Goat‘s Seu Sangue EP is a collection of four remixes from their Oh Death album and one new track. It came about after the surprise release of Oh Death, which reminded everyone of how good Goat is and had producers and DJ clamoring to remix several (if not all) tracks from it.
Seu Sangue is the result, starting with the funky and snappy 12″ Extended Dance Mix of “Under No Nation” by John Mark Lapham. The “Shit & Shine Rework” of “Do the Dance” is jagged and weird, and Sonic Boom‘s Party Mix of “Soon You Die” somehow makes the song even fuzzier and grimier. I wish it were double the length – just under three minutes isn’t enough for this much madness.
Marlene Ribeiro remixes “Remind Yourself” with extra hand percussion for a funky instrumental. The new track is the title track, mixing acoustic guitar and what sounds like a Mellotron with seagull cries and reverb-loaded vocals for a meditative experience that is perfect for a sunset or when you’re about to make a potentially life-changing decision (and, really, aren’t all of them life-changing?).
Toronto’s pop punk rock powerhouse The Mendozaz are back with “Late Stage 12 Gauge,” the first advance single from their upcoming eight-song concept EP The Completely Fictional History of This Great Nation of Canada, out November 3 on Cartridge Heart. Like the rest of the record, the track takes aim at an entirely fabricated chapter of Canadian lore, in this case a web of imagined affairs, a dozen restraining orders, and one very ill-advised bromance cover-up.
A high-voltage burst of 90s-style pop-punk filtered through the band’s signature mix of humour and bite, “Late Stage 12 Gauge” blends galloping rhythms, snotty harmonies, and a chorus that lands like an inside joke you are instantly in on. Beneath the grin-inducing hooks, the lyrics spin a tale of paranoia, jealousy, and shotgun standoffs that feels just plausible enough to make you wonder if it really happened. “As any single guy will tell you, having platonic female friends is a bit of a minefield,” the band says. “Even the most well-meaning of us are going to have to deal with jealous significant others from time to time. The last thing you want is to set off the heat-packing husbands (and weapon-wielding wives) of the world. There’s a whole population of people who think ‘Netflix and Chill’ actually means ‘Netflix and Chill’ and they have no idea the toes they’re stepping on.”
Formed in 2017, The Mendozaz consist of Jonny (vocals/guitar), Michael (vocals/bass) and Dic (drums). They have carved out a reputation for relentless live shows and obnoxiously catchy songwriting. Their three previous albums (Two Days to Retirement, Up and At Them and Loafers) earned critical praise and steady campus radio play, while sharing stages with Dayglo Abortions, Chuck Coles and The Anti-Queens and making festival stops at Pouzza, NXNE and KW Long Weekend Band Crawl.
Described as “the sound of a Fat Wreck comp smashing violently into a copy of Big Shiny Tunes,” The Mendozaz channel the spirit of early Green Day and late 90s Fat Wreck alumni while avoiding the syrupy pitfalls that plagued pop-punk’s commercial boom. It is an approach that has drawn comparisons to The Weakerthans, PUP and The Dead Milkmen, bands that can make you laugh, think, and shout along in the same three minutes.
With The Completely Fictional History of This Great Nation of Canada, The Mendozaz lean into their love of Canadian storytelling by making the stories up entirely, from murderous werewolves in London, Ontario to the sea captain who may have seduced Death herself. “Late Stage 12 Gauge” is just the first taste, a wink, a wallop, and a reminder that in punk rock, history is always written by the loudest.
As the story goes, Man…Or Astro-Man?‘s Brian “Birdstuff” Teasley send a demo of the band’s music to legendary BBC DJ John Peel along with a note telling him to never play it on air because they didn’t want to be discovered and then forgotten like so many other bands who had been played on his show.
The trick worked, because Peel came to love MOAM? so much that he invited them to play on his show over a dozen times between 1993 and 2000. Many of those recordings were released as a limited box set, ROYGBIV – which quickly sold out in 2024. Thankfully, a deluxe second edition of it was released this year.
