Articles
H. Nakamura's Twilight
Mark Templeton's Ballads

Albums
A Cloakroom Assembly
Ametsub
Anthesteria
Arandel
Alexander Berne
Boxharp
Joseph Capriati
Enrico Coniglio
Cristal
Dapayk Solo
Taylor Deupree
Distant Fires Burning
Federico Durand
Fear Falls Burning
Alan Fitzpatrick
Flying Lotus
Roel Funcken
Harley Gaber
Tobias Hellkvist
Christopher Hipgrave
Hummingbird
Ital Tek
Mathew Jonson
Kabutogani
Haruka Nakamura
Lance Austin Olsen
Ontayso
Pawn
Psychoangelo
ROTFLOL
Michael Santos
Dirk Serries
Signaldrift
Talvihorros
thisquietarmy & Cortez
Jennifer Walshe
Weisman & Davis
Tim Xavier
Year Of No Light

Compilations / Mixes
Arto Mwambe
Clicks & Cuts 5
Dark Matter
dOP
J
Ben Klock
Party Animals
So Far (So Good)
We Are One, In The Sun

EPs
Automobile, Swift
Breitbandkater
Pacheko & Pocz
Cylon
Dirty Culture
Terrence Dixon
Kyle Bobby Dunn
Enduser
Timo Garcia
Kez YM
Little Fritter
Monoceros
David Newlyn
One Second Bridge
Padang Food Tigers
Rameses III
Ryonkt
Nigel Samways
Simon Scott
Shoosh
Mark Templeton
Ten and Tracer
Tracey Thorn
Stanislav Vdovin
Vdovin + Shaydullina

Year Of No Light: Ausserwelt
Conspiracy Records

And you thought MONO was heavy. Year Of No Light brings a triple(!) guitar attack to its sophomore album Ausserwelt with the Bordeaux, France-based sextet bulldozing its way through four epic tracks. Regardless of whether it's called Black Metal, Sludge, or Metal Drone, the group's forty-eight-minute follow-up to 2005's Nord makes for one powerful listening experience. Guitars wail in agony like dying dinosaurs raising their heads for one final look at the sun, while bass, drums, and electronics generate tortured drone atmospheres and tribal incantations. Bassist Johan Sebenne, drummers Bertrand Sebenne and Mathieu Mégemont, and guitarists Pierre Anouilh, Jérôme Alban, and Shiran Kaidine survive the incinerating meltdown of the two-part “Perséphone”—all howling guitar riffs and deathly drumming—before the doom-laden “Hiérophante” rolls in with its own distinct brand of crushing, low-end brutality. The group stokes the fire to such an awesome pitch during the latter, the guitar theme roaring at the tune's center is rendered almost inaudible when it's buried within the torrential mass. True to the group's name, no light whatsoever is allowed to filter in during the album, and the final track, “Abbesse,” is no exception. There may in fact be a choir intoning a desperate plea for deliverance during the closer but again one would have to peel back layers of monstrous guitar distortion in order to be sure. Don't be fooled, though: there's definitely music in the group's tracks; one just has to listen hard—and not be scared away by the volume and intensity—for it to come through.

July 2010