• Rockabilly Psychosis And The Garage Disease Flac Youtube

View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the 1984 Vinyl release of Rockabilly Psychosis And The Garage Disease on Discogs. Dec 23, 2006 - mysteryposterandfriends (dot) blogspot (dot) com. Big Beat's Rockabilly Psychosis and the Garage Disease delivers just what the title.

Forget everything you know about Hookworms. Ok, maybe not everything; the urgency and viscera both live and on record that led the five-piece to prominence across two blistering full-length LPs—2013’s Pearl Mystic and 2014 follow-up The Hum—remains. However, as they return with their much-anticipated third record Microshift, the title of the record connotates more than just the intended nod to the audio plug-in their vocalist MJ regularly uses; it could also be an understatement of a three-year narrative that’s brought about changing circumstances, influences and subsequent evolution. The English psych-punks turn down the distortion and face their demons with a new, synth-y sound on their third album.Feedback and distortion are the training wheels of indie rock—obfuscating agents that provide nervous upstarts with a sense of confidence as they face the public, secure in the knowledge that no one’s really going to be able to decipher what the hell they’re singing about.

VA - Rockabilly Psychosis And The Garage Disease 1. The Cramps - Stay Sick! The Cramps - Psychedelic Jungle; The Cramps - Look Mom, No Head! The Cramps - Fiends of Dope Island; The Cramps - Can Your Pussy Do The Dog 10inch LTD; The Cramps - Big Beat from Badsville; The Cramps - A Date With Elvis; The Cramps - Flamejob.

On their first two albums, Leeds quintet Hookworms rode those wheels down to the rim, whipping up a psych-punk squall that was heavy on the overdriven drone and extended meltdown fade-outs. You could sense they had an excitable, charismatic frontman in Matt Johnston (a.k.a. MJ), but his blown-out vocals often sounded like they were in competition with the garage-grimed organs and fuzzed-out guitars to see which could push the needle furthest into the red. Still, it didn’t really matter—by seamlessly melding that surface scuzz to adrenalized motorik rhythms, Hookworms had forged their own brand of stoner rock for people too wired to get stoned.The band’s third album, Microshift, is similarly an exercise in relentless forward motion and joyous abandon. Navigator pro hayward.

But the means they use to achieve those ends have changed dramatically: Like the reformed partier who now gets their endorphin rush from morning jogs instead of amphetamines, Hookworms have traded in chaos for clarity. The adherence to krautrockin’ repetition remains, but the proto-punk engine has been replaced by electronic loops and glacial synths. Suddenly, a band that once sounded most at home in strobe-lit basement dives now sounds primed for a late-afternoon slot at your roving summer festival of choice.It’s not just the sonic upgrade that makes Microshift perhaps this year’s most ironically titled record. In the absence of the band’s once-omnipresent din, we hear lyrics that are as emotionally messy as the music supporting them is precise and pristine.

For a long time, in interviews and on his open-book Twitter feed, MJ has been disarmingly frank about his mental health struggles (not to mention the 2015 flood that destroyed his studio and temporarily sidelined the band). But on Microshift, as never before, he grapples with some serious business head-on: death, heartbreak and body image, to name a few. What’s most striking is not the candor with which he broaches sensitive subjects, but that he sounds so eager and enthused to slay those dragons.Take the opener, “Negative Space,” a song inspired by the passing of a dear friend—but also one of the most exhilarating, exuberant indie rock songs of 2018 so far, an electro-rock Mt. Olympus whose step-by-step ascent mirrors Sound of Silver, but whose insistent vocals scream Superchunk. And where previous Hookworms songs would be content to hammer a repeated riff into oblivion, “Negative Space” showcases a newfound facility for surprise melodic changes and sublime structural shifts, like when the song’s white-knuckled energy peaks partway through and is released through a dreamy disco denouement that suggests closure.