It’s jam-packed with MOAM?’s signature sci-fi surf, launching with “Rocketship XL-3.” “Invasion of the Dragonmen” samples an old Spider-Man adventure record. “Nitrous Burnout” is a tribute to the dangerous world of outlaw racing. “Transmissions from Venus” is one of their heavier tracks and loaded with fuzz. “A Mouthful of Exhaust” is another fun one about the smash-up racing lifestyle.
“Sadie Hawkins Atom Bomb” pushes the bass to the front and takes on a slight rough edge. The theme from The Munsters has been a long-time favorite of surf bands everywhere, and MOAM?’s version is a wild stomper that’s over before you can catch your breath, and “Gargantua’s Last Stand” is as raucous as its titular monster. “Name of Numbers” and “Special Agent Conrad Uno” feature some of the wildest guitar on the entire collection.
“Time Bomb” and “Put Your Finger in the Socket” are punk-surf, with the latter having a dangerous growl throughout it. “________ (Classified)” brings in a Theremin for good measure. “Sferic Waves” gets a little bit into horror-rock territory (which is fine by me).
MOAM? play tribute to Mr. Peel on a couple tracks in the collection, the first being “Inside the Head of Mr. John Peel” – which makes you think Mr. Peel had constant drumming and surf guitar on his mind. “Inside the Atom” is as fast and wild as you’ll hope it will be. “24 Hours” slows things down, but not by much. What’s the “Maximum Radiation Level”? I don’t know, but it sounds like MOAM? reach it on the track. “U-Uranus” is one of the few tracks with vocals and it’s about the seventh planet from the Sun…for the most part.
The guitars on “Man Made from CO2” warp like something teetering on the rim of a black hole. “9-Volt” is another rare track with vocals and “Television Fission” is a blast of rocket fuel that burns out almost before you notice it’s happening. “Welcome to the Wicky Wacky World of John Peel (The Wayward Meteor)” is a great one, mixing funky guitars with weird sounds, solid surf bass, and surf-punk drums. “Lo Batt” reminds me of early Devo tracks with its mix of odd synths, punk riffs, robotic vocals, and snappy drums.
“The Miracle of Genuine Pyrex” has one of the goofiest names and some of the most metal riffs. “Jonathan Winters Frankenstein” is a fun poke at the Edgar Winter Group. It’s not a cover of their classic “Frankenstein,” but you can still hear the influence. “With Automatic Shut Off” and “Rovers” are a bit mellow, and “Bombora” is their version of a classic surf-rock ripper. “Max Q” has cryptic vocals hidden behind the fierce riffs and rolling drums. “Don’t Think What Jack” wraps up the music, but there are still four more tracks of Birdstuff reading excerpts from Phillip K. Dick‘s Through a Scanner Darkly. Why? Heck, why not by this point?
It’s a wild, fun collection that flies by you like, well, a rocket. Blast off with it.
Chicago-raised, Brooklyn-based musician Liam Kazar announces his new albumPilot Light, out November 7thvia his new labelCongrats Records, and releases the lead single and video, “The Word The War.” The follow-up to 2023’s Due North, “a winning midtempo confection” (New York Times’ T Magazine), Pilot Light is pensive and elegantly arranged. It represents Liam at his most unguarded as he navigates different stages of a relationship that has since come to an end, and peppers in a few more tracks that pull universal observations from daily life. Part of his more raw approach is reflected in Pilot Light’s spare, no-frills production, which strips out all reverb in favor of a crisp, straightforward sonic style.
This unadorned sound springs to life on today’s single, the standout sprightly stomper “The Word The War,” which rumbles in with quickened percussion and a jazz-influenced bassline that invokes Fleetwood Mac’s time-honored Tusk single “The Ledge.” As Liam ties together poetic lyrics that borrow from his daily chess habit (“In a canopy of trees there’s a sleepless queen”), the singer contemplates facade versus reality. “I feel like I’ve experienced a lot of people who are in very strong positions in the world or in their social status, yet they’re just as alone, just as vulnerable, just as insecure, just as unhappy with what they have as all the people below them,” he says. The accompanying video is directed by Austin Vesely.
