Category Archives: Pink Priest

Dreams of the Witch House

Parallel to the crowded streets runs a secret network of back alleys, cul-de-sacs and labyrinthine corridors  that would make you believe, upon stepping on them, but a few yards from the worldly bustle, that you have suddenly been transported to a different city altogether. Arthur Machen and H.P. Lovecraft were masters of the ghost drift through which such spider-webs of empty omen can be discovered. Watch Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie roam the streets of Venice at night, haunted by the blur of a red mac, follow Lt. Kinderman down the staircase where Father Karras met his ghastly end, and you will understand what I am telling you.

These lonely places are where dark pacts are signed, where men whose faces are but a smudge of charcoal rendezvous for a few seconds to exchange envelopes sealed in wax and disappear in the shadows, where the prey runs from his hunter, mad with terror. These places have their own irresistible symphony, the echo of steps on distant stones, a window creaks opened by an invisible force and a trembling light spills out, pulsating feebly with a drone that reeks of things that are forbidden. It is the subtle change in the texture of the air which in a moment of foreboding makes the idle walker quicken his pace away, towards that which is garish and loud and hides no secrets.

Mater Suspiria Vision are no idle walkers, but wilful adepts of the wicked lore piling in the corners where the halls of this maze meet, they return and inside the shapeless bulk of their hood feline eyes blink with glee, sheets of velvet slide open and you are blinded by the liquid reflection of silver artefacts, torrents of ink tattooing the scroll pages of books that survived fire and purification, the golden Tiberius clinks for a moment shining like a grail of evil, you who stand in the boundary between that which is known and that which can be known but shouldn’t, surrender.

Mike Oldfield- Foreign Affair ((Mater Suspiria Vision Mindfuck Remix))

Now we hope someone does a ghost drone cover of Moonlight Shadow.

We met in the derelict playground buttressed by three cancerous towers, with cheap wine, sandwiches and a cassette player.

The light of the sun was such that the world stood perfectly defined, masses of ochre, rust, dying grass and sand, abandoned toys standing like esoteric totems in the background of a faded polaroid. We talked and we pushed the creaking wheel, we swung in the precarious swings and as the world slid up and down, a black bird crossed the blue sky in a straight line of technical precision. Music of our youth glared from the cassette and we talked as the sun continued its never-ending procession above, oblivious to the strange cycle of the colossal shadows of the towers surrounding us, chattering and smoking and nodding and remembering, as the afternoon began.

How can the sun shine in a way such that three shadows converge in a point which is the geometric centre of the triangle that they define?

But it happened, and so we found ourselves in the intersection of  these pillars of darkness, and our conversation died away as the sounds from the cassette player decomposed into a crackling pool of static from which an eerie melody surfaced, like a naked dryad emerging from a pool of water hidden deep in the forests. Emerald eyes, emerald eyes shining in the vague and pale silhouettes of children surrounding us in a circle, devoid of faces yet staring intensely like only children and the mad can, at us who had trespassed on their property,

It lasted for but a few moments, after which the three shadows parted ways and suddenly we were alone again, reality recovered its definition. Then we knew that bad things had happened in that playground.

We left in silence, and never again mentioned what had happened that day.

Pink Priest- Vultures Circling Weird Carcasses

Vultures Circling Weird Carcasses is included in ‘Honeysuckle’, Pink Priest’s new LP on LA Station Radar. The awesome artwork is by James Hines.

As a bonus, here you have the awesome mixtape that Pink Priest have put together for us. Enjoy!

Pink Priest XXJFG Mixtape


1 jim jones intro
2 beaters – fishage
3 da brat – give it 2 you (dj screw remix)
4 first nation – braided metal
5 pelt – will you pray for me
6 neil diamond – girl you’ll be a woman soon
7 salem – imasheet
8 fennesz – perfume for winter
9 popul vuh – devotion II
10 pan.american – is a problem to occupy generations
11 twista featuring lil boosie – fire
12 faust -untitled
13 the cure – a strange day
14 francois hardy – il est des choses (slowed down/fucked up by me)

And if you are not losing your shit in 13 Monsters on Saturday, and you are in London, you should go to Mucky Pup to celebrate the launch of Teeth of the Sea’s Hypnoticon 12′‘. It shall be blinding. We have a sizzling mixtape that they have put together for us coming up next week. Exalt!

Best of 2009 #1: All the kids are revolting

So this is how we begin the end. In spite of the doom and gloom spewed by the mouthpieces of the not-so-bloated anymore mass music industry, and her government pawns, we have witnessed, in 09, an absolute explosion of glorious stuff that have kept us shaking, then in our toes and eventually levitating in the power field of ecstasy and good vibes. We also found A&Rs from a major corporation we won’t name looking for food in the rubbish containers outside our house. We always knew they were goulish, but this!

