Back catalogue: All genres

Review: 'Behind The Green Door' understands the power of lunging rhythms. A one-man-band by some estimations - the 'group' has just a single permanent member, Danny "Lee Blackwell" Rajan Billingsley, with the founder, drummer James Traeger, only involved intermittently. And this isn't the only norm defied. Psychedelic garage rock for some, to us it's a kind of hypnotic, swampy, choral thing with shades of rhythm and blues and soul. With plenty of encouragement to chant. In 2023, Night Beats dropped a sixth studio album, Rajan, and then promptly ran back into the same ether that's been obscuring them from many views since 2009. Still, if you caught a glimpse then, or rather an earshot, and took the brave decision to follow, here's where we've wound up - and it sounds awesome.

Review: A second joining of forces from two celebrated Chicago acts, blending deep, organic rhythms with a minimalistic electronic pulse. With the novel but logical addition of Jason Stein on bass clarinet, the collaboration stretches even further, pulling together the spiritual fluidity of Natural Information Society and the electronic minimalism of Bitchin Bajas. The first single, 'Clock no Clock,' is a deep dive into hypnotic rhythms, with guimbri grooves intertwining seamlessly with electronic bursts, flutes and organs. The other three tracks are equally compelling, the music unfolding like a living organism, constantly shifting but always grounded. Expansive, intricately woven sonic delights.

Review: Four years, a lot of gigs, and a change of lineup are all that have stood between Vyvyd and The Uncanny Extravaganza. New Candys triumphant return after the best part of a half decade is exactly that, unleashing some of the most powerful tracks in their oeuvre after no less than two years spent writing, recording and producing them. Which is ironic, given the raw, unfettered distortion that makes much of what's here so compelling and utterly devastating. It would sound off-the-cuff, it it weren't so complex. The Uncanny Extravaganza is one of those records that makes you genuinely excited about the prospect of seeing a band live again. It's loud - even if you've got the volume down - and its disharmonious, it's soaring and distant yet immediate and up front. It's psyche-infused garage rock with a dusting of raucous shoegaze (if that's possibly a thing), at times nodding to the likes of Ringo Deathstar or Death In Vegas, in other moments Spiritualised. Or maybe that's just us.