Pilot Light signals Liam’s reintroduction to the homegrown music industry that made him. Growing up in Chicago, Liam first started playing guitar and writing songs at just 13. As he came of age, Liam studied jazz in high school and toured consistently with his and friends’ bands. Seasoned show-goers might recognize him from his tours with everyone from Sam Evian to pop/r&b singer Hannah Cohen and Jeff Tweedy, among others. “It’s all led to me just going for it as a solo artist,” Liam says.
That collaborative spirit is infused throughout Pilot Light, which effortlessly moves between folk-rock, pop, jazz, and alt-country and features production by Evian. Recorded at Evian’s Flying Cloud Studios in the Catskills, Pilot Light is technically a solo effort but goes down like a full-band project with contributions from Liam’s circle of friends: Hannah Cohen and Sima Cunningham on backing vocals, Sean Mullins on drums, and more seasoned players from Liam’s creative network.
In Liam’s words, “I’ve gone through periods of being a very private person and keeping my cards close to the vest, and I’ve let go of all that. I think since the relationship I was in ended, I feel like being honest and being vulnerable has only brought me closer to people.” Whether Liam is deconstructing a past relationship or contemplating everyday interpersonal dynamics, his poignant, intimate songwriting consistently positions him as a quiet musical force. His light might flicker, but it’s growing stronger by the second.
Kicking off next month, Liam will support Jeff Tweedy on a North American tour. Following, he’ll play a handful of record release shows. A full list of dates can be found below.
In 1989, Joanna were on the cusp of something bigger, their sound alive with the same electricity sparking through the North West of England. Yet in a world where gatekeepers decided who would rise and who would vanish, their debut never saw daylight. Now, 35 years later, ‘Hello Flower’ blooms at last — a time-capsule of youthful abandon, freed from the silence it was once consigned to, and finally able to be heard on its own terms.
‘Hello Flower’ is set to be released through US-label New Feelings on December 5th, and today the band share the album opener “If You Don’t Want Me To”.
This single is a first look at these long-forgotten ¼-inch reel tapes, discovered in a Manchester apartment loft. It starts with a boldly simplistic drumbeat, something the band’s drummer Alty, just 15 when he joined the band, wrote as an exercise in school. The tune’s minimal, pulsing rhythm locks into a groove that nods to the same spirit as The Stone Roses’ ‘’Fools Gold’ while hinting at the euphoric lift that would later define Primal Scream’s ‘Screamadelica’. When Ty’s slide guitar hits at the bridge, it brings the track into the outer atmosphere of early 90’s indie dance.
Lyrically, the song brims with the messy thrill of teenage desire, capturing the push-and-pull of youthful romance with a mix of swagger and vulnerability.
It’s 1989. The Stone Roses are dominating the Indie scene and music press. Happy Mondays are laying the foundations of what would come to be known as the Madchester era with chaotic live performances. All eyes are on the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. Along the East Lancs Road, throughout industrial heartlands between Manchester and Liverpool, punctuated by woollyback accents, four young musicians meet and form the next contender for the scene’s attention, Joanna. Neil Holliday (vocals) and Terry Lloyd (bass), work colleagues from Runcorn and Widnes, join forces with Leigh Music College students Tyrone Holt (guitar) and Carl Alty (drums). They hail from thoroughly working-class backgrounds, raised by hard working dads and harder working mothers. Rejected by other local bands because of their perceived youthful naïveté, the four lads create a world of their own inside Pentagon Studios in Widnes. This world includes a stolen smoke machine and strobe lights, a wooden shack to prevent feedback on the vocals, and the occasional friend who would dance around wildly.
“I think the first tune we rehearsed was called (I Wanna) Marry Joanna,” says Holliday, “I’d never sang into a mic before and had no clue about levels, amps or speakers and started sweating after a couple of failed attempts to vocalise the words I had on a scrap of paper about smoking weed.”
