Ping!

Still here good people, just been quiet, working out how life works now, and you know what? I think I might just have the hang of it. Sick, but no no sicker, and considering what I've got, that's as good as it gets, so that's good enough for me.

I will be writing more again now, both here and on Twitter, just needed a break from the whole blogging thing to get away from the idea of writing about being sick and well, it's such an integral part of my life now I don't really feel the urge to bang on about it.

Anyways, fuck all this, hope y're all good out there, and I'm actually going to catch up on all yr writing (you know who you are) and, I should imagine, roundly take the piss with the comments. In the meantime, I'm going to listen to Tony Oxley's Four Compositions For Sextet (which is a hell of a lot less dry and academic than it sounds) and Andrew Hill's un-fucking-touchable Compulsion!!!!!*. Oh yeah, it's a free jazz Monday, no doubt 'bout that.

And, this is important, if you like sludge, old AmRep or just good old-fashioned low end filth, go and buy a copy of the new Palehorse album, Harm Starts Here (Candlelight) immediately, it's exceedingly toothsome and your ears will thank you.

*Yep, it really does have five exclamation marks in the title. It was the 60s.

Vete A La Mierde

Vatican Shadow. Really? You genuinely think this is good? Please. I mean, you have heard The Crackdown right? Cabaret Voltaire? Yeah, them, after Chris Watson left and they went shit. Seriously people, paramilitary uniforms and muggy, static filled military music, beats that a ham-fisted pig could render funkier, and dated, childish "shock" tactics allied to self-consciously retro 80s synth revivalism and a return to the completely outmoded industrial tactics of the 70s/80s. Do us all a favour and fuck off. Unless you actually want to be a third-rate Muslimgauze for the early 21st century, in which case you've succeeded in your quest by releasing (and then expensively rereleasing on vinyl when the original cassette edition has sold out) every fucking single insignificant fart you've committed to tape. You are not releasing samizdat bulletins of defiance from behind a totalitarian wall, you are a middle-class American with a relatively comfortable life who owns a record label, a distro, and a shop, who is doing nothing but preaching to the fucking industrial choir.

More soon...

El Arándano

Myrrh - Myrrh (Soft Abuse)
Sarin Smoke - Vent (Mie Music)
Cut Hands - Black Mamba (Susan Lawly)
Laurie Spiegel - Expanding World (Unseen Worlds)
Juju & Jordash - Techno Primitivism (Dekmantel)
Gato Barbieri - In Search Of The Mystery (ESP-Disk)
Birch Cooper - I Was A Teacher (Digitalis)
Matt Carlson - All Moments (NNA Tapes)
Matt Carlson - Particle Language (Draft)
Outer Space - II (Blast First Petite)
Detroit Escalator Co. - Excerpts (Peacefrog)
C. C. Hennix - Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage (Important)
Marion Brown - Geechee Recollctions/Sweet Earth Flying (Impulse!)
Ricardo Villalobos - Dependant & Happy (Perlon)
Pharoah Sanders - In The Beginning (ESP-Disk)
Henry Flynt - Ascent To The Sun (Recorded)
Infinity Window - Artificial Midnight (Arbor)
Plastic Crimewave Sound - Flashing Open (Eclipse)
Rara In Haiti - Street Music Of Haiti (Soul Jazz)
Ben Nash/Magic Lantern - Split (Blackest Rainbow)

La Nueva Edad

There's a lot of wibble in the air these days. We're in the midst of a veritable glut of synth music these days, and let's face it, most of it's either crap or sounds like it's fucking 1973, and in some incurable cases, both. Other that that, an awful lot of it is just so terribly fucking boring*. As ever though, buried deep in the shit are a few nuggets of electronic gold.

Like Matt Carlson's All Moments LP (NNA Tapes), or Akashic Record (Spectrum Spools) and II (Blast First Petite) by Outer Space, created by musicians who actually realise that starting the arpeggiator on yr modular and mucking about with the knobs just doesn't fucking cut it anymore (and frankly, was probably getting a bit fucking boring by the mid 70s). Synthesizers are amazing things, capable of generating genuinely new tonalities and modes of expression in the hands of a skilled user, but also well able to just act as sonic signifiers for lazy hipsters record collections and their urge to display their "knowledge" to other, similarly limited dickheads.

