Finally got a bunch of copies of this inspired collection of poetry, sex memoirs, paeans to post-rock poon and subcultural subterfuge by one of the most consistently savvy wordsmiths of the post-literate underground, Mr Byron Coley. Printed back in 2003 in an edition of 100 copies by Tom and Christina Carter of Charalambides, this one went precisely nowhere for reasons that are buried beneath many, many hangovers but here it is, finally. Stapled, A4 format with a buncha poems that touch on subjects as close to your heart as Jayne Mansfield's corpse, Barbara Bush's puke, Touch & Go Records, Lester Young and Albert Einstein, early-60s glamour, shaven versus unshaven armpits, Genesis P-Orridge and Jordi Valls, the art of the money shot, Alice Coltrane and a whole bunch more worthwhile musings on lady hair from a guy who does little else but. Highly recommended.

"Long-, long-, long-, loooooong-awaited and singular entry in the Charalambides and Klang Industries discographies; one of those does it really exist? items thats finally seeing daylight, or moonlight. A stark, unsettling and beautiful slice of duo Charalambides invocation/incantation, taken from the period between Jason Bill and Heather Leigh's tenures with the band and featuring extraordinary chord organ and vocal work from Christina and some signature lap steel mastery from Tom. Fans of the bands most recent, more song-based work will find this revelatory, long-time listeners will say ahhhh and settle in for the flight. Heavy vinyl, limited pressing, covers handiwork by Tom, the first release in years from Klang and a sign perhaps of a truly epic revival." "Long-awaited Klang debut of Charalambides. This record has been brewing since 2000, and is now finally available under the auspices of Eclipse/Klang. Two side-long improvisations in much the same vein as IN CR EA SE, a bit more topographical perhaps, but still horizontally serene and horizonless. Chord organ, lap steel, vocals." --Wholly Other.

Much requested CD reissue of this hard-to-score Charalambides release, originally issued as a Peter King lathe LP on Eclipse in an edition of only 100 copies. Dedicated to Bruce Connor, it features inkblot artwork by Heather Leigh. The sonics are supremely dilated and fully orbit the kinda late-90s/early ‘00s mystery zone that would combine extended improvisatory modes ala FMP/Incus with F/X clouded dreamtone works, gorgeous otherworldly vocals from Christina and sudden surges of volume pedal gliss from Tom. This is still one of their most beautifully fucked recordings and speaks of their ability to inhabit the furthest edges of form while still sounding like the best rock band of your life. Can’t think of anyone today who could pull off the same kind of seamless psychedelic schizophrenia with such fucking aplomb. A great record from a great group, highly recommended.

Edition of 214 one-sided LP with blood red silkscreened flip. Looped and live collaged ritual atmospherics and crude guitar/drum psych stand-offs that orbit a similar zone to early NNCK from a group that feature Tom Carter of Charalambides, Shawn McMillen (Ash Castles On The Ghost Coast), Brian Smith (Iron Kite et al) and Blake Carlisle. Less drone-focussed than previous releases and deeper into a kind of savant ESP Disk Godz/Fugs séance style.

Deluxe vinyl edition of this classic solo album from Heather Leigh (Jailbreak/Scorces/Jandek et al) originally released in a tiny edition on cassette by Fag Tapes. Two fully-extended high metal masses for amplified pedal steel and vocals that blow all notions of form, fidelity and frilly fucking folk-picking fops to the kinda sweet metallic ribbons previously worn as crowns by Keiji Haino, Jojo Hiroshige and Teenage Jesus & The Jerks. Very different in tone and attack from the recent Jailbreak LP, Jailhouse Rock has a more amorphous sound, with muzzy smears of guitar caked in NZ-style fuzz and clouds of high string tone that conjure the miasmic electronics of Maurizio Bianchi. One of Heather’s most blasted sides with all-new nuts artwork by Heath Moreland. “Jailhouse Rock is in fact a wax reissue of a long OOP 2006 cassette classic on Michigan crud factory Fag Tapes. It was a fave of ours that year (and every year), so it feels extra celebratory to be able to offer up a freshly remastered (by Pete Swanson) LP edition of the album for global re-appreciation. Sprawling, long-form descents/ascents into mythic electric disorientation, powered by her trademark recipe of FX-soaked pedal steel and voice. Jailhouse feels loosely more aligned with a mid-aughts drone/noise aesthetic than the outsider dirt road Americana of her Devil If You Can Hear Me LP (also on NNF), but the distinction is a slight one. Side A swims in swooping sheets of vox and tempestuous wind tunnel dynamics before slowly dying away to wheezing disembodied harmonica. The B piece begins in a more overtly beautiful mode, a trinity of crystalline notes picked and stretched until they’re transformed into a rapturous sky of textural distortion. Sensual and vertigo-inducing in equal measure. Black vinyl LPs in jackets with brand new paint/collage artwork by Heath Moerland (of Sick Llama, Slither, Odd Clouds, etc). Edition of 400.” – NNF. Highly recommended!