Anyway, maybe the barriers to producing and distributing content online have fallen, and God knows that in spite of becoming a social wasteland for the 2.0 generation, Myspace is still a treasure trove of unsigned acts many of which will illuminate the days to come. But we are talking about the physical stuff too, black shiny discs of perchance anachronistic physically embedded content lining the shelves of the lounge at the centre of the spinning web which is our black crystal palace. In the following posts we will be telling you about these things.

As it has become traditional, and because we don’t like to repeat ourselves, these posts will bristle with music that either we didn’t post the first time around, stuff we just got access to, or stuff that shall be coming out next year and has us excited like the forward looking motherfuckers with a tiny speck of madness in their bloodshot eyes we actually are.

Love and napalm, let’s kick this punk out in strictly alphabetic order, synthesising minimalistically the best albums and things from that cradle of drone, fuzz and wail which is the ‘modern rock and roll scene’.


Blank Dogs– Under and Under: A cadre of No Wave terrorists slide past the vigilant gaze of Cerberus to steal torch music from the cold embrace of Death herself.

Cold Cave– Love Comes Close: The pale ghost of Ian Curtis smokes a cigarette in the back alleys behind the Hacienda wearing a garish dress and smudged make up.

Divorce – Pipe Down – A public service announcement in the library of Punk.

Eats Skull– Sick to Death- We will play top trumps in the smokey back of the bar, you bring your deck of forgotten country stars and I shall bring my deck of renowned American cannibals.

Foot Village– Anti-Magic- My daunting drumming halo wakes the underground dragon from its slumber so that it can rise and impale the love denialists with its mighty horn.

Ganglians– S/T- If Syd Barret had been born in Sacramento, the Piper at the Gates of Dawn would have sounded like this.

A Grave With No Name – Sofia – The disembodied spirit of Grunge possesses the Beach Boy’s lost reverb pedal.

HEALTH – Get Color- Splice the history of hardcore with stills from Lucifer Rising, take some drugs and fast forward so you can stare into the mad face of God

JD Twitch– 60 Minutes of Fear- A manifesto which is a love letter written in the concrete grounds of the parking lot which now stands where our culture was born.

Meth Teeth-Everything Went Wrong- There is a message written in the discarded license plates that pile up at the bottom of the Columbia river. It reads: ‘boogie is full of win’.

Lightning Bolt– Earthly Delights- Hyeronimus Bosch was a Hawkwind fan.

Little Claw– Human Taste- Spectral songs from deep in the well where I hurled my daughter in a moment of madness.

Mi Ami– Watersports- Mutant flowers stretch twisted towards the sun in the jungles that survived Agent Orange. There be Dub panthers here too.

Pens – Hey Friend What You Doing- Punk music to hold up the candy store

Railcars– Cathedral with no Eyes- Cenobites in the Warehouse.

Thee Oh Sees– Help- That gaunt crook John Dwyer is the master priest of a religion with temples spread across the garages of the land.

Times new Viking– Dig Yourself- And you will know them by the trail of broken hearts, and smouldering amps.

Vibes– Psychic 7”- The faces whose eyes belong to the hills have mouths that shriek and necks connected to torsos, arms and hands that slap the wah wah with abandon, because doom funk is such a blast.

Wavves – Summer Goth – Lightning rod for the distortion backlash crafts beautiful pop tunes before burying them in the garden of feedback hoping they’ll grow.


We warned you, and it happened- 2009 has been the year of Dude Culture: Upset the Rhythm’s Yes Way and the string of Sex is Disgusting London/Brighton celebrations  are examples & symptoms of an effervescent DIY UK  scene which has become the locus of mega-rapid forms of evolution with viciously exciting outcomes: Mazes, Cold Pumas, Male Bonding, Human Hair, Graffiti Island, Thee Fair Ohs, The Shitty Limits, Pens or Lovvers are some examples. We look forward to see what happens in 2010, which should be the year of Teen Sheikhs (scratch that, we just heard they are splitting up after their show this Sunday) and Peepholes amongst others.

In the meantime, we leave you with excellent Graffiti Island as featured in the G.G. Allin tribute 7” that was released earlier in the year. Here we have another new era barnyard stomper drenched in echo and nonchalant menace, cool stuff.