I'm not saying that every single sound and idea has to be new and unheard, but I do find it somewhat amusing that instruments designed to break free of traditional performance and timbral modes are now so often being used to recreate their own past, especially as so much of the synth/electronic music of the 60s and 70s that's been reissued in the last few years perversely manages to sound more modern and certainly more daring than it's modern incarnations, and not just because the old stuff was the frontier then. There's both an edge and a sense of playfulness to much earlier synth/electronic music, elements sorely fucking lacking these days, a fidgety restlessness born of genuine experimentation and the knowledge that an experiment can fail which I'm just not hearing nearly as much as I'd fucking like to.

But no, so comfy and safe has this world become we've even seen the rehabilitation of new age music. Let me repeat and expand on that, with added expletives; the rehabilitation of new fucking age music, the single most irredeemably fucking self-satisfied, up-it's-own-arsehole quasi-spiritual ooh-aren't-the-natives-in-touch-with-nature-on-like-a-totally-other-level tinkly floaty crap that only the sort of cunt who takes DMT and thinks they have genuinely communed with an astral intelligence could make, and only the sort of fucknut who thinks that orgone energy can cure cancer and make it rain would listen to. Fucking hell people, really? Torpid fucking musical cotton wool as a soporific for the world's rough edges and rose-tinted arpeggios from a non-existent past are not what I fucking want to hear from "the instrument of the future" in two thousand and fucking twelve.

And it doesn't have to be like this. Like I said earlier, there's some beautiful stuff out there, and the albums I mentioned earlier are examples of that. I purposely chose them to highlight, because they aren't free of the presence of earlier musics, but neither do they slavishly adhere to previous templates, the synthesis of the past, the ubiquitous influences of Kosmische music and 60s tape music and whatnot are still there, but they don't constitute the whole, they exist as echoes, recontextualized in an unexpected fashion and embedded in a contemporary framework, allied to genuinely original compositional and sonic ideas. Outer Space's II is a case in point; it's liberally smothered in Mellotron, an instrument which screams loon pants and wizard hats louder than almost any other, but because the person playing it actually has a functioning, creative brain, it drags that archaic beast of an instrument kicking and screaming into the present. I have no problem with history, I just don't necessarily want to fucking live in it...

*That Steve Hauschlidt LP on Kranky manages to combine all three of these traits. I have heard Edgar Froese's Aqua you know. Please try harder. Or maybe not bother. Don't even get me started on Dolphins Into The Future. Even the fucking name annoys me.

Mirra

Take one part Parson Sound/International Harvester style slo-mo mong rock, one part prime, blown-out UK psych/noise dirge (think pre-Carved Into Roses Skullflower) and stir in the ecstatic string work of Agathe Max or Henry Flynt, and you have the rough makings of my record of the year (so far): Myrrh, by Myrrh (Soft Abuse).

It really is a fucking beauty. An electric viola and drums duo whose crawling feedback mantras don't so much ascend into the sky as burn a fucking hole through the planet. This record presses more of my buttons than anything I've heard in a fucking age. Blues sodden modal viola riffs, plucked and bowed, slowly rotate round a granite-hard core of saturated drum thud (courtesy of Andie Mazorol), the like of which I've only previously encountered when Stuart Dennison was still a fulltime member of Skullflower, each beat landing like the foot of a very stoned elephant, raising huge clouds of tape dust that coats every surface in volcanic ash before Jackie Beckley kicks in the feedback afterburner and cuts the viola loose with a high and lonesome chainsaw wail, a screaming, roaring, beautiful wall of scorched earth fuzz that sends shivers up my fucking spine every single time I hear it. This is psychedelic mountain music people, and I urge you to seek it out. In the meantime, there's a couple of tasters here to be going on with...

Nuevamente

Yes people of Brighton (and Hove), it's back. Same name, new venue. Louder, longer and later. Five quid, four acts, three of whom are very good indeed, and one who I've never heard but sounds pretty cool, plus myself and some other good people (not sure who, otherwise I'd tell yer) playing records at you at high volume; I believe the kids refer to this as "DJing"

