray have released “Nothing Can Come Between Us,” a reimagining of the classic Sade song. Over the last two years, the Bay Area–based collective has been steadily building a following throughout Northern California, fine-tuning a retro soul sound that makes reinterpreting Sade a natural extension of their musical identity. A lone conga opens the track before the band falls into a magnetic groove, setting the stage for Loiacono’s falsetto vocal, which delivers the song’s themes of faith and trust with a palpable conviction. “I’ve been in love with Sade since hearing her for the first time as a kid in the backseat of my mom’s Chrysler Cordoba,” says Loiacono. “Something about hearing her voice and the band moved me deeply then and still does today. So when our drummer Michael Urbano brought ‘Nothing Can Come Between Us’ to the table as a cover for Stingray, I was delighted.” Urbano adds: “When we first tried playing ‘Nothing Can Come Between Us,’ I jumped into the same groove and tempo from Sade’s recording. The band’s percussionist Vicki Randle immediately stopped and said, ‘Don’t play it like that, do something different.’ So I slowed it down, went quarter notes on the hat, and swung the kick feel. She smiled and said, ‘There ya go.’ Once she jumped in on congas over that beat, it felt like we had our own thing goin’ for the song. Greg’s falsetto performance, run through producer Damien Lewis’ tripped-out effect, is its own thing as well. I love playing this song live; it’s like casting a spell that slowly gets a hold of the crowd. It’s not immediate. It’s one of those things that brings them to us, rather than us going to them.””Nothing Can Come Between Us” is the third single released by Greg Loiacono & Stingray from sessions produced by Damien Lewis at 2200 Studios in Sausalito, CA. The first two tracks, “Hope We Get To Dance” and “Come Back Home,” were released in 2025 via RPF Records / Royal Potato Family. Stingray is led by vocalist/guitarist Greg Loiacono, who is also a founding member of the legendary San Francisco rock band The Mother Hips. He’s joined by drummer Michael Urbano, percussionist/vocalist Vicki Randle, bassist/vocalist Kofy Brown, keyboardist Danny Eisenberg, and guitarist Tom Ayres. The six-piece is currently headlining shows throughout California.
Upcoming Shows: 3/21 – Templeton, CA – Club Car Bar 5/17 – Big Sur, CA – Hipnic XVII 6/20 – San Luis Obispo, CA – Live Oak Music Festival
Keep your mind open.
[Nothing can come between you and the subscription box.]
On their Live at Levitation album, it’s easy to forget that this recording was only the second show of A Place to Bury Strangers‘ current lineup (Oliver Ackermann – guitar and lead vocals, John Fedowitz – bass and lead vocals, Sandra Fedowitz – drums). They jumped right in (literally, in Ackermann’s case, as he was so frantic that his guitar almost flew into the stage) and proceeded to, as always, flatten the place.
Mrs. Fedowitz’s Devo-like drumming gets things off to a great start on “Dragged in a Hole.” Mr. Fedowitz’s bass throbs like a bubbling volcano on “Let’s See Each Other” as Ackermann’s voice and guitar bounce off every surface.
“We’ve Come So Far” always hits like a burst of anti-aircraft fire live, and this version is no exception. It’s difficult to tell which of the three is hitting harder on it…and that’s kind of the point. Mr. Fedowitz’s thick, sludgy bassline opens “Never Come Back” while Ackermann’s guitar sounds like jet engines starting, failing, roaring, and screeching.
Mrs. Fedowitz hits her toms so hard and fast in the first third of “Alone” that it’s surprising her drum tech didn’t have to replace them every eight bars or so. The breakdown / switch in the song that rushes it into heavy shoegaze is outstanding. “I Lived My Life to Stand in the Shadow of Your Heart” is another stunner. It sounds like the entire room is collapsing under an attack from a Martian tripod and barely gives you a chance to process everything that’s happening.
I say this about “Ocean” a lot, but it’s always true: Every time I think I’ve heard the loudest version of it live, APTBS somehow makes one even louder and wilder and more transcendent. This one evolves / devolves into feedback-chaos and almost makes your brain melt. The album ends with “Have You Ever Been in Love?”, which has Mrs. Fedowitz singing / chanting high notes to contrast the heavy, almost deafening buzz of the entire track.
