Four aces from one of the brothers behind the dope Ilian Tape label, out of Giesing, Munich (where people surf in the river: youtube.com/watch?v=7S3lHFGfbyI). Spaced, rocking, multi-pronged. Warmly recommended.
Lively, varied EP of slithery emissions, school of Actress. Zonked but grooving, glazed with sex. Is that Raymond ‘Juicy Fruit’ Jackson? The Walrus Of Love? A come-hither? A smack bottom?
Bracing portions of the screaming abdabs dressed as naked, hooligan machine-funk — fizzing, stomping, juddering and going mental in the furnace of high noon like whizzed-up children of the hydra’s teeth.
The Californian has a CCCP and a couple of the very best LIES, but this stomping, grisly, suspenseful, four-track assassinator tops the lot. You get plenty more prep and purpose, and a load more killing.
Crafted, varied EP from Kenneth Lay and Jason Carr, out of the Metasplice milieu in Philly. A couple of ant nests, a droner with an mbalax tic, and a monster-crunchy, sun-up soundscape. Boot cyan lean.
A spectacular array of forty-eight beauties on this killer shirt, expertly screen-printed.