All the details you need be here

αMT - La Banda Sonora

Can - The Lost Tapes (Spoon)
Sunflare - Ghetto Blast (Batshit)
Crystal Syphon - Family Evil (Roaratorio)
Ricardo Villalobos - Any Ideas (Perlon)
Tyndall - Traumland (Sky)
Ben Nash/Magic Lantern - Split (Blackest Rainbow)
Eleh/Duane Pitre - Split (Important)
Actress - R.I.P (Honest Jon's)
The Psychedelic Aliens - Psycho African Beat (Academy)
Otis Spann - The Biggest Thing Since Colossus (Blue Horizon)
Ultramarine - Acid (West Norwood Cassette Library)
Doubleheart - Salsa Apocalypso (Nonplus)
Jon Convex - Radar (Nonplus)
Conrad Schnitzler/Ricardo Villalobos/Max Loderbauer - Zug Reshaped (M=Minimal)
Kelan Philip Cohran & The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - s/t (Honest Jon's)
Chicago Underground Duo  - 12° Of Freedom (Thrill Jockey)
Shockabilly - Colosseum (Shimmy Disc)
Cristian Vogel - The Inertials (Shitkatapult)
Jim Plotkin & KK Null - Aurora (Sentrax)
The Orb - Okie Dokie, It's The Orb On Kompakt (Kompakt)

Blog De Ahora

Just a quick post to let you lovely people know that Now have a blog which can be found here and which is most informative. Do check the releases section as there are some rather fine records there which can be downloaded for the extremely reasonable price of bugger-all. Public service announcement ends.

Música Para Los Maestros De Reptiles

Portraits - Portraits (Important)
Mad River - Jersey Sloo (Shagrat)
Anna Själv Tredje - Tussilago Fanfara (Silence)
Herbcraft - Discover The Bitter Water Of Agharta (Hello Sunshine)
Herbcraft - Ashram To The Stars (Hello Sunshine)
Sunflare - Young Love (Cubic Pyramid)
Morkobot - Morbo (Supernatural Cat)
Boddika - Acid Jackson (Swamp 81)
Yob - Atma (Profound Lore)
Head Boggle - Headboggle (Spectrum Spools)
Moloko - I Am Not A Doctor (Echo)
Franco Falsini - Cold Nose (Spectrum Spools)
Chicago Underground Duo - Age Of Energy (Northern Spy)
Ufomammut - Oro Opus Primum (Supernatural Cat)
Mother Mallard's Portable Masterpiece Co. - 1970-73 (Cuneiform)
Shackleton - Music For The Quiet Hour/Drawbar Organ (Woe To The Septic Heart)
Duane Pitre & Pilotram Ensemble - Organised Pitches Occurring In Time (Important)
Bitchin' Bajas - Water Wrackets (Kallistei Editions)
Bitchin' Bajas - Vibraquatic (Kallistei Editions)
Tyndall - Sonnenlicht (Sky)

La Locura Italiano

I've completely lost my fucking voice. All that comes out is this weird bassy rasp which sounds more like a broken EDP Wasp than a human voice, accompanied by a sensation akin to some fucker forcing a cheese grater down my gullet. Still, laryngitis aside, I'm actually in a damn good mood, and not just 'cos my throat-soother of choice, Isle Of Jura Elixir*, is so fucking delicious...

One of the reasons I'm in a good mood is because one of my favourite bunch of doom-mongers**, mad Italian space cadets Ufomammut, have got their act together again after a couple of disappointingly Isis-esque (or fucking boring, if you prefer, as far as I'm concerned the two terms are perfectly interchangeable) albums*** and remembered what they're fucking good at, namely riffs that sound like the Sun collapsing, incomprehensible cosmic bellowing, and huge swathes of wibbling analogue synths. Colossally dumb space doom of the highest fucking order, and essential listening for connoisseurs of heavy and stupid. Oh yeah, it's called Oro - Opus Primum and it's on Supernatural Cat, in case you were wondering.

Also on Supernatural Cat are another bunch of marvellous loons who go by the names Lin, Len and Lan, and are collectively known as Morkobot. They may be Ufomammut under another name, they may not, I have no idea, mainly because they have metal cubes for heads, as you can see...

A bass, drums and synth trio, they specialise in angular, convoluted space/noiserock and vaguely remind me of an instrumental Supernova-era Today Is The Day, albiet without the gun fetish and raging misanthropy, and their latest, Morbo, sounds (a bit) like a King Crimson loving spider jamming jazz-rock hardcore with Tar§. In other words, very bendy and very good. Goddammit, they even chuck in lashings of slide bass, and apart from Mark Sandman and me, there really aren't many practitioners of that dark art around. And Mark Sandman's been dead for years, so if you crave the injured elephant call of bottleneck bass you know where to go. They're also so tight it fucking hurts, chucking odd time signatures around like it ain't no thang and they never, ever veer into the dread zone of prog toss. If you like NoMeansNo, you'll fucking shit yrself over this lot. Fucking brilliant.