APTBS shows are designed so you (and the people a couple blocks away) not just hear the music, but feel it. It rattles your whole body. My fiancé said, “I think I need a neck adjustment after that.” when she saw them for the first time. This album gets you close to that nerve-rattling, mind-altering sensation. My longtime description of APTBS is “They’re not for everyone, but I want everyone to hear them.”
Play this one loud, and everyone around you will (and should).
Dorthia Cottrell said that the title of her solo album Death Folk Country is a way to name “the world inside me.” You can guess from the album’s cover, an image of her as a vampire / werewolf / demoness / ghost, that this world is a dark place that hides and holds beauty and mystery.
After a soft instrumental opener, “Death Is the Punishment for Love,” “Harvester” curls into the room like fog that takes feminine shapes around you and threatens / entices you to stay in it forever. “Black Canyon” has Cottrell examining deep places within all of us, whether we want to admit they exist or not. They’ll emerge sooner or later “like a lover come back from the war.” The song is just her voice, an acoustic guitar, soft, rolling cymbals, and organ tones that sound like wind moving through a haunted house that eventually turns into birdsong.
“Family Annihilator” is the longest track on the album at nearly seven minutes. Cottrell sings, her voice echoing, about loss and the strength needed to continue moving forward through (and with) grief. The vocal effect of Cottrell’s voice being both lead and backing vocals (often in slightly different keys) is used throughout the record to great effect, making her sound like her physical and astral self are singing about the same thing from both earthly and cosmic perspectives.
“Effigy at the Gates of Ur” sounds like a lullaby. “Midnight Boy” brings in spaghetti western guitars and might be a love song about a back door man (to use an old blues term) or a love affair with a vampire (“If heaven could see what he’s doing to me, I’d be running like the devil in a cemetery.”). “Hell in My Water” combines violin tones with deep acoustic guitar sounds to create something that feels a bit menacing but you can’t help exploring it.
“Take Up Serpents” refers to a verse in the Bible declaring that one filled with the Holy Spirit could handle serpents without fear, and Cottrell seems to wonder if she’d ever be brave enough to seek such faith and strength. “For Alicia” is a lovely track about someone who’s going through pain and only wants someone else to carry that cross for a while. “Eat What I Kill” is just Cottrell’s haunting voice and acoustic guitar, but they’re enough to wallop you as she asks, “Are you saying my name like a curse?” and wonders if she’ll be lost forever after losing love yet again. “Of earthly pleasures, you can have your fill. I only want to eat the things that I kill,” she says. Damn. She’s not playing.
The album is bookended with “Death Is the Reward for Love,” and it’s a send-off of brighter synths and uplifting (yet still spooky) vocal effects to remind us that the amount of grief we have for love lost is equal to the amount of love we had.
It sounds simple to call this record “haunting,” but it is. It gets into you and lingers in your chest.
“To me it feels meaningful to talk about emotional things in a calm way.’ – Florence Shaw, lead singer and lyricist of Dry Cleaning.
That sums up not only Ms. Shaw’s approach to Dry Cleaning’s songs on their new album, Secret Love, but across their catalogue. Shaw’s vocal delivery, which often sounds like she’s some kind of quiet trickster watching from afar, often puzzles people. She writes and sings “about emotional things in a calm way” while her bandmates (Nick Buxton – drums, Tom Dowse – guitarist, Lewis Maynard – bass) often go bonkers behind and around her. It can be a jarring experience. Shaw is sometimes like an eye of a hurricane. Your ears aren’t sure where to give their attention. It’s best to just absorb it.
Lead single “Hit My Head All Day” has a wicked disco bass line from Maynard and a funk groove by Buxton to get your body moving. Dowse’s guitar comes in from the post-punk show next door and the dancers happily let him rock out while they keep dancing. Underneath the fun beats, Shaw sings about being frustrated with the barrage of not only thoughts, but also the idea she has to keep thinking them (“Life, a series of memorials and signals telling us this or that. Telling us this or this, think of that. The objects outside the head control the mind. To arrange them is to control people’s thinking.”).
