Back catalogue: Post Rock/Experimental

Review: US art rockers The Mars Volta's latest project reveals an ambitious dual-disc journey, encompassing their sprawling range of experimentation. Early tracks like 'Fin' and 'Reina tormenta' establish a dense atmosphere, full of the band's signature unpredictability, with fluid transitions between moments of stark aggression and delicate, jazz-inflected interludes. The album's progression is marked by tracks such as 'Mictlan' and 'Nefilbata', where intricate rhythms are paired with surreal, often dissonant melodies, evoking the mysticism and chaos of their thematic inspirations. As the second disc kicks off, 'Celaje' and 'Vocifero' provide a cinematic depth, layering intricate percussion with droning, otherworldly synths, shifting the mood into darker territories before 'Mito de los trece cielos' bursts through with frenzied energy. The reprise of 'Cue the Sun' and the closing track, 'Lucro sucio', bring the journey to a close, suggesting a moment of reflection within the album's labyrinthine structure. While the album's tracklist is as labyrinthine as their sound, what stands out is the way The Mars Volta remain resolutely themselvesieffortlessly blending their psychedelic rock heritage with new, complex influences, creating something fresh, while never losing the raw intensity that made their earlier work so iconic. This album feels less like a return and more like a rediscovery of what makes them so vital.

Review: Pierre Bujeau is the man behind the Megabasse alias and he crafts temporary escape zones through music that offer a break from the everyday. Whether performing with French groups Omerta and Tanz Mein Herz or solo, Megabasse creates a unique, rough-edged psychedelia armed with a double-neck guitar, cheap lager and Fender amps. He produces chiming patterns that blur the room's sound, transporting you to another world but his music isn't about wellness or self-improvement, but a communal, DIY dreamspace. This new release, previously available only on limited editions, features two intricate tracks and one shorter piece that show his shift towards burnt-out, beautiful guitar solos.

Review: Beginning life in the late 70s as a Leeds based art collective, The Mekons have gone on to become one of the longest-running, most prolific and sonically diverse acts to be considered part of the first wave of British punk. Spanning numerous decades, projects and literal continents, the sprawling array of visionary contributors return with the succinctly titled Horror; a work written towards the end of 2022 that showcases their expansive yet solely unique approach, drawing on elements of dub, country, harsh noise, rock & roll, electronica, punk, music hall, polka and even waltz. Myriad vocalists lead differing sonic journeys such as the Jon Langford-led 'Mudcrawlers' telling the story of the Irish famine and subsequent refugees traversing to Wales, whereas Rico Bell leads the charge on the harrowing folk-horror climate change breakdown 'Fallen Leaves', with swelling violins painting an aural tapestry akin to Rolling Thunder era Dylan sitting on a dimly lit rolling green hill accompanied by The Pogues. Ranking somewhere between the collective's 23rd to 25th album (depending on which member of the fanbase or artists themselves you ask), Horror marks their first work for Fire Records.

Review: French-British singer-songwriter and performance artist Lucy Sissy Miller opens Pre Country with noises that don't feel remotely close to country - more Imogen Heap than Patsy Cline. But as the record finds its gear, reference are changed through a moody and mysterious veil of latter-day Patti Smith and the oeuvre of Laurie Anderson. A meditation on Americana which recognises its folk roots but isn't afraid to embrace the high tech of today, either. Pieced together using journal notes, poems, voice memos, found and collected, manipulated and obscured sounds, it's a reflective and quiet, tender kind of place to find yourself - a record that asks for patience and rewards you with increasing immersion. "It'a an album about memories and how we stitch up these moments, making them movie-like to make sense of these experiences," says Miller. We'll leave it at that.

Review: Los Angeles-based Monde UFO - a shadowy collective helmed by multi-instrumentalist and producer Ray Monde - has a well-earned reputation for being one of music's more hard-to-pigeonhole acts, with their two previous albums variously mixing and matching elements of improvisational jazz, dream pop, Latin rhythms, space rock and lo-fi experimentalism. They're on a similarly breezy, blurred-at-the-edges tip on third album Flamingo Tower, attractively sashaying between jazz-flecked, string-laden dream pop ('Samba 9'), richly percussive post-punk jazz ('119', with its subtle nods to Tony Allen and Ginger Baker's infamous drum battle in support of Fela Kuti), cinematic noir-jazz (the effects-laden excellence of 'Solitaire') and much more besides.

Review: Homaging mutuality in a robust creative dialogue, More Eaze and Claire Rousay add another flash of brilliance to a mesmerising string of allegorical LPs. Both born in San Antonio, Texas, Rousay and Eaze (Mari Maurice) riff (literally) on strummed country and noise rock echoes, reflecting an uptick in electronica artists sound-repainting the lonesome grasslands and desert great plains of the mid Southern United States. Yet on No Floor, there is an ardent sci-fi leitmotif too, producing a techno-realist vision reminiscent of a Texan Death Stranding and/or Simon Stalenhag painting. From 'kinda tropical' to 'limelight, actually' we hear shortgrass droughts, short-wave police radio chatter, and the bootup zaps of a beaten up pocket survivo-droid, as it scans the semidesert we alone must brave.