Graffiti Island- Drink, Fuck and Fight


Bathetic and LA Station Radar have kept the spiral of the eerie drone and haunted folk wheel spinning most mesmerisingly. Derelict landscapes of ambient beauty fractured by shards of noise, sing-along rhymes whispered in your ear by an invisible presence. Cough Cool, Jeans Wilder, Ela Orleans and The Dawns are but some examples of this craft.

We are particularly amazed by Pink Priest, who slip effortlessly between deconstructed drone, and industrial pounding and tearing. Some of the former in ‘Those Paws’, which could have soundtracked Valerie’s first menstruation and subsequent hallucinations, if she had been born in the post-apocalyptic landscapes that Cormac McCarthy described in The Road.

Pink Priest- Those Paws


Kill Shaman have been behind some of the coolest releases of the year, including Bad Dudes hyper-accelerated math punk and Pink Noise’s voodoo ruminations. Theirs is also the fortress of badness from which mystery grungegaze Angelino heroes Bipolar Bear organise their forays. They have released a couple of albums this year, including the pounding ‘Harlem Pripyat’ in Mexican Summer, as well as several 7” you’d be well advised to grab.

Graves is included in their forthcoming album, and it demonstrates why they make us drool every time: relentless crashing rhythms for a Terminator made of wood to rip the spine off the back of Sarah Connor, star-destroying zenta guitar rays and that oomph vibe, that oomph vibe which fills your aural space like psychedelic ooze collected from those magick places where the Red Crayola, the Seeds, Electric Prunes or Silver Apples first jammed the skulls of the clued upon populace of the Sixties underworld. Radness.

Bipolar Bear- Graves

We have another bunch of posts coming, which will cover other shadowy areas where we like to dwell. We will be dropping them during the next few days. Get ready.

I live in the Tower of Flints, I am the Death-Owl


You know of that talented gentleman George Quartz, well he’s got together with Personal Victories to deliver a cracking piece of tribal sturm and drang the likes of which we hadn’t heard since Excepter turned the stompbox on, acid concoction of industrial ghost dance poison injected into our hearts with a rusty seven inch long syringe straight off Herman Von Klempf leather pouch of kinky surgical devices.

Picture Indian Jewellery covering World Domination Enterprise’s Jah Jah Dub using Event Horizon’s Experimental Gravity Drive as a stage from which to project the blood red eclipse live and direct, bats wielding sharp knives in their curved claws fly from every bell fry. They are out to get you, fight back.

Personal Victories with George Quartz- Human Metal


Nude Beach deliver Satanic Power Balladry of the first order, an unholy melange straight off the witches cauldron above which the most intoxicating fumes dance their ghostly dance. Beautifully doomed shoegaze ball of shadows which advances at the slow motion speed of, say, Salem, epic guitar wailing which is the soundtrack for the collapse of the rotten core of nightmare city, shockwave halo expanding to engulf us with tendrils of inky smoke for a short and intense session of spiritual tentacle rape.

Who says romance is dead?

Nude Beach- Nude Beach

This is included in the forthcoming Slut Club cassette in Bathetic.


Pink Priest continue operating in the sort of strange space from which the sounds we find irresistible usually emanate. They have a trove of releases in cool labels all over- LA Station Radar, which you already know about from last week’s post, Mirror Universe and Digitalis. Endless Luv, which you have the pleasure to enjoy today, is included in a tape/CD-R that Family Time are putting out.

How cool, it sounds like an all too brief grainy excerpt from esoteric footage of Chris and Cosey getting down over a forsaken Chromatics loop, all blur and echo like a noir flashback from those spectral Eighties that someone should bring back for good.

Pink Priest- Endless Luv


And if until now we have been malevolently circling our victim in the midst of the dark, swapping the silver dagger of vicious edge from one black leather gloved hand to the other, here is where the ghastly finale unfolds, red spray outcome of the most artistic manoeuvres and twists of the wrist. It is Spectral Empire again, this time remixing the always excellent The Detachments in an ominous bruiser to end them all. It will be included in their forthcoming single ‘Circles’, to be released by constant purveyors of nocturnal goodness This is Not an Exit.

This is the permanent drone  inside the head of the hooded dude with blood-shot eyes and yellow spiky teeth standing by the primeval altar as the unholiest of masses begins. This is the darken symphony to which the barn owl raises it wing like a totem of death. This is the macabre melody that soundtracks our escapades through the back alleys at night. Watch your back, we are coming to for you.

The Detachments- Circles (Spectral Empire Remix)

Here is the video for the original, enjoy!!