“Cruise Ship Designer” is a song about a man who has a great career, yet he feels empty about it. Shaw wonders what it must be like to design floating cities and still feel unseen. Shaw tells a tale of someone invisible to most — the kind of song Dry Cleaning do well. “My Soul / Half Pint” has almost a surf groove to Dowse’s guitar during the chorus, and Shaw, tired of how domestic responsibilities have been heaped upon women, proclaims that “Maybe it’s time for men to clean for, like, five hundred years.”
“Secret Love (Concealed in a Drawing of a Boy)” has this bright, slightly shoegaze-y texture that is difficult to describe. “Let Me Grow and You’ll See the Fruit” has some of Shaw’s best lyrics on the album as she craves for time uninterrupted by “a video call or a survey or a dick pic or a loud bang.” She only gets privacy in “sample size” (just like most of us) and she only wants to be still and present. The saxophone on it adds a great touch.
“Blood” has smoldering punk rage under it as Shaw sings about the normalization of atrocities and violence across our screens. “Evil Evil Idiot” has Shaw expressing her frustrations with someone who won’t shut up about microplastics (and with influencers in general). The bursts of Dowse’s guitar are shocking at first. They match Shaw’s snarl.
Buxton and Maynard put down a fuzzy punk beat on “Rocks,” which is the grittiest track on the album and probably scorches live. On “The Cute Things,” Shaw seems to enjoy and be annoyed by little things in a relationship (“You talk like a greetings card, but I admire you and your family vibe.”). “I Need You” has her asking for stability in a world that keeps getting weirder by the day (“Why does it need to be over and over, and without end or change, and repeating over and over?…You’re the one that I need. You will make it all better.”). The synth bass reflects the weight she’s feeling of the constant barrage of anger around her.
The album ends with “Joy,” in which Shaw proclaims her belief that we’ll come through all this chaos and end up in a better place (“We’ll build a cute, harmless world. Don’t want one from you, cult.”).
Dry Cleaning are confronting emotional things all over this record, and inviting us to do the same in a calm way…but also acknowledging that calmness can proceed a storm.
Keep your mind open.
[I might hit my head all day if you don’t subscribe.]
ADULT. is not cooperating. For over 25 years, the dystopian Detroit synth-punk institution founded by Nicola Kuperus and Adam Lee Miller has embodied steadfast frustration, distrust, and apprehension. One might expect the edges to soften with time, but ADULT. is not interested in the comforts of legacy. The duo’s music has never sounded as visceral, urgent, and downright angry as it does on the culminating, uncompromising Kissing Luck Goodbye, their scorched-earth 10th LP and fourth with Dais Records.
Built with upgraded gear and a whole new library of sounds, the material is crushingly dynamic, louder yet clearer, with Kuperus’ commanding delivery given greater prominence in the mix, outlining an arsenal of vivid, caustic calls, chants, and musings. Laughter, whether in the lyrics or as a possessed presence, serves as a leitmotif that speaks to the menacing absurdity of modern times.
“No One is Coming”, the album’s lead single is a poignant, bassline-driven industrial anthem that turns feedback into melody, the track attacks inaction in the face of fascism —
NO ONE IS COMING TO YOUR RESCUE… A lyric that was written in early 2025 and is even more relevant on its release date a year later. A song speaking to moral collapse and political corruption “to a T”. These subhumans attempting to run the show are more concerned with cashing in and political cosplay than the well being of mankind. While working on this album, I read an article from an esteemed environmental scientist about “what’s coming in the future”. What stuck with me was their point that we are entering a new phase in existence where the most important thing we can do is know our neighbors and know the strengths of each other and what resources everyone has. Who needs extra care? Who is on their own? This song was written as a call to arms. Be alert. Be aware. Be prepared. Stand up for yourself and look out for your community. We are better when we are united. Social media is wearing us down. Deluding us. The political landscape is horrifying, distracting, deranged and unhinged. We are seeing this go down in real time right now in Minneapolis… NO ONE IS COMING TO YOUR RESCUE… except ALL OF US! Keep speaking up! Keep using your right to protest and most importantly keep showing kindness to one another.