Artists often have a tendency to make heavy weather out of recording albums. We’ve all read the features, invariably headlined TO HELL AND BACK, replete with loudly expressed comparisons to “being in the trenches”, “on the last helicopter out of Saigon” or to scenes of unimaginable terror and desperation it usually turns out were provoked by taking some drugs, occasionally arguing over the mixing and overrunning their allotted time in the studio. But by anyone’s standards, the making of Hookworms’ third album was a fraught affair, affected by everything from extreme weather events – their Leeds studio was almost destroyed in a flood – to physical and mental illness: frontman Matthew Johnson has always been open about his struggle with depression.Anyone familiar with Hookworms’ previous releases may think they know what to expect musically from Microshift. A band with modest commercial ambitions – the quintet have no management and have declined to give up their day jobs to pursue music full-time – they have nevertheless attracted critical acclaim by honing a dark, fraught, fuzz-drenched sound, equally rooted in the cyclical repetitions of krautrock and Spacemen 3 as the roaring noise of US post-hardcore punk.

It has often attracted the label “psychedelic”, but if it recalls music from the 60s at all, it isn’t the beatific relax-and-float-downstream soundtrack of the Summer of Love, but the more obscure and disturbing stuff that came just before it.Emotionally, at least, their first two albums seemed more in tune with the frenzied, hyper-distorted freakbeat tracks by the Buzz and the Syndicats that Joe Meek produced during his final descent into psychosis. Similarly, the flop singles made by hard-hitting mod bands who responded to LSD not with codified flower-power platitudes, but tumultuous, chaotic music that sounded overwhelmed, even terrified by the experience: the Game’s Help Me, Mummy’s Gone or the Voice’s The Train to Disaster. Given the circumstances of Microshift’s creation, more of the same, only more so, seems a given.But it isn’t. From its opening seconds – when a track called Negative Space kicks into life with a rhythm track influenced by early 80s electro – it becomes clear that Hookworms have done the opposite of what you might reasonably assume. Microshift is a vast and extremely bold sonic leap forward.

The thick crust of distortion that coated their earlier releases has been removed, revealing two startling finds previously buried deep within it.The first is that Johnson, an unwilling frontman apparently so underwhelmed by his own vocal abilities that he went out of his way to conceal them, has a fantastic voice, yearning, open, unaffected and really powerful, capable of delivering a succession of starkly affecting lyrical sucker punches. Frequently hemmed in by his own misery – “I’m feeling awful,” he sings on Static Resistance, “I can’t last the distance” – he keeps willing himself to go on nonetheless: “Just let it all out, don’t fall under,” cautions Opener.The second is Hookworms’ melodic facility. Easy to miss amid the tumultuous, echoing din of their debut, Pearl Mystic, and its 2014 successor, The Hum, it suddenly finds itself in the spotlight. Opener is a tight, tough pop song underpinned by a Kraftwerk-ish rhythm track that gradually unfurls into a joyous climax; closer Shortcomings has a fabulous chorus; The Soft Season is beautiful in a way that nothing they’ve recorded before has been: spectral, and spectacular with it.For all the broadening of their sound, not everything has changed. The bass and drums still regularly settle into a forceful, wired, Neu!-like groove, the organ still plays two-chord patterns that recall Suicide by way of Spacemen 3, and something of the ambience of their earlier work hangs over the murky Boxing Day, its monotone vocal interrupted by bursts of noise that sound like samples grabbed at random from a free jazz album. The grasp of dynamics that makes their live shows such powerful, cathartic affairs is still much in evidence: Ullswater’s awkward time signature lends a sense of unease to its epic, sweeping sound; songs elide into each other via passages of shimmering synthesizer tones; Negative Space is gradually lost beneath an electronic swirl.The world is full of noisy left-field art-rock bands grumpily protesting in interviews that of course they could write pop songs if they wanted to: as it turns out, Hookworms genuinely can. Moreover, they can do it without losing any of the potency or essence of their past work.

Microshift manages to be both their most accessible work and their most intense: the sound of an already powerful band gaining not just clarity, but focus.Alexis Petridis. Sound and community: two things Leeds band Hookworms know plenty about. Last year almost 30 releases were recorded at Suburban Home in Kirkstall, the studio run by the band’s synth player and vocalist Matthew Johnson (MJ).

From quirky pop-punk to melancholic grunge, a bit of everything passed through the doors.Over the past few years the space has become a mecca for the DIY scene – a place that’s affordable, inclusive and inspiring at a time when few studios are. Which is why, back in late 2015 when the building was devastated by flooding, an online fund was set up to help pay for its restoration.So, it’s no coincidence those are two big themes on this, Hookworms’ third album, recorded in the aftermath of that rebuild. Their band’s redevelopment is also stark.

