SINGAPORE SLING – KILL KILL KILL (Songs about Nothing)

A black field burnt by fire. A volcano exploding. Water breaking the dam, mountain drowning. The tower tumbling down mined by TNT. The fury of elements, deafening. Nothing left, like nothing happened, nothing was, nothing will be.
Piano, yes, beaten, delirious. And those cellos, raped. Trumpets, the apocalypse’s four horsemen. Guitars, shooting and weeping.
This Singapore Sling album is tight, compelling, glorious, inspired. Rebellious. It leaves you speechless. Arousing and filthy rock’n’roll with no excuses, desolate sad steel echoes at the desert’s corner between “nothing and nowhere”, unsatisfied appetites, free drunk dancings. Anger. Saudade. A Jesus chasing the merchants from the temple. A prisoner breaking his chains to kill tyrants.
A master of his weapons. He’s trained. This war is planned, no failure admitted. “Nuthing’s Theme” is meant to be played by an orchestra under the darkest sky with aurora dancing. A Ravellian’s classical modern and timeless composition, ambitious, fearless. A colourful and powerful crescendo built around minimal structures, a call to fight for a savage army clothed in rags, holding swords made of light. No more space for miserablism or self-annihilation, no time for doubts. No mercy, ever. 
The emperor’s waves here they come for justice, with terrible beauty.
And when the nothing’s done, when love and hate have consumed themselves, finally silence.
Ashla.

Out on Fuzz Club Records February 02nd 2017.

Driftwood Pyre – Driftwood Pyre

Take me for a ride, let’s jump into your old grey pick-up, we can grab a crate of beers at the nearest gas station, some sandwiches too. We’ll take the blue road through the desert, and drive straight for miles and miles encountering only vultures, snakes, and agaves. Let’s put some good old shit into the stereo, I think I can bring my old tapes yeah? Some MC5, and Blue Cheer, figuring the world is still dreaming and fighting for a better day. But we won’t need no future, just the here and now, we’ll camp for the night under wool blankets into the back of the van and the stars will shine brighter and closer just for our eyes. We will talk about Woodstock and the indian tribes who used to live here. You can bring your guitar and me my tambourine, to play some tunes around the fire. The day after we shall head to that small village where they still have a saloon, locals will give us news about the corn harvest, we can for sure find a place for the night and have a shower outside with water from a sun-heated tank. Who knows maybe they’ll need some seasonal workers too and we could be of help, it would be such a free life, hard work for sure but free, riding horses and eating prickly pears from their succulent leaves. There will be a festival late August, with bearded half-naked men with tattoos playing fuzzy guitars and women with brown suede boots and bandanas. We’ll get lost and get high in the spires of sounds reverberating and levitating with the dust arisen by sirocco from the red ground, we’ll see the whole spectrum of the colours of love and we’ll drink laughing from the golden cup of happiness.
Take me for a ride now, my dear friend, let’s never come back anymore, and everything’s gonna be allright.

Driftwood Pyre were founded in 2012 by Liam Watkins (First Communion Afterparty) and Aaron James (Rocking Horse People). They live and work in Minneapolis, and their debut album is out now on Exag Records.

Dead Magick

Scott Weiland. Stone Temple Pilots. Trending themes today, on every social network, on national magazines websites, even on TV. Suddenly everyone finds a memory, a precious one, related to him. Suddenly everyone is a fan, everyone will miss him, everyone feels time is running by and away and share videos of a band almost no one had posted about in ages. I won’t add more words about a man who just died too early. I just wonder what’s the immense power of death, providing a shortcut for immediate sanctification, forgiving all sins, giving a certification for eternal glory. What’s wrong with it? It sounds like an early death – preferably due to suicide or overdose – is the extreme and never failing way to be certified as a 100% rock’n’roll star. “For Real”, as Richey Manics wrote on his arm in blood. No more pretending, no more performing, no cheating. Death is death, and through it you get respect and adoration. What’s wrong with it again? Is it rock’n’roll so close to Greek idea of the young hero dying in battles deserving the status of a semi-god? Do we need this macabre fascination to appreciate talent and worship a song forever? Only the dead are untouchable ones free from the torture of criticising and the often ridicoulous decline of fallen stars?
I would personally wish rock’n’roll and music won’t be needing any more martyrs, and that personal tragedies won’t be confused with musical and artistic talent and neither considered a sadly necessary background for it.
What’s very hard is to hate yourself, and still do not want to die.

MDME SPKR – HUMANOID EP

This comes down heavy.
Hard, bluesy, grungey, rrriotous, angry, punkish.
With a challenging, critical, edgy, political underline.
And theatrical, these four songs are clearly born to impress on stage.
PJ, Janis, the L7, Poison Ivy.
It’s a really ambitious club to be part of, these women aim for speed.
So, in this nevertheless interesting self-released debut – London‘s MDME SPKR push on the accelerator all the time, driving their city car at a perilous speed through dirty guitars, shouted vocals, distorted proggy bits, taking at 120mph every turn to be sure your trip won’t be boring and your attention won’t be turned away.
It actually works, but at the end you feel more like having had a ride on a bumper car at the amusement park, your head spinning and your stomach sending warning signs about having had too much.