ADULT. is known for high-stakes catharsis on stage, and recently deployed their back catalog of bass guitar songs from the 2000s, retracing the prescient Anxiety Always era partially out of necessity given the temperature of today’s political and technological dread. The response was instant and palpable: “We were in Paris, and the kids were stage diving. And I was like, this is rad. This is kind of the energy I want to get back into,” Kuperus says. The epiphany coincided with a series of setbacks — Kuperus’ bouts with chronic vertigo, the loss of their close friend and collaborator Douglas McCarthy of Nitzer Ebb, whom the album is dedicated to — all made profoundly worse under the looming regime. “We were stuck in the mud for quite a while after the election,” Miller says. “We had all the concepts, but we would just be like, ‘What’s the point?’” With failing studio air conditioners and dead car batteries (their sacred space for listening back to recordings), they often joked that the album might be cursed. Kuperus adds, “We’re just like everything’s breaking. We’re breaking. We’re broken.”
The sentiment didn’t stick, however, as they found themselves ultimately too super-charged by fury to sit still. From watching Musk’s disgusting nazi salute to seeing their community struggle under the new regime to waiting months for a tariff-inflated replacement subwoofer, the vibe heading into Kissing Luck Goodbye was four middle fingers pointed straight up.
Rather than retreat, ADULT. focused on the process, revisiting their setup, complete with their first new mics in 20 years. They obsessed over textures, amassing a massive sample library taken from old thrift-store albums, previously used and unused ADULT. ingredients and new field recordings, running myriad items, including the buzz of shop vacs, through various pedals. Pause Kissing Luck Goodbye at any moment, and you’re likely to count a dozen things happening at once in strange, dizzying, and dissonant harmony. Together with producer Nolan Gray, whose involvement resulted from a chance encounter (he happened to be the host of the short-term rental property where the two stayed — maybe there is still some luck, after all), the band pushed themselves harder than ever before to build a world with this record.
Songs took shape from unusual places: “No One Is Coming” got its tempo from a skipping record they captured through a cell phone during a bnb stay for Kuperus’ 50th birthday. “None of It’s Fun” blitzes with breathless urgency, high-speed glissades, and pointed lines like “OH I AM TEARING MY GUTS OUT / LOOK AT ME…DO YOU THINK THAT THIS IS AMUSING?” The closer, “Destroyers”, was the last song they recorded and encompasses the techniques that ADULT. has learned not just throughout the making of Kissing Luck Goodbye, but across their quarter-century as a pioneering collaborative project.
ADULT. Live Dates:
Apr 10: Pittsburgh, PA – Spirit Lodge Apr 11: Baltimore, MD – Ottobar Apr 12: Brooklyn, NY – Good Room Apr 14: Raleigh, NC – Kings Apr 15: Atlanta, GA – The Earl Apr 16: Jacksonville, FL – Jack Rabbits Apr 17: Orlando, FL – The Social Apr 18: Miami, FL – TBD Apr 21: New Orleans, LA – Gasa Gasa Apr 22: Houston, TX – White Oak Music Hall (Upstairs) Apr 23: Austin, TX – 29th Street Ballroom Apr 24: San Antonio, TX – Paper Tiger Apr 25: Denton, TX – Rubber Gloves Apr 28: Albuquerque, NM – Sister Apr 29: Phoenix, AZ – Rebel Lounge Apr 30: San Diego, CA – The Casbah May 01: Los Angeles, CA – Hollywood Forever (Masonic Lodge) May 02: San Francisco, CA – Rickshaw Stop May 04: Portland, OR – Mississippi Studios May 05: Seattle, WA – Barboza May 08: Minneapolis, MN – 7th St. Entry May 09: Cudahy, WI – X-Ray Arcade
Miss Grit—the New York-based, Korean-American musician Margaret Sohn (they/she)—announces their new album, Under My Umbrella, will be released April 24th via Mute, and shares the magnetic new single, “Stranger.” Sohn is a bold experimentalist and architect of sculptural texture, known for deftly moving between analogue and digital, guitar and synths, and creating an immersive cosmos of sound with futuristic frameworks for their searching introspection. For their second full-length album, they’ve lifted the lid on their internal world, lasering in on the anxieties and heartbreak of the past two years. It’s an album that is as immersive and expansive as it is intimate, channeling the noirish atmosphere of classic trip-hop bands, while adding a hefty dose of maximalism and a dream-pop sensibility.