Sister Electra’s ballad

It is the fate of some stars, when they die, to reincarnate here in this planet, or perhaps elsewhere, it’s not for us to say. A child of features faded like a watercolour blur was born the day Electra, brightest of the Seven Sisters, collapsed into itself in the absolute silence of the constellation of Taurus, breaking the heart of a million astronomers. She was predestined to shine upon this world but she didn’t want to, plagued by vivid dreams of eternal and peaceful stasis in a void compared to which the womb is but hellish cacophony. She hid in closets at night and dig holes in the ground, she held her breath underwater trying to capture, if only for a moment, that Nirvana which is to spin numb drawing a perfect pattern in the tapestry of the universe. All to no avail, frustration, rage and pain constant exits in the path to elusive balance. She didn’t know who she was deep inside and for that I don’t know if I should feel thankful, or full of pity. Either way, she passed by me in her erratic orbit across this chaotic world, these are the songs she left with me before disappearing into the distance.


It is music that crawls, rumbling blues basslines and drums bashed by Jaki Liebezeit’s brutalised lil’ brother, it is music that soars too, guitars shriek like buzzards scared off the carrion by a powerful lion, then wah wah trotting funky like the hind quarters of a manky Hyaena that knows something you don’t, gnarly shamanic lullabies hovering over the lo-fi distortion field like poisonous butterflies. It is environmental science seen from the point of view of the foot soldiers, it’s a fucking mess, we love it.

Vibes- Prisms of Fame

Taken from the Vibes 7” out in Not Not Fun, go to Gorilla vs Bear for another tune.


A millenial spider dwells in the cold interstices between the stars spinning a glimmering thread of liquid silver which ties the universe together, in Wolf Cub or Witch Hunt Pink Priest summon it from the cold nooks and crannies where it hides when the sun comes out, so it can envelop us in a beautiful shroud while we sleep, puncture our throat with jaws of pure black, and inject us with the sweetest poison.

Pink Priest- Wolf Cub or Witch Hunt


Married in Berdichev is the music of closing the door of a penumbrous alcobe most carefully, sitting in the unmade bed, tracing the lines in the unkempt sheets while staring at the intersection of two ochre walls where the shadows become the onset of Goya’s blurriest nightmare, a congerie of  shapes melding into each other acquiring solidity and volume, the cold dead and bloated body of a sultan of the revenants mouth agape and blind eyes deep set in the caves of its cranium steps outside of the portal you just created and spills upon the room to tell you the secrets from beyond and take you away because it’s against the rules to walk with the breathing when you know all of that. You squash it like an annoying bug and watch it retreat into the shadows with a wry smile, your magick is stronger.

Married in Berdichev- Feet in the Water


When you reach a certain depth under water, it is hard to tell where is up and where is down, if you aren’t careful and watch for the spirals of iridescent bubbles escalating into the blue you might find yourself diving into the abyss when you search for the surface. A Gal does precisely that, confident and brave, following a treasure map scribbled down by Kim Gordon many years ago, which identifies the position of a metal box lying lonely in the rocky surface, open its latch to find a sun shining inside it, a lovely hum pervades the absolute silence of the bottom of the sea, a vortex of radiance swirls to the beautiful melody of that guitar.

A Gal- Diver

This post goes with a big thanks to Bathetic Records, who have sent us a big box of goodness, cassette tapes, cassette tapes.

I have meant to tell you about this for quite a while, you might remember how we mentioned over Christmas that our most admired beat berserkers Foot Village were making some sound trinkets available for remixing by whoever thought he/she/it had what it takes, well, the outcomes are available here for you to check out & be blown away. There’s much to love, Anavan, IE or Death:Sentence Panda! to mention but a couple. We are going to have some cool stuff coming up in regards to Foot Village, and Upset the Rhythm too, very soon. So keep your ears peeled kids, good shit spreads.


And just so you can begin your week in a most psyched way, here you have an astonishing collection put together for us by that dark master of the synthetic drone, Gavin Russom. Watch him stepping for a moment from the dark belly of the machine to present us with a lovely collection of spiritual utterances, reverberating spells  & radiant esoterica. Enjoy!

Gavin Russom- 20JFG mix


1.   Shaker Traditional Hymn-I Will Fight and Never Slack
2.   Trio Bulgarka-Slunste Zaide (At Sunset) –
3.   Haitian Ceremonial Music-Rhythme Rassemblement
4.  West Indies Spiritual Baptist Traditional Song
5.   Meredith Monk – Selection From Vessel: an Opera Epic
6.   Karcharpaya Kantu – Andean Ritual Music
7.   Guajira Ven – No1 De No1
8.   PCP – Jane and Jeff Hudson
9.   His Name is Alive-Hope
10. Kate Bush-How to be Invisible
11. Abdourahman Surizehi-Allahu –
12. The Mahavishnu Orchestra-You Know, You Know