A new year (March, in some cultures), a new skin. MJB has been quietly shedding its old one. If you’ve been following the site, you might have noticed “metal” morphed into “media”, like a subtle signal of things to come. New people, a new look, fresh ideas.
A wolf may change its fur.
Our hearts remain firmly anchored in the metal chest, but our eyes are open. Each month, Under the Release Radar will do just that: dig through the junkbox for the albums that may have slipped past you. Music across all genres, research that tells a story, releases that deserve a bigger room.
Welcome. Let’s begin.
January. Pull up a chair.
The Light Below – Georgia
Some albums floor you before you’ve had time to read the blurb. Georgia did that to me. Akhla, a Georgian women’s choir, join post metal band The Light Below, and what unfolds is wholly unexpected and utterly hypnotic.Traditional folk songs from various regions of Georgia meet a wall of heavy guitars, and somehow, impossibly, it makes complete sense. This is what happens when two worlds stop eyeing each other with suspicion and simply decide to hold hands. Recorded by the late Steve Albini, this is a momentous duologue between ancient and new. Don’t look away.
Plash – i live alone
Winter asthenia, prescription: Plash. This young Seattle band have delivered the perfect spring album: Korean and English woven together in melodies you’ll want to live inside, guitar compositions you’ll want to feel more than try to understand. Indie meets math rock under cherry blossoms, corner of Nostalgia and Feelgood Ave. Meet me there.
Ochre – Phantasmagoria
Hailing from the depths of New Zealand underground, Phantasmagoria is an album I wouldn’t have unearthed had I not been searching for something else entirely. Ochre, with their 50 Instagram followers, are the reason why my friends make fun of me. It is also the reason why I carry on doing what I do. Not much has surfaced in my searches about them, apart from the tragic passing of one of their band members, which sits heavy as I write this. I hope they continue, because this hour-long debut is filled to the brim with original ideas that move from sludge, to post rock, to hardcore with complete conviction. What it lacks in cohesion it makes up for in soul and freshness. Please buy this album so they can make more.
House of the Blood Choir – Mum’s Anxiety
This is the second (documented) album I’ve heard this year, and it has already spurred some impulsive decisions. Mum (it is I) found out excellent skramz comes from Osaka, so naturally, she bought herself a ticket. Mom’s Anxiety is volatile, melodic, songs bursting into one another with a Japanese flair that makes the whole thing unexpectedly, undeniably catchy. Screamo, hardcore and indie lightly touched by jazz coalesce, and for 42 minutes you get the whole spectrum of emotion: sorrowful enough to sit with, hopeful enough to see you out. Chances are, in its genre, cometh December, it will be one of the last ones standing. You read it here first.
Polaris Experience – Drifting through Voids
Well if it isn’t another band hailing from Japan, here to plague my subconscious and finances in the first month of the year. I have a soft spot for proggy, techy, thrashy territory and Polaris Experience hit it with great dexterity. The opening track gave me Horrendous vibes which is why I stayed for this ambitious ride, then purchased tickets for another go. And another one. I’m not entirely sure what makes me dig this so hard. Could be the riffage. Could be the random acoustic guitar and flute. Could be that it matches my brainwaves and keeps me on my toes. Yes, it could have been tighter, but which prog album is? If you’re into the likes of Voivod and Cynic, perhaps trust me on this one and show up.
Julianna Barwick & Mary Lattimore- Tragic Magic
There could never have been a more apt album title and cover, both uprooted from the same dream. Tragic Magic is ghostly, ethereal, a soothing gauze of harp imbued with an atavistic sound that crosses into somewhere else entirely. Julianna Barwick and Mary Lattimore have made something that doesn’t quite exist in normal time. And that Vangelis cover? It may remind you Blade Runner is indeed a comfort watch. If you’re a heavy music enjoyer who just came across this gem, consider it your sign to up your harp game.