Last year, Miss Grit released a preview of Under My Umbrella with “Tourist Mind.” It was the first taste of new music since Miss Grit’s debut, 2023’s Follow The Cyborg, a concept album in which they built a fluid future beyond the gender and genre binaries, where a non-human machine goes in pursuit of liberation. They were recognized by i-D as a “singular talent” for their “compelling ideas and freewheeling creativity” and by Rolling Stone for their “elliptical, hooky songs that take unexpected turns.” Surrounding its release, Miss Grit was named an “Artist to Watch” by Brooklyn Vegan, a “Breaking” artist by FLOOD, profiled by Rolling Stone as an “Artist You Need To Know,” and beyond. Additionally, they performed for The Late Show with Stephen Colbert’s LateShowMeMusic series, and toured supporting Nation of Language, Bartees Strange and The Last Dinner Party.
Under My Umbrella began to take shape when Sohn returned from an intense touring schedule where they’d driven themself around North America totally alone. When they returned home, Sohn found themselves yearning to capture that specific, less restrained energy of playing live. Like Follow The Cyborg, its creation mostly took place in Sohn’s Queens apartment. The music came to them quickly, streams of consciousness with one new guiding principle: don’t overthink it. “I tried not to edit too much or force a moment to happen,” they explain, leaning into big choruses where it felt right. Some guitar sounds were first takes, ditto vocals, thus preserving the immediacy and authenticity of the emotion. As such, it’s a densely layered album, charged with electric crescendos that build to moments of unbridled catharsis. “It feels truer to myself, and more of a representation of what is actually coming out of me,” says Sohn.
With its all-engulfing chorus about trying to out-run feeling betrayed, new single “Stranger” is Sohn’s most ambitious song yet. Ethereal and intense, its gritty breakbeat backbone and sparkly synths give way to emphatic industrial-pop. With this track, Sohn’s long-time mix engineer, Aron Kobayashi Ritch of Momma, stepped up to co-produce. “Usually collaboration is a little bit hard for me – there has to be a deeper connection there,” says Sohn. “But really trusting the people I was working with to put their fingerprint on the music, and them also being close friends, was liberating.” Other collaborators include friends from New York City and Los Angeles: electronic visionary and film scorer Sae Heum Han (mmph), bassist Margaux Bouchegnies (Margaux), singer Eva Liu (Mui Zyu), producer Luciano Rossi (Mui Zyu), drummer Preston Fulks (Momma) and violinist Zachary Mezzo (Catcher).
Watch the Visualizer for “Stranger” Under My Umbrella not only presents Sohn’s gift for complex production, but also the boldness of finding your voice. Many of the songs speak to the idea of trying to wrestle free–of expectations, of being caught up in other people and losing yourself, and of the social anxiety that comes with being overwhelmed by others. “Before, I was really timid about what I said and didn’t say, and that all ended up being molded into something that didn’t feel as relatable to me as it once did,” comments Sohn. “Part of it is due to honoring my feelings and trying to be more honest in my writing. I feel a deep connection to this record that I haven’t felt about my music until now.”
Under My Umbrella will be available digitally and on limited-edition crystal clear vinyl and CD. Miss Grit will play record release shows in NYC on Friday, April 24th at Nightclub 101 and Los Angeles on Saturday, May 2nd at Scribble. Prior, Sohn will appear at Rough Trade in NYC for an acoustic set and signing with free entry along with a pre-order of the album. Fans can RSVP here.
Miss Grit Tour Dates: Sat. Feb. 7 – Los Angeles, CA @ Banned From Eden Fri. April 24 – New York, NY @ Nightclub 101 Sat. May 2 – Los Angeles, CA @ Scribble
La Peste were Boston’s first true punk band. The band were born as a group of art students who had never played instruments and over a few short years became a foundational influence for a Boston music scene that would go on to produce some of the most important and boundary-pushing American bands of the ’80s. They played with the Ramones, worked with The Cars’ Ric Ocasek and earned the attention of the legendary BBC DJ John Peel all while releasing only one single (1978’s “Better Off Dead”), which gradually accumulated a reputation as a punk classic, as did the various live and other unofficial recordings that circulated as bootlegs over the years.
