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viewing 1 To 13 of 13 items
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LP
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GODRECORDS 030
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$23.00
PREORDER
RELEASE DATE: 1/31/2025
"When a freckle pops up, that's when you know that the sun has gotten through. Don't let 'em tell you it's skin damage -- more like the sign of time well spent, as always, in the light. Freckle the band is like that. Freckle is, then, a Californian. Corey Madden, of Color Green, and Ty Segall. From the riff, there was a shared understanding about what they wanted. It made sense to shoot for writing things that weren't personal -- instead, taking ideas and vignettes, turning 'em into back stories and freaking out with the lyrics, making little movies. Once they had a good batch of songs, it wasn't long. They didn't push too hard, they didn't need to. As it came together, everything fell into place real natural-like. Freckle is the hive mind of Corey Madden and Ty Segall. This LP reminds listeners that when the clouds are out you can still get sunburned."
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GODRECORDS 027
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"What happens when you take a band operating within the imposing, steel-grey confines of Chicago and ship 'em out to the sunny beaches of southern California to make a record? You get Blinded By Oblivion! Axis: Sova have crystallized on every level with their latest, dropping a total classic in the process -- a perfectly conceived album of head-catching tunes in proliferation, produced to transmit polarities to our synapses with every song. It ain't Axis: Sova without a creeping sense of inalienable oppositions at work -- this time, the brutal truths lie beneath flags of conquest flying in the electric wind, the introspection extroverted to explore human condition, intention, and manipulation in the modern world. Blinded By Oblivion zeroes in with zero fucks on these Axis concerns, excited by sounds sourced from high water moments in the rock and roll eras: present, past and future. At times ferocious and slavering, at others, gleamingly diamond-cut, the clash of industrial steel vs. indelible nature is sonically palpable. You get it all, right out the gate: in the bright opening moments of 'People,' Blinded By Oblivion's first cut, an induction of dreamy guitar textures from all corners set up the immortal opening couplet, 'People will be the end of people / People will snuff the light.' From there, the accelerated, percussive thrust that begins 'Hardcore Maps' launches a sequence of quick-hitting singles, each demonstrating a melodic attunement previously only touched upon in the Axis-verse. While earlier releases Motor Earth and Early Surf dwelt in subterranean corridors mottled with lo-fi and psychedout sonics, 2018's Shampoo You sharpened their song-craft and fidelity, pushing vocal arrangements forward. Blinded By Oblivion accelerates this conception to new heights, thanks in part to the bold, hi-fi production courtesy of Ty Segall, who helped bring the band's latest vision to life at his Harmonizer Studios. That vision became hyper-focused with the sweet addition of (human) drummer Josh Johannpeter to the Axis fold. Combined with new drum machines, the rhythms found on Blinded By Oblivion are split in sensual arrangement between organic and synthetic beats on every song. This stereo divergence opens space for Jeremy Freeze's buoyantly grounded bass and Brett Sova's guitar adventures to tap the source with unprecedented contrast and brevity, while providing bedrock for their refreshingly assured vocals to gloriously harmonize. All the elements are there: compassion for our collective fallibility, rebuke on the tip of the tongue, all rolled tight with hook-laden, high-energy construction..."
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CD
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GODRECORD 029CD
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"Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us -- but, as intoned on the album opener 'Sigalert,' 'back again like I never was.' Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there's hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer ? 'witness marks' aren't something out of a forensic analysis -- they're actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there's big questions and more on the board; primarily if we're at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others -- sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slate-grey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, 'But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it's only temporary and it's time to go.' Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!'
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GODRECORD 029LP
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LP version."Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us -- but, as intoned on the album opener 'Sigalert,' 'back again like I never was.' Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there's hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer ? 'witness marks' aren't something out of a forensic analysis -- they're actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there's big questions and more on the board; primarily if we're at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others -- sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slate-grey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, 'But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it's only temporary and it's time to go.' Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!'