Right. More later, but the painkillers are kicking in and my brain wants to take a power nap.

*12yo, sweet, fruity and honeyed. Get thee to a Sainsbury's and grab a bottle. You can't buy it anywhere else as far as I know.

**With the emphasis on the mong.

***Eve and Idolum. Really fucking boring. Unlike the preceding three LPs, Godlike Snake, Snailking and Lucifer Songs which are simply fucking sublime.

§Another brilliant AmRep band no one seems to remember any more.

Alto Tiempo

Three tracks into the new High On Fire album, De Vermis Mysteriis, something wonderful happens. After Des Kensal's mid-paced tattoo has rolled round a few times, without warning Matt Pike's guitar scythes in, the drums hang suspended for a heartbeat or two, and then... Fuck... I mean FUCK, there are riffs, there are High On Fire riffs, and then there's this. This song, Fertile Green, is everything HOF have threatened to be, a time-threshing relativistic switchback, hurtling unstoppably through the Metalverse, dragging and ripping space in it's wake. Take Devilution's time-bent riffery, ally it to Silver Back's outright fucking ferocity*, stir in a touch of that 'bars as long as the breath required' thing that you'd normally associate more with Conference Of The Birds/Pilgrimage-era Om than this Mach 10 dragster, add one of Mr Pike's most unhinged solos for a quite some time and you have this, an actual goddamn future fucking classic. Now go bang yr head.



*This LP is more in the Blessed Black Wings mould than the last couple. I am most definitely not complaining.

Río Loco

It's hard to express just how much I fucking love this song. It is, quite simply, a motherfucker*. I'd advise turning this up very, very loud and playing it at least twice.



Quick note for anyone whose appetite has been whetted by this and wants to check out Mad River's glorious first LP, do not buy the double cd reissue that's got the inferior second album, Paradise Bar & Grill, in the same package. The reason Mad River sounds so weird and wired is that it was accidentally mastered at slightly too high a speed, giving it a sharp, edgy, bad trip vibe, and someone decided to remaster the fucker not only at the correct speed, but in such a way as to dull the hugely trebly impact of the three (oh yes, three) guitarists, rendering one of 'em almost inaudible on some tracks. It's a fucking disgrace, and I urge you to seek out an unfucked-with copy.

*And the theme song of my late teenage years. But we'll say no more about that.

Alemáns

Keeping with the spacerock theme, here's the band that arguably invented the whole thing*, Amon Düül II, knocking seven bells of psychedelic shit out of their classic Phallus Dei sometime in 1968.



*Their bass player, Dave Anderson, undoubtedly invented spacerock bass. There's a good reason he ended up in Hawkwind a couple of years later...

Dave Brock Es Una Verga

I fucking love Hawkwind*. We know this. And I've always been inordinately fond of the album Quark, Strangeness & Charm, I mean, it may not be the last word in brain-destroying spacerock like Space Ritual, but it does contain Bob Calvert's greatest moments with them and an emphasis on motorik that tends to go unremarked, not to mention a certain stylistic similarity to early Roxy Music. So it is with great delight that I present this clip of Hawkwind doing Quark, Strangeness & Charm in, I'd guess, 1977, on the Marc Bolan show of all fucking places...

All together now:

 Copernicus had those renaissance ladies crazy about his telescope...



Oh, where's Dave Brock I hear you cry? Chucking a strop because he's not the frontman. He's not even playing the guitar on this version, it's Adrian Shaw (bass) as Brock didn't even bother turn up to play on the version they'd be miming to because it was on a kids show. Twat. Ah, the 70s.

And yes, Bob does have a hawk attached to this wrist. No, I don't know why either.

*When I say Hawkwind, I mean pre-1980, when, let's face it, it all went tits-up and stayed there except for the very rare nugget of spacey brilliance amongst all the crusty dung. Ginger Baker in Hawkwind? Fuck off. They were never the same after Levitation, an album many people inexplicably seem to like.

