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PRICE:
$27.50
IN STOCK
ARTIST
TITLE
The Weightless Sea
FORMAT
LP

LABEL
CATALOG #
FTR 815LP FTR 815LP
GENRE
RELEASE DATE
10/17/2025

Twin Lakes, Feeding Tube, and Cardinal Fuzz Records present the long-awaited fourth LP by the NY/CT duo Spiral Wave Nomads, a joint release between the three labels. Imagine being swallowed whole by a phosphorescent jellyfish the size of a city bus, drifting half-conscious across some cosmic tide pool while a guitar gnaws at your bones and a drum kit levitates just out of reach. That's The Weightless Sea, the new LP from Spiral Wave Nomads, a record that doesn't give a damn about your earthly anchors, your comfort zones, or the cloying stench of polite indie rock playlists. Spiral Wave Nomads are Eric Hardiman (guitarist, psychic detonator, veteran of Albany's colossal noise-tribe Burnt Hills, bassman of the lit-punk jammers Sky Furrows, and one half of the spectral duo Century Plants) and Michael Kiefer (drummer, rhythm exorcist, tempo-smasher of the free-rock duo Rivener and survivor of Myty Konkeror and its glorious progeny, the ecstatic psych-trio More Klementines). Together they don't so much "play songs" as they drag sound through wormholes, melt it down to plasma, and spray it back into your synapses like an unholy baptism of feedback and thunder. The Weightless Sea is exactly what it says: an ocean without gravity, where riffs flicker like dying stars and percussion ricochets like rusted satellites gone feral. It's heavy without being sludge, it's free without being chaos, it's the ecstatic howl of two lifers chasing something bigger than language. It's a transmission from a parallel dimension where Hendrix never died, Can never stopped, and Sun Ra actually did get picked up by aliens and returned with a rhythm section made out of asteroids. Play it and you'll either ascend to another plane or drive straight into a glowing portal where the air shimmers with an alien heat, and the colors bleed into one another like an oil slick on a distant sun. It's a slow burn, a simmering groove that feels like a forgotten ritual being performed in the heart of a dead star. The sea is weightless. The waves don't end. The Nomads have no map, no compass, no tethers.