Subsound Records

Minipony – Ajna Review

Minipony – Ajna Review

I’ve listened to a lot of metal. I’ve listened to a lot of very average metal. I’ve listened to some pretty bad metal. Despite all this, I was simply unprepared for Ajna. You see, Ajna is on another level entirely. True story: “Because of Ajna, I could not complete the train journey to work this week. It was halfway through my 5th listen when something cracked. “Why would the Boss Ape force this upon me?” I mused. “Is this a test of my loyalty?” If so, it was a stern examination. The pointless sound effects; the bizarre vocals; the bite-sized, jittery riffs; these all congealed into a force that simply overwhelmed my brain. I could no longer compute, and the only response was to laugh. So, I did. I howled and cackled and coughed up my coffee.” Small horse, big confusion.

Last Call at Nightowls – Ask the Dust Review

Last Call at Nightowls – Ask the Dust Review

“There is something special about music created by artists who must collaborate with each other from afar rather than together in person. Take the short-lived yet beloved synth-pop duo, The Postal Service. Two artists, electronic musician and DJ Jimmy Tamborello of Los Angeles and Ben Gibbard, singer of the indie band Death Cab for Cutie, of Seattle decided to collaborate with each other undeterred by the distance between them. Jimmy and Ben overcame said distance by sending recordings back and forth via, no joke, the United States Postal Service. I find this mode of collaboration endearing, and I still hold The Postal Service’s one album Give Up near and dear to my heart. Dark ambient doom-jazz band Last Call at Nightowls followed the same formula The Postal Service employed to create their debut album Ask the Dust.” Suspicious package.

Juggernaut – Neuroteque Review

Juggernaut – Neuroteque Review

“When you hear about certain genres, do you have an image that pops into your head? It’s not always fair, but the most obvious one is black metal. You just got an image of a corpsepainted weeboo hanging out in a dark forest. Boom. I’m a fucking magician. What about sludge? Did you see a backwoods redneck with a twelve-gauge and a six-pack? Sporting beards, greasy locks, and enough flannel to challenge Saskatchewan?” Not your hick uncle’s sludge.