Each track on ‘Hello Flower’ came together in the Pentagon rehearsal room, a fusion of hard-edged indie rock with bass funk rhythms and crunching guitar riffs spiraling into infinity. With a clear sixties influence, Joanna was impossible to ignore and irresistibly danceable. Listening back today, their music evokes fantasies of Hacienda acid trip jubilees, where the hook is secondary to the groove and attitude. Organic and jammy, their demos are infused with a kinetic energy, full of the defining youthful experience of figuring it out.
Their momentum grew quickly. They were interviewed on the cult Kiss FM by future Best Selling author and filmmaker Jon Ronson, performed at the 1500 capacity Ritz in Manchester, International 1 and Liverpool Polytechnic. The band secured coveted support slots for established acts of the time including Shack, Dr. Phibes and the House of Wax Equations, Rig, and Asia Fields. After recording several demos, Joanna had the opportunity to perform in London.
It seemed like a given. The A&R people would show up, the band would sign a contract backstage, and their local-legend status would evolve into international superstardom. They were already mentioning an upcoming record deal in interviews, with a bravado that inspired one journalist to describe Joanna as epitomising “the simple beauty of youth.” Bands like World of Twist, Charlatans, Rig and Paris Angels had all followed a similar route towards recognition and secured record deals. A few hours before their fateful London show after the band had sound-checked, singer Neil bumped into a girl he knew from school. She had started dating a guy with a good job and settled into London life and escaped beyond their small-town limitations. She’d made it out. Neil puffed out his chest and let her know about Joanna’s big show and imminent success. She laughed. Neil returned to the venue in a black mood, leading to a domino-like fall of morale. They were never offered a record deal.
As soon as doubt was seeded about the individual talent of any one member, and strategy became more important than expression, Joanna started to lose its magic. Wounded, they limped along for another year, never recovering their initial verve. This story doesn’t have the happy ending of instant success, but it does preserve something much more ephemeral and unique. Joanna constantly brushed shoulders with fame as manager and friend Martin Royle pulled the strings with a quiet determination in the background. A major player in the Liverpool scene, Dave Pichilingi, offered to manage the band. The Boardwalk, which later became the rehearsal space for Oasis, asked Joanna to headline their re-opening after a major refurb, selling the venue out. Was a certain young roadie called Noel Gallagher there to witness the evening while he was putting his own band together? Definitely. Hand-written letters on headed stationery, recently found in the attic of the Isle of Man home of Royle, show labels like Rough Trade, Factory Records and Polydor courted and encouraged the band to keep playing and recording.
Thirty-five years later, these long-forgotten ¼-inch reel tapes from Pentagon Studios were discovered in a Manchester apartment loft. These musical time capsules contained tracks the band members themselves hadn’t heard in over three decades, offering a poignant reconnection with their creative past and tantalising glimpses of what might have been. “We realised we were actually as good as we remembered,” saysAlty. The memories between the band members are blurred and contradictory but the tapes hold everything together, they are real, definite and irrefutable. With the release of ‘Hello Flower’, Joanna is no longer “the most popular band without a record out,” as NME called them in 1990, but their singular spirit is now available for anyone who wants a taste. The simple beauty of youth can only be experienced when you are invincible, fulfilling your natural destiny, buoyed by complete optimism… This record captures innocence untainted by failure. Beyond analysis, beyond critique, just lost in the groove.
As soon as Quinn Flanigan‘s bass opens “Brain Feeder” on Dog Lips‘ second album, Danger Forward, you know you’re in for a good time. The song, and all the others on the record, is a no-nonsense rocker that has you pumping your fist in the air, banging your head, or shoving people out of the way (at least in your fantasies).
“Who Knows” is a warped post-punk (the guitars from Griffin Ritzo and Owen Shepcaro!) gem. “I Am” staggers around the room like it’s had a few pints and is getting treacherously close to starting a brawl. The whole band sounds like they’re playing in a fuzzed-out blizzard on “Gush.”