Latest broadcast from Rob Fisk’s Common Eider, King Eider sees the group expanded to a four-piece with guest appearances from Liz Harris (Grouper) and Tom Carter (Charalambides) playing austere rural drone that owes as much to Arvo Part as it does to Popol Vuh. Piano, bowed strings and soaring psychedelic guitar combine in dark cinematic madrigals that move in orchestral sweeps to euphoric crescendos before dispersing into clouds of foggy tone. The closing track, featuring both Harris and Carter, revisits the autumnal drone style of Grouper’s Way Their Crept via hazy choral sonics and non-corporeal guitar. An impressive, ambitious set. Comes with a fold-out poster sleeve and a free download. 

New duo project from Tom Carter of Charalambides and Marc Orleans of Sunburned Hand Of The Man. If you’ve caught any of the recent solo blats from Tom Carter since his relocation to NYC then you’ll know that that these days his guitar is fully set to shred and this is a stunning document of two string-thinkers working with maximal freedom and organic rhythms. The opening “Eyes Of Jewels, Mirrored Bodies” marries Orleans great fingerpicking style – which comes from a similar place to Glenn Jones – to Tom’s wild west coast style. Later tracks explode the blueprint even further, marring a 90s underground feel for squeal with an immolating post-Sonny Sharrock aesthetic. Easily one of the wildest sides either of these guys have cut and if you’re into bloodied six string euphoria then you’ll even be able to forgive them their ‘poem’ to Jack Rose. Stick to the string-slinging, brothers! 150g vinyl with download. 

New duo project from Tom Carter of Charalambides and Marc Orleans of Sunburned Hand Of The Man. If you’ve caught any of the recent solo blats from Tom Carter since his relocation to NYC then you’ll know that that these days his guitar is fully set to shred and this is a stunning document of two string-thinkers working with maximal freedom and organic rhythms. The opening “Eyes Of Jewels, Mirrored Bodies” marries Orleans great fingerpicking style – which comes from a similar place to Glenn Jones – to Tom’s wild west coast style. Later tracks explode the blueprint even further, marring a 90s underground feel for squeal with an immolating post-Sonny Sharrock aesthetic. Easily one of the wildest sides either of these guys have cut and if you’re into bloodied six string euphoria then you’ll even be able to forgive them their ‘poem’ to Jack Rose. Stick to the string-slinging, brothers!

Edition of 300 copies 7” on Metal Rouge’s own private imprint, the first instalment of their Alone Together series of solo performances. Using nothing but bells and vocals Christina casts a frozen spell over space and time, the sound of her breath expanding via phantom doses of reverb into an abyss of floating tone, singing in a heartbreak style that would reconcile Suzanne Langille with the outer space poetics of Amy Sheffer. These tracks wouldn’t have been out of place on one of her classic Many Breaths side like Human As Guitar or I Am All The Same Song. Highly recommended.

Great glob of profound solo thought by this confirmed margin walker. A dose more fractured than his Charalambides work, Root King makes for a perfect late-night listen as Carter scrambles chords and brain cells via electric and lap steel guitar while choruses of far-off bells rattle like the bones of tiny fish dancing in yr veins. Real rock bottom blues.

Fantastic collection of English lyrics (w/French translations) and art from American folk spirit Michael Hurley with an introduction by American rock crit Byron Coley and hand-stitched by comic artist Julie Doucet in an edition of 750 copies. Hurley’s world is a surreal road-going cartoon of broken hearts, werewolves, drinking, fighting, falling in and out of love, folk wisdom and revenant Americana and this reads almost as good as it plays. All lyrics calligraphed by Hurley himself alongside illustrative sketches.