I’ve visited Brooklyn many times, but I can’t quite conceive of what it’s like to live there. Like actually wake up, smoke a cigarette on the fire escape, and head down into the garbage covered streets to make the money required to breathe. I imagine mustached dudes lingering out there on the sidewalk or in the cafe with laptops tucked under their arms, ready to bust out a DJ set or a session of minimal techno at a moment’s notice. I imagine pigeons. I imagine that most people you meet have some kind of project. Maybe it’s kinda cool that way. Maybe kinda exasperating.

Somewhere in Brooklyn, human beings are making rock music. Groups of more than two people gather together with amps, guitars, and drums, and play them at loud volumes. It’s fun. Elderly neighbors hear these sounds blaring from a barred basement window and think something along the lines of “Kids will be kids” as their feet tap. At the show, a crowd shows up, and they are prepared to actually move their bodies. They are eager to lose control. Later, when they find the control again, they walk down the garbage covered streets back to their fire escapes and smoke their final cigarettes of the evening. I can get behind this lifestyle.

Listen to Advaeta’s “Angelfish,” our first taste of their forthcoming LP Death and the Internet (due April 28 on Fire Talk), and imagine three women shredding a few feet in front of your face as your hair and arms flail in time. Sara Fantry and Amanda Salane (aka Reversus) pour sheets of scuzz from their guitars, laying thick-toned leads over distorted chord progressions that churn in a shoegaze haze through the back of the mix. Lani Combier-Kapel’s ride cymbal taps and snare rolls surge as wordless harmonies air against cascading lead vocal lines. Guitar solos sound out over delay trails. Somewhere in Brooklyn, heads bang.

• Advaeta:
• Fire Talk:

Day Ravies

Under The Lamp EP

This one is for all y’all Aussie -gaze wranglers out there. Day Ravies is here to pull you outta bed and put’cha right Under The Lamp. Feel their the sun-seared guitar fry. Float those lofty lyrics soft to the ear-drum touch. Take a walk with these bass lines that won’t quit until the band does. Generally just cast your peepers upon the reflection of blue drawn across the office wall. But keep from drooling, because that’s when the boss will start trying to mooch all your Day Ravies digital tracks, and you’re like “Get your own or give me a raise,” while flicking your Bic at the end of an unlit cigarette, staring them straight in the pupils, kicking your feet up, ripping a drag of tobacco and the headphones out your computer, liberating your coworkers through the power of Day Ravies.

Grip your copy of Under The Lamp EP by Day Ravies on cassette via Strange Pursuits before the reel runs out:

• Day Ravies:
• Strange Pursuits:

Paul Hares

“loop flaw”

After melting coins with magma and pressure-cooker steam, costuming an ordinary crow to look like Brandon Lee, and badgering a traffic cop for blatently littering on the sidewalk, you begin to wander around without much else to do. Your afternoon seems to have peaked, as it were.

But suddenly (GAST!), Paul Hares grabs you by the hand and leads you down the splashy vestibule of a wormhole he calls “loop flaw”. All the buttons on his arm calculator are bent, so the numbers don’t add up when he tries to time the color splays, but his VHS contact lenses are centered on the sun, cracking light with sound and wobble, so everything balances out in the end. Yeah, his palms were damp, so you’ve long since stopped being hand-held by the man, yet his fingertips still control the experience entirely.

Looks like Paul has a tape coming out on (((Cave Recordings))) sometime in the near future, so pucker up buttercup, and be on the lookout for his forthcoming cassette on Dirty Tapes, too.

• Paul Hares:



Whoa, I’ve been putting “champagne” by QUALIATIK on repeat for about an hour now, and can’t get this ex- outta my head. We haven’t spoken for years. Not like I’m suddenly interested, but for some reason I just now randomly thought to axe a pal on Gchat about being friends with ex-s and he’s like “It’s a good way to make friends,” so…

This doesn’t necessarily contextualize “champagne” – as the lyrics are listed underneath the SoundCloud – but QUALIATIK has a real lean pop quality to her song structure, and it feels like I could emoji whatever to it. But I suppose the overall vibe of the track is freeing. Like becoming spiritless through spirituality. Or just becoming emotional while drinking, or love drunk on someone else, but what about that hangover? Keep a bottle close, because QUALIATIK poppin’ rn like “champagne,” as she say:



“The Black Death (excerpt)”

When Norwegian avant-garde polymath Lars Pedersen released The Black Death under the When moniker in 1992, some of his fellow forward-thinking countrymen were donning spiked gauntlets and smearing their faces with corpse paint. Though the sounds shaped by the likes of Mayhem, Darkthrone, and Emperor into what we know as Norwegian black metal — buzzing tremolo picked guitar lines, howled vocals, blastbeats — shared little in common with Pedersen’s expanses of musique concrète at face value, their shared themes of pestilence and despair united these artists into a vanguard of pitch-black experimentation.

Pedersen derived inspiration for The Black Death from legendary Norwegian artist Theodor Kittelsen’s series of drawings entitled Svartedauen, which depicted the catastrophic spread of the bubonic plague through Norway in the 14th century. Removed from those events by the better part of a millennium, Kittelsen’s drawings plant the figures of old hags and demonic beasts into stark scenes of natural disorder, presenting a vision of human suffering stripped down to a husk of disease and absence. Pedersen populates his continuous 38 minute piece with the auditory equivalents of these ghastly entities, which pop into view in the form of spectral field recordings, fragments of acoustic folk, or peals of noise for a few moments of terror each.

Remastered to a remarkable degree of detail, Ideologic Organ’s vinyl edition of The Black Death introduces this seminal work to new generations who honed their tastes for the dark and the obscure by listening to musicians that Pedersen directly inspired — including IO label head and Sunn O)))/Khanate/KTL member Stephen O’Malley, iconoclastic Ulver frontman Kristoffer Rygg, and Norwegian noise icon Lasse Marhaug, all of whom have contributed in some form to this reissue. As the ouroboric circle of influence continues to turn, one can only imagine what spectacular horrors Pedersen might breed in the minds of the artists who discover his work today.

• When:
• Ideologic Organ:


CHOCOLATE GRINDER is our audio/visual section, with an emphasis on the lesser heard and lesser known. We aim to dig deep, but we'll post any song or video we find interesting, big or small.