In 1996, Matador released a single-disc La Peste collection, primarily of live recordings and with a few studio cuts mixed in, which introduced the band to a new generation of fans but has now been out of print for decades. At the end of 2025, Wharf Cat Records announced the release of a new compilation entitled I Don’t Know Right From Wrong: Lost La Peste 1976-1979 Vol. 1that aims to tell the full story of La Peste.
This box set focuses on the band’s prodigious unreleased studio work, collecting tracks from the “Better off Dead” sessions, demos produced by Ric Ocasek of the Cars, a 1979 session at Electro Acoustic Studios, and 4-track recordings made at the band’s loft. The first disc imagines the mythical full-length the band never made, and the second, equally worth hearing, is more diffusely assorted. Finally, I Don’t Know Right From Wrong gives La Peste the sort of presentation they deserve: not just as Boston’s first punk group, but a band that remains singularly thrilling today.
While bootlegs of many of the tracks on the compilation have circulated in various forms, today the band are sharing a never before released track called “Acid Test” that comes from the sessions with Ocasek. The track is accompanied by a video that pairs live footage shot by Jan Crocker and the MIT film crew with the studio track.
La Peste’s Mark Karl says of the single:
Acid Test is two chord magic. Two meanings. A relentless bass line, angry guitar and pounding drums. Perfect arrangement for a trio. Peter’s lyrics were right on – most of us can relate to a relationship gone sour. Begins simply and then quickly builds in intensity. The live performance of this song always carried the crowd into a controlled frenzy.
arantisT is calling on artists, creators, and cultural voices around the world to stand with the Iranian people, to speak for those who have been silenced, and to help ensure that the suffering of an entire nation is seen, heard, and never ignored.
Iran is currently facing an unprecedented humanitarian catastrophe. What began as peaceful civilian protests against the occupying terrorist regime has escalated into a nationwide massacre, with the regime deploying heavy and military-grade weapons into city streets and brutally killing more than 30,000 people, including children, women, elders, and unarmed civilians. Families are denied the return of their loved ones’ bodies or are extorted for outrageous sums, while reports describe piles of corpses and streets running with blood. In an attempt to conceal the scale of these crimes, the regime has imposed a total digital blackout—shutting down the internet and phone networks across the country—cutting off all communication between Iran and the outside world, and leaving the true depth of the atrocities unknown. Despite this, the Iranian people remain united, calling collectively for Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi and demanding an end to the regime’s occupation. Artists and musicians across Iran and the diaspora stand in solidarity with the people; among them, the Iranian rock band TarantisT, which continues to release protest music and material in support of the movement. Their latest release, “Freedom”, incorporates real footage from the current events in Iran, merged with digital technology, amplifying the voices of a nation silenced but unbroken.
Relentless and prolific, TarantisT will be releasing a new single next week titled
Formed in 2000 by a group of young underground metal heads, TarantisT originated in the basement alternative rock and heavy metal scenes in their native Tehran, Iran. Having to perform secretly but loudly often proved to be difficult, but after sparking a following via word of mouth in the underground, the band soon began to garner international recognition. Within just a few years, international media correspondents inspired by their story (including BBC, SKY, CNN, NPR, Metal Hammer and Kerrang) started visiting Tehran to meet and talk with TarantisT. These news reports and articles aided TarantisT in cultivating a worldwide following – motivating the band to relocate to the United States Los Angeles in 2008.
Iranian metal band TarantisT have been active with their social-political content and music during all these years, dropping tracks like “Revolution” in 2022. “This is not a protest, this is a Revolution”. TarantisT continues to march towards this Revolution with all Iranians seeking freedom and liberty for their country with the main slogan of “Women, Life, Freedom”.
Instagram, TikTok and some other social medias have put limitation and restrictions to TarantisT’s accounts due to posting images and footages of the protest, violence of the Islamic Republic authorities and due to the use of social-political hashtags.
Since their inception, TarantisT has been invited to play several festivals like SXSW, CMJ, Canadian Music Week and Intergalactic Fest. TarantisT quickly added to their touring repertoire, performing on the same stages as Metallica, Motörhead, Stone Temple Pilots, Muse, Cheap Trick, Voivod, Sum 41, My Ruin, Ben Harper and many more.
Today the voice and songwriter of Fear of Men, Jessica Weiss, announces details of her debut solo album under the moniker New German Cinema. Set for release on March 27th via Felte, her new album ‘Pain Will Polish Me’ is preceded today with lead single “My Mistake”, which features guest vocals from Merchandise’s Carson Cox.