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GODRECORDS 026
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"That ol' spirit and image of SF has meant a lot of things loved and lost over the past couple centuries -- but the most recent golden age is still cooling in the hearts and minds of many nu music enthusiasts, god bless 'em! In truth, it's already hardened into fact and myth -- or in the case of this fantabulous GOD? release, into retrospective compilation, with the far-flung fascinations of the Folding Cassettes label repping the time and place for our dew-eyed purposes. Folding Cassettes -- yup, a cassette label -- was pretty much done and sorted when the new era of peak cassette improbably broke wide in the early twenty-teens. Back in 2001, when founded by Mike Donovan, it was more representative of the exclusive confines of the urban underground, well represented as always around the Bay area. Mike had been jitterbugging through the scene for several years, playing with this group and that, starting a label and releasing some actual LPs and CDs (to no avail) -- and with notoriety fronting Sic Alps still several years hence, he had the time and energy to reach out and tap the shoulder of his fave local talents, not to mention legends, resulting in a sequence of dozens of delightfully EFFED SF-ite releases on Folding Cassettes . . . The various musics curated included everything from lo-fi to free-form to metal (so far as rock was concerned), with further genre distinctions including abstract electronics, laptop noise, contempo-jazz-fusion, country-folk and even comedy, all of it delivered with a highly demanding, archly punk sensibility. The players? Hailing from names you might recognize today -- members of OCS (multiple ones!), Gang Gang Dance, Child Abuse, Krallice, Lightning Bolt and Comets on Fire, all of them getting down with the freedom and some truly head-cleaning sounds. Plus, Kit Clayton (as himself)! Mikey Wild! A slice of (the now-defunct style of (now impossible)) anonymous crank call comedy! And even a little number from curator Mike D. himself! All burned into vinyl for the first time literally EVER . . . The liner notes there unpack whats, whos and wheres for us, bringing other aspects of The Way It Was in those DIY days back into visceral life in all their manually-typewritten glory. No details skimped! Personal memoir touched upon! And of course, a discographical list of all 44 Folding Cassettes releases, including the unreleased Tits2 single (FC CEO, what are the odds of finally getting that one out there?!). Folding Cassettes Greatest Hits is a wild night on the old town and an earful that's awful too..."
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GODRECORDS 009
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2014 release. "With the release of Wand's Ganglion Reef, GOD? continues to highlight the expansive sounds of new music currently altering minds from east of west to west of east. Recently, Jack Name, David Novick and White Fence were called upon for long players to travel into the hear t of the flaming orb of un-/non/(ultimate)-realities (they're out there)...and now, from GOD?'s hand-lips to your head-hand, Wand! The fluctuating gravity of their sound achieves total Wand-hood by jamming senses, sounds and vibes through the circuits -- and like magic: plays of light and dark (and heavy!) for today's (and tomorrow's) mind-ears. From beneath the glassine surface dost emerge: Ganglion Reef."
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7"
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GODRECORDS 008
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"Equal parts shamble-dance and noise-pop, Running drive relentlessly while shouting their HI-larious lyrics (we think) with vigor from the bottom of a well of cheap 'verb. With serriform guitar racing with the vocs for most-fucked sounding and the bass and drums driving savagely forward -- like 'Totally Fired,' for example -- find us a song with singing that better unites listener peril with lively dancefloor antics."
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7"
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GODRECORDS 007
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"GOD? is the fire and ice this summer. With a storm of riffage played with precision and fury, Zath's 'Black Goat Razor' will ride like a dark horse of the apocalypse to the top of your singles play list throughout the hot months, and whatever remains of time beyond."