In 2014 ‘The Hum’, their second album, solidified their identity, tightening the misty psychedelic sounds of their debut ‘Pearl Mystic’. And despite the album’s title, ‘Microshift’ represents not a minor step up but a gigantic stride.On an immediate level the songs sound much bigger, cleaner and more confident. Every component is crisper, from the sharpened hi-hat to MJ’s scrubbed-up vocals.Lead single ‘Negative Space’, a late contender as one of 2017’s best tracks and the opener on the album, is the purest indicator of that: seven minutes of LCD Soundsystem meets ‘Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)’ glory.

And that high standard’s no fluke. Next up, ‘Static Resistance’ is stadium-filling rock from a band still committed to their DIY ethics. And they keep on coming: the propulsive ‘Ullswater’, teary ‘The Soft Season’ and the epic ‘Opener’.It’s not just the production of the tracks that feels brighter.

As in the past, MJ’s lyrics explore some difficult territory – depression, death and grief. But this time, it feels there’s some light creeping into the dark matter – ultimately messages of hope, strength and unity.In an ever-changing landscape for British ‘guitar music’ – hello Shame, farewell Wild Beasts – this is a sound, a set of songs, that deserves to expand the size of Hookworms’ hard-won community. It’s been well earned.by.Greg Cochrane.

Only in the closing minutes of the Hookworms’ new LP, Microshift, does the band reveal the thought that informs the entire record. The energy on display on their third album makes it hard to hide the secret, but when lead vocalist MJ sings, “I’ve found a way to love the world” it becomes apparent that acceptance of what life deals you is the best way to move forward. In the three plus years since the band’s last record they have dealt with death, disaster, illness and struggles with mental health. As daunting as that would seem, the overall power and joy in the musical output here comes across as rapturous even when the words sometimes describe the challenges faced. The band goes to a more electronic based sound on Microshift dominated by Krautrock ryhthms and in places bordering on prog rock density but without the bloat. The first track ‘Negative Space’ opens with over a minute of electronic guttural voice, but the song builds in layers until an almost separate and beautiful song shakes loose in the second half. The negative space of the title refers to people who have left us but the void is still palpable – “I still see you every time I’m down”, forms the gentle chorus.

Rockabilly Psychosis And The Garage Disease Flac Youtube

The pulsing ‘Ullswater’ deals with loss and regret as well, but of a loved one to Alzheimer’s – but again the music bolsters a feeling of moving forward. The lovely ‘The Soft Season’ is another key highlight of the album with MJ’s vocal being fully out in the open and showcasing a new found vulnerability or at least a more transparent version. This is one of those albums that over repeated listens each pulse, scratch, scribble and beat will seep into your psyche so that each nuance comes to be anticipated or you can play it back in your head (similar to Tame Impala’s Currents in that regard). An amazing album that if not in my Top 10 by the end of the year will show that 2018 turned out to be one of the best years in music in a long, long time. Have some patience, as the band has with their trials and we have since their last release, and you will be deeply rewarded.by manymoodys. Negative Space’, the first single released from ‘Microshift’ was one of the most brilliantly surprising returns of last year.

Placing the band’s signature fuzzy kraut aside, the track is a soaring punch of dance-rock that catapults the Leeds five-piece towards the dancefloor, somewhere it seemed inconceivable for them to end up.As ‘Microshift’ rolls along, the lead of ‘Negative Space’ isn’t altogether followed, but there’s a lighter touch to the record, adding contemplation to the already-evident intensity of 2014’s brilliant ‘The Hum’. ‘Static Resistance’ is a breezy follow-up, while ‘Ullswater’’s gloopy, repetitive bassline and anthemic, sweeping conclusion recalls a certain James Murphy.As with the countless brilliant records he’s worked on over the last five years, MJ’s production shines here - ‘Microshift’ bristles with life and never sits still. Almost drone-like atmospherics sit on ‘The Soft Season’, a track which sees the producer’s vocals shine, replacing his trademark yelp with something, suitably, altogether softer. He proves himself an increasingly versatile vocalist.

While ‘The Hum’ proved a logical step forward for Hookworms, ‘Microshift’ pays little attention to the script, and is all the more thrilling for it. By Will Richards. Hookworms recently revealed that with ‘Microshift’, they wanted “to make a record that when we played it would be euphoric.” This may seem like a curveball, especially after the turmoil Hookworms have faced