Weiss carries lyrical precision and emotional intensity into the stormy dark-pop gems on her debut solo album. ‘Pain Will Polish Me’ has been five years in the making, stretched between London and LA, built from late-night files, long silences and the quiet persistence of trying to finish something beautiful. Produced with Alex DeGroot (Zola Jesus, Cate Le Bon), it feels both forensic and devotional, the product of someone who doesn’t rush catharsis. It presents both solitary and connective, as if built from long-distance transmissions between two dream states.
Weiss calls the album a meditation on pop and European art-house auteur Rainer Werner Fassbinder. It tracks the ways intimacy and control fold into one another until it’s impossible to tell where one ends. The songs are about the parts of yourself that dissolve in love, and the small acts of violence that come with being known. They move through claustrophobic relationships, obsession, surrender, cycles of suffering that start to feel like devotion. The language is pop but the feeling is something stranger, colder, more interior.
The album’s lead track, online today, is “My Mistake” – a collaboration with Carson Cox of Merchandise, who comments “I was going to produce Fear of Men and instead we made something totally different I think. True collaboration which is my preferred way to work on music”. What began as an Italo disco experiment evolved into a goth club anthem, charged and restless. It captures the push and pull of Weiss’s themes – devotion as both destruction and release. Weiss has a knack for making pain feel both exquisite and familiar.
Speaking on the accompanying video, Weiss comments: “The video sets the emotional tone for the record, suspended between eroticism and nightmare. It draws on cropped mirror framing – a favourite device of Douglas Sirk used to explore themes of emotional and physical entrapment and characters’ inner psychological conflicts – moments of dissociation, and the television as a symbol of alienation, inspired by my perennial inspiration, RW Fassbinder.”
Video director Luke Bather adds: “Our initial starting point was, predictably, the New German Cinema movement. However, when we discussed the themes of the song in more depth, the video evolved into its own beast. Sex, death, repressed desire, and good old-fashioned Catholic Guilt all loom large in the video through a series of performance vignettes inspired by everything from the films of Rainer Werner Fassbinder through to the paintings of Francis Bacon and everything in between. Adding to this, we have the spectre of Carson haunting the video as a ghostly analogue broadcast interspersed with archival footage of Berlin in the 1970s; an inescapable reminder of the past and a nod to the original New German Cinema movement.”
The songs on ‘Pain Will Polish Me’ move in shadow. Layers of synth, vocal and guitar fold over one another, drawing from the cinematic tension of Fassbinder’s New German Cinema and the quiet dissonance of modern Berlin, where Weiss recorded fragments of the record, drifting between places that carry uneasy ghosts. Between dinner conversations about the city’s buried history and the surreal comfort of its present, she found herself tracing the outlines of love and loss, identity and dissolution. “Germany’s history is everywhere but it’s unsaid,” she notes. “Fassbinder brought it into view. I wanted to approach the same sense of unease through sound.”
The album artwork picks up these themes, hovering between the everyday mundanity of a Fassbinder domestic scene, and something less recognisable, punctuated by surreal elements that move us into dreamscape, both familiar and disquieting. The shell and sea reference Botticelli’s Venus: a figure born from sea foam created when Uranus’s severed genitals fell into the ocean – an image of creation through destruction. The shell becomes her vessel of birth, representing transformation, protection and fertility – the bridge between divine creation and human life. Weiss extends this theme of renewal to the personal; her baby daughter’s babbles feature on the record.
Weiss has long been fascinated by the seam between pop and theory, art and feeling. While Fear of Men continue to work on their next record, this solo project opens up her own private language- a collection that feels at once personal and archival, haunted and alive. Between finishing a Masters in Early Modern Literature at Oxford, starting a PhD, moving countries and jobs many times, she’s been piecing together a body of work that sits somewhere between diary, research and séance.
It’s an album about losing yourself in order to see what’s left. A document of love as obsession, repetition, survival. A meditation on love as both mirror and undoing, crafted in fragments, then pieced together into something whole.
New German Cinema live dates: 28 February – London, UK @ Sebright Arms 15 April – Brighton, UK @ The Folklore Rooms
