Mats Gustafsson on alto, tenor, baritone, and bass saxophones, and flute, and Tony Lugo on drums and electronics… but playing separately from each other… then both of them devising a form of interactive exchange with a life of its own, as a third collaborator.
Mastered by Lasse Marhaug; artwork by Peter Brötzmann.
From a new Italian label to watch out for.
‘What the fuck is it?’, it wonders. ‘Interaction and FRICTION.’ ‘Play it loud.’

A staggering haul of early Niney 45s, from 1969-1972. Out-of-this-world reggae genius, with only the Upsetter for company. Unmissable.

Electrifying extracts from a Sunday service in the last snake-handling church in the Appalachians: the trance-like rhythms of a demented kind of rockabilly punk, with duelling guitars, concussive trap drums, and possessed, howling vocals.

“I’d sworn to stay far away from the snakes at the service,” recalls the recording engineer, “but instead they were waved in my face as they coiled in the preachers’ hands, and I crouched down at the foot of the altar tending to the equipment. The pastor soon was bitten and blood splattered, pooling on the floor. The female parishioners hurriedly came to wipe up the mess, and it instantly became clear just what the rolls of paper towels stacked on the pulpit had been for. You can actually hear this moment transpire towards the end of the track ‘Don’t Worry It’s Just a Snakebite (What Has Happened to This Generation?)’. The congregation leapt to its feet and a mini mosh-pit formed. The tag-team preachers huffed handkerchiefs soaked in strychnine, as they circled like aggro frontmen and an elderly worshipper held the flame of a candle to her throat, closing her eyes and swaying. The church PA blew out from the screams as a bonnet-wearing senior whacked away at a trap kit that dwarfed her. It was the most metal thing I’d ever seen, rendering Slayer mere kids play.”