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GODRECORDS 005
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"Jack Name is a rare entity and a genius story/songsmith and I am envious as hell that GOD? Records is putting this out and not Castleface. Whiffs of young Brian Eno, Gary Numan, Chrome, ELO, Bruce Haack, even Richard O'Brien (a la 'Rocky Horror') and Stefan Wul stain the sleeves of this story, but it's still wholly original and cooked at home so it's as honest as it is good for you. The sounds are a dense and ever-shifting beast -- just an absolutely put-you-on-the-floor headphone record. The narrative holds as much significance as the sound; hopefully there will be a lyric sheet so teenagers ripe for a push in the right direction can follow along, pink-eyed , with their index fingers. Light Show lifts off over an alien plane -- immediate, heavily skimming the surface of the landscape where the story unfurls. A conversation, maybe a dream . . . it's a bit cloudy, but it's just the start and it's wonderful. So you prepare to soak up the whole story and carry it with you from now on. Looking down you get a stream of conscious view into the heads of the opposing factions constantly at war in this mirror dimension to our own. The wooly bullies are applying leaden pressure on the shadows which they resent for their imagination and lust for art. They use the whip of televised terror and the cell of prescriptions to flatten your creative energies. The shadows, in turn, need time, freedom and space to flourish away from the square oppressors."
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GODRECORDS 004
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"God? Records re-presents the debut of David Novick. His self-titled album is officially a reissue, though the original was pressed in a short edition, for only one hundred souls. David and his bandmates in San Francisco Water Cooler put it out as the third release on their Sun Sneeze Records, and the copies were sold or handed out at shows. Braid twisted with folk and experimental and psychedelic artifacts that come on with a distinct aroma. If you've enjoyed hanging around the San Francisco Water Cooler, this here is a bit more lo-key than those songs. Busting out of the gate fleetly, like Lindsey Buckingham of the no-budget (and no-Nicks!) set, David Novick flashes through seven ambitiously built songs recorded in his Santa Cruz bedroom a few years ago, using Tascam four-track and eight-track cassette machines."
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7"
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GODRECORDS 003
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"Scraper's a band throwing curves off a skate-punk kind of mound. Just some kids hanging out on the scene who formed a band out of nowhere. Of the 101 flavors currently coursing through the undead corpse of punk, these guys spray a gritty combination of grind 'n' groove that represents musical life at its most primal level. Then when you're sure they just started playing instruments the day before they recorded this, the overtones hit you -- Scraper's touched with Flipper and Urinals art-ghetto flair! You might even call it 'minimalist,' and the lyrics whip a satirical, surrealist-psychedelic angle on the inevitable social/romantic blues of the songs. Coming from the filth with no kind of irony or apology, this sound, is a way of life -- and somehow, it sounds like fun! This six-song EP is Scraper's first vinyl release."
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GODRECORDS 002
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"Restoring a lost gem to the crown of White Fence, God? is bringing the first, self-titled, White Fence album back to the vanguard. White Fence originally came out on San Francisco's Make a Mess label; the CD is currently in print on Woodsist. But vinyl, you know? VINYL! A foolproof and ever-morphing approach to writing songs by bringing the freshness of lysergic '60s visions into the present day. As if that's all there was, which if you think about it... that's all there needs to be really. Tunes for us to sing, fun thoughts for us to have. So the tunes are there and they do everything great, but they warp and ripple as if something had gone awry with the tape machine."
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GODRECORDS 001
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"A man of indeterminate age stands behind a stack of drums and keyboards, all arrayed within his reach. A guitar hangs down from his neck, occasionally played his hands aren't split between the keys, tapping out riffs on synth. His feet work a couple of pedals beating out time on snare and floor tom. A drumstick is deployed on the guitar and the keys only. Makes sense. Like a schizoid game of Pong, the whole thing is about exploiting the tempo, and the sounds - these ano/digital shards, iced with minimal/savant lyric shreds and a crazed slavery to the groove(s), could be hailing from Munich in '77 or Cleveland, SF, LA, NYC or London in the late 70s. It could be the soundtrack to Peter Ivers's 'New Wave Theatre' or some weird dark corners of the early 80s once the records began to make their way into the world and changing minds. But fuck, it could be today too! Wrong on all accounts. This is some vintage one-man robot punk shit, but it all trails back into the early aughts, when punk kids were unearthing old synths and working them into the noise. Some kids went into full-on dance punk. Remember? Or would you rather not? It's this robot-punk stuff that still sounds fresh, razorsharp and ready to go, whether it's going forward into the past or back to the future! These tracks are the sound of Trin Tran - and other than the side of a split done with the Coachwhips back in 2000 -- ! -- this is all there is."
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