Música Roedor

I fucking love this record. It's genuinely fucking bonkers. Especially as the preceding album (Sorcerors) was pretty standard vaguely psychy folk stuff*. Not sure what happened in the intervening couple of years, but it sounds like it involved a Soft Machine album and a fuckload of acid. This is the shortest (and heaviest) track, a mere eight minutes compared to the expansive weirdness of the nineteen minute opener, Sun Symphonica, or the jazzfolkpsychprogfroth they work up over thirteen minutes on Call Of The Wild, but what a fucking eight minutes. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mice And Rats In The Loft by Jan Dukes De Grey.



*Not my bag, too much fucking Donovan and Tull in the mix for me.

Ahora

More fun at The Bird's Nest, as the rather fine Now* are having a bit of a shindig to celebrate the release of their new lathe cut 10"+ cd on $500 Dollar Limit**, my old mucker Marcelo Madrid and me good self will be trawling through our respective record collections to bring you only the finest in sonic delights in between and after sets by Now, Alex Charles, and Now + Alex Charles.

And it's fucking free. Not on a school night either, so you've got no excuse for not coming down and joining like-minded and lovely people in alcohol-fuelled bacchanal, dancing like a tit should the mood take you and buying some rather beautifully put together limited edition records for an extremely reasonable price.

More info be here

*The only band I've ever been in that has proper songs and stuff. They kick serious arse and have done for some considerable time, and if you haven't heard 'em yet, I suggest you get yrself over to their Soundcloud and remedy the situation immediately.

**Don't have an url for 'em yet. Stay tuned.

Sobredosis Del Sonido

Frak - Musika Electronic (Digitalis)
Moebius - Blue Moon OST (Sky)
Fabric - A Sort Of Radiance (Spectrum Spools)
Nackt Insecten - Reality Bridge (Blackest Rainbow)
Tlaotlon - Squirt Image Flex (Trensmat)
Harmonia - Deluxe (Brain)*
VCMG - SSSS (Mute)**
Cluster & Eno - Cluster & Eno (Sky)
Cluster - Soweisoso (Sky)
Panabrite - Soft Terminal (Digitalis)
Suzanne Ciani - Lixiviation (Finders Keepers)
Total - Eternity's Beautiful Frontispiece (VHF)
Revenge - Scum.Collapse.Eradication (Osmose)
Chris Forsyth - Paranoid Cat (Family Vineyard)
Roy Montgomery - Silver Wheel Of Prayer (VHF)
Chris Forsyth & Koen Holtkamp - Early Astral (Blackest Rainbow)
Flying Saucer Attack - Flying Saucer Attack (VHF)
Red Electric Rainbow - Dark Days (Aguirre)
Sunlore - Sunlore (Tequila Sunrise)
T++ - Wireless (Honest Jon's)

*Possibly the greatest Krautrock record of them all.

**Vince Clark and Martin Gore getting their techno wiggle on. It's fucking fantastic.

Los Frutos Secos

This record, Muzika Electronic, is the fucking nuts, no two ways about it. A veritable compendium of squelchy, bleepy, clonking loveliness which presses so many of my buttons I feel like a drum machine. Frak, for it is they, have created the finest slab of electro-goo I've heard for ages, and Digitalis are to be congratulated not only for releasing it, but pressing it on the most lurid bright green vinyl I've ever clocked eyes on. I'm not even listening to it at the moment, but I'm almost bouncing in my seat just thinking about it. So what does this bugger sound like then?

Fucking brilliant is what. It's practically everything I love about dance music all rolled up into one exceedingly toothsome cake of fun. Take some proper acid house, stir in a big lump of Detroit techno and a soupçon of new beat, add a dash of Blue Monday/Video 586 style New Order, whizz in a blender with some euro minimal synth stylings and some Krautrocky playfulness, and garnish liberally with Radiophonic sprinkles. And, this is one of the most perfectly cut, beautiful sounding records I've heard in a fucking long time. And it's very, very green indeed. Buy, beg, borrow or steal a copy if you've got a dancing bone in yr body, I guarantee you'll fucking love it. I'd write more but I need to listen to it again. And probably dance like a tit.