“Voicemail Bomb Threat” is a great call-and-response punk track with Tim Graff having a great time behind his drum kit. As wild as that is, “Human Hybrid” is even wilder. The title track reminds me of some of IDLES‘ cuts with its smashing guitars and drums and half-growled, half-sang vocals.
Then, “The Reason” slides into the room looking and sounding like the coolest thing in the place. It has a bit of a gothic touch to it and Ritzo’s vocals are almost buried in reverb. It shows that Dog Lips could make an entire psych-rock record if they wanted. “Last Ride” turns the volume and anger back up for one last assault that leaves you out of breath.
There is danger on Danger Forward. The danger is that it might cause you to start a mosh pit in your cubicle farm, the pub, the elevator, or anywhere else. Get in and hold on when you play it.
I have no idea where Mordbear got their name. Is it a riff on “Mordor,” the dark land of Sauron from The Lord of the Rings books? Is it a combination of “Mordred,” the incestuous son of King Arthur and sorceress Morgan Le Fey and “bear?” Was “Murderbear” too clunky, or the name of an upcoming Aslyum Studios film?
I don’t know, but all three possibilities work for the massive doom sound of the band’s self-titled EP.
Starting off with “Like the Dead,” the EP pulls you in (down?) right away with Nico Martinez‘s sludgy bass and Tyler Balthaser‘s trippy and somewhat menacing guitar riffs. The song was inspired by a conversation Balthaser had with a veterinarian who ended up talking about a coming zombie apocalypse that he believed will begin in southern California.
“A Mirror with a Sea of Flames” was inspired by Tom Wolfe‘s famous book The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and goes full stoner metal as Erik Larson hammers out thudding heartbeat drums that seem determined to flatten everything around them. “The Alchemist” is a song / warning about the dangers of capitalism.
Much like the cover image of a faceless family enjoying a picnic while a giant ghost bear hovers over them, the EP has a sense of impending doom to it – as any good doom record should. It will be interesting to see and hear where Mordbear goes from here.
A compilation of twenty-two French disco and funk tracks from the 1970? Yes, please.
Kid Loco Presents French Funk Experience is loaded with gems you’d swear you heard in an obscure late night movie or while racing through a European airport – and a lot of these tracks are “library music” made for television and film. Take Bernard Estardy‘s killer “Gang Train” from 1972. The synth grooves are from 2072 and the drums are so tight you’d swear they were laid down by a drum machine and not a live human being…yet they are. Résonance‘s “OK Chicago” (1973) is loaded with sampled sirens, police radio chatter, and machine gun ricochets.
P.A. Dahan and Mat Camison break out the handclaps and the Hammond B-3 on “Pepper Drums” (1976). Estardy (who is all over this compilation either with his solo material or working with other artists) returns on the Doobie / Allman Brothers-like funk rocker “Vertigo Leitmotiv” from 1970. Trumpeter and band leader Pierre Dutour shows off his skill on 1974’s “Jungle Trumpet.”
Manu Dibango‘s “Africadelic” (1973) is a thrilling rush, and Pierre-Alain Dahan returns with Slim Pezin on the jaw-dropping, booty-shaking “Electronic Mutation” from 1976. Alain Goraguer‘s “Course de Ten” from 1973 wocka-wocka guitar riffs and “Le Baron” Estardy’s “Bongo Ring” from 1975 is, go figure, full of great hand percussion sounds. Sauveur Mallia, who played bass on Sid Vicious‘ cover of “My Way” no less, brings “All the Bass” and all the funk on this cut from 1979.
Speaking of bass, check out 1970’s “Indian Pop Bass” by Guy Pedersen with all it’s fat bass slaps, weird psych-flute notes, and prog-rock beats. The horn section on Big Jullien & His All Star‘s “Wake the Monster” from 1969 will knock you off your feet. Dahan and Camison’s “Long Playing Time” from 1976 has guitar in it that would make Steely Dan envious. Bernard Lubat‘s organ riffs on 1976’s “Aubergine Time” are outstanding. Ludovic Decosne and Pierre Daubresse‘s “Gloaming” from 1970 is delightfully fun and belongs in a Euro sex-comedy (if it’s not already in one).