Go listen immediately

Globos

The new Terry Riley album is fucking shit. It's an absolute, unmitigated ballbag of a record, and the only reason for releasing it that I can see is that Terry Riley's name on the cover might make a few bob for the label (Tzadik). It's being cynically touted as a triumphant return to his 60s/70s methods, all modal riffs and looong looping delays, shifting patterns of phrase and phase, and while it's methodology is superficially similar, the result is not. Ladies and gentlemen, this is most definitely not the mixture of In C and Persian Surgery Dervishes that the hype seems to promise, but what feels like a pitiful attempt to cash in on the popularity of 60s/70s minimalism by going back to a compositional style TR abandoned over 20 years ago and whacking out almost two fucking hours of parping toss utterly lacking in conception, conviction or purpose, and is possibly the most pointless fucking piece of music I've endured in many years. It's certainly the most boring.

It ultimately falls flat on it's face in two main areas; sonically and musically. Musically this adds nothing to his body of work, coming across as a cynical, slapdash rehashing of old tropes, especially in the light of where other artists have taken these ideas in the previous forty-odd years, twisting the Riley methodology into unexpected new shapes and making it as much if not more a part of popular music practice as the avant-garde milieu which spawned it. Riley's influence is everywhere these days, has been for a long time now, and that's what I find so puzzling about this record; is it just an exercise in nostalgia, the sound of an old stoner having some fun, or an attempt to reclaim, to reassert ownership or provenance of a process for making music?

I can't imagine it's the latter. Terry Riley just isn't that sort of über tight-assed academic composer, he's way too much of a hippy and he's always been way too inclusive in his worldview and musical outlook to suddenly get all uppity about getting ripped off forty-odd years down the line. So, if not a fit of artistic control-freakery then what about the other angles? Nostalgia? Fuck I hope not, 'cos there's no worse reason to make a record than to relive past glories as that's either the subconscious passive-agressive equivalent of the above or wanking in the mirror. So, discounting those unedifying propositions, we're left with the old stoner hypothesis, which is fine in and of itself, I mean, that's how I (and an awful lot of other musicians) practice at home, but it doesn't necessarily lead to music anyone else would need or want to hear...

And now we get to the even bigger problem with Aleph. It sounds like crap. Not lo-fi, just crap. Sterile and digital and cold in all the wrong ways*. And it sounds this way for two reasons: 1. the horrible fucking preset synth sounds which sound exactly like a shit cheapo 80s rack module but apparently derive from a synth which cost 5 grand when new** which Mr Riley has tuned to a particularly inappropriate form of just intonation*** using some of the most unconvincing simulations of real instruments I've ever experienced (and this isn't from a modern perspective, the technology was in place and easily cheap enough to achieve infinitely superior results years before this was recorded), which in tandem with the circumstances of recording results in a thin, shrill, genuinely unpleasant acoustic completely at odds with the deep, detailed sonic environment music of this type deserves.

And what were those circumstances? Turns out this record was recorded as an mp3. A format so completely inappropriate to music so heavily dependent on tuning and harmonic relationships because in compressing the file from it's raw form the data that's lost cannot but be essential to the correct presentation of the music, every sliver of 1s and 0s sliced away thinning the frequency soup still further until all y're left with is this unsatisfying, unwholesome gruel. You can master and remaster all you like, and believe me they've tried, but you can't replace what was never there in the first place, and I don't want to listen to a sketch or a storyboard, I want the whole fucking thing.

The real shame? If this had been recorded using better instruments, on a medium more suited to the music, it would probably have been fucking brilliant. But it wasn't, and it isn't.

*I should point out here that I'm not the analogue fetishist that many think I am, what I insist on is the appropriateness of the gear to the sound that is sought. The only question that should be asked of a mix is does it sound right?

**Korg Triton Studio 88. Very powerful, very shit.

***Can't be arsed to go into the maths at the mo'. I finished writing several thousand hard-fought words on non-standard analysis last week and would like a couple of mathematically minimal weeks to decompress.

La Lucha Del Funky Brujos

Mekanïk Destruktïw Kommandöh, Köhntarkösz and Üdü Ẁüdü. Three albums which prove that my theory that the brilliance of any Magma LP is in direct proportion to the number of umlauts and whatnot in their given titles. But, towering citadels of idiot genius those LPs may be, sometimes you need funky, moogy Magma. Specifically, you need Attahk, the most foolish of the 70s albums, and within its Giger on a spliff-break cover art* you will find this beauty, probably the only piece of cyberdiscoprog about wizards battling a demon sung in an invented language**...



*Which, disappointingly, is the only 70s Magma album not to feature their distinctive logo, which shares its font with two of the other most 70s things ever, The Goodies and Spangles.

**Details here