Claude Engel gets all trippy with his guitar on the long version of “Belle Gueuse (A)” from 1972. The electric piano and bass on Raymond Guiot‘s “Basse Duetino” (1976) is so groovy you could almost put a turntable needle on it. André Ceccarelli‘s “Funk Number 2” (1970) is a perfect track for strutting / strolling at the club, and “Rythmiques Number 2” (1971) by Dahan is a quick beat drop you’ll want to sample in everything.
Tonio Rubio‘s “Red Medium” (1973) has slick guitar work, and even slicker organ grooves, throughout it. The prolific (over 10,000 tracks to his credit) Estardy comes back one more time for “Riviera Express” from 1973. The organ riffs on it are sometimes funky, sometimes freaky, and sometimes frightening. The compilation ends with 1973’s “Pepper Box” by The Peppers – who consist of Camison on keys, Dahan on drums, and Rubio on guitar. It’s a blast, full of great synth blasts, handclaps, and disco funk. Play it at every party.
This whole compilation is a great time and will cheer you up. You can’t help but groove to it. Blast it through your earbuds as you walk through Paris or down to the nearest boulangerie.
Today, Go Kurosawa announces his debut solo album, soft shakes, available now on vinyl via Guruguru Brain, with the digital release to follow on September 5th.
Multi-instrumentalist, producer, co-founder of the independent label Guruguru Brain and drummer/vocalist of Kikagaku Moyo, Go Kurosawa has spent the past decade building bridges between East and West, sound and silence, rock and ritual.
soft shakesis something different. A personal chapter in Go’s journey, it marks his first solo album, created entirely by himself and made, for the first time, purely for himself. What comes through is music that feels playful, layered, rhythmic and delightfully unexpected. Just like Go.
Today he shares with the internet a first and only glimpse of the album ahead of the album’s digital release. “Autowalk” is a mellow, understated summer jam, channeling the signature feel-good moods Go has curated throughout his work thus far. He comments: “I am a big fan of moving walkways in airports. Every time I see them, I get excited to choose if I should stand on it or walk on it and go a bit faster than usual. But you are not supposed to go as fast as possible, unlike the autobahn.”
After Kikagaku Moyo disbanded, Go spent some time producing records for other artists, but with soft shakes, there was no plan. Just the instinct to pick up an instrument, play, and see what might unfold.
As he puts it, “The whole framework is new. When I made music for the band, I always knew who would play what. This time, it was just me. No plan, no expectation. And weirdly, that became the concept: doing it all myself, for the first time.”
Go has a rare kind of musical instinct. He can play anything, hears everything, and yet never takes himself too seriously. For a long time, making music alone wasn’t part of the plan. Music had always been about connection. But over time, as he travelled, collected instruments and set up Guruguru Brain studio in Rotterdam, the sound of a solo voice emerged.
soft shakes came together between January and June in Rotterdam, through dark, rainy, quiet days. Each day, Go would head to the studio, pick up whatever instrument was around and simply play. The process was slow and instinctive. “If something still moved me the next day, I’d add to it. If not, I’d start something new. One step at a time, without pressure.”
Even as a solo record, the music doesn’t feel tight or controlled. It has the looseness of jamming, the joy of following where the sound wants to go. “I wanted that feeling, even if I was jamming with myself.”
The album artwork was created by his partner Ao, her first time doing artwork for a record. “It captures the freedom and boldness of trying something new and I love it,” he says.
soft shakes arrives at a moment of transition. Go recently relocated to Fukuoka, Japan, after years of living and working in Europe. “While making this album, we were deciding where to move. I knew it would be my last creation while living in Europe. When I listen back, I can hear that longing for something, towards a far away home.”
The record feels like the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. “Now I’m excited to build a studio in Japan and start again. I don’t know what will come next, but I want it to be shaped and influenced by new surroundings.”
And while this record might be personal, Go hopes it offers something to others too. “I wish people would travel somewhere else through music. You float around, lose track of time, and when the record ends, you feel the soft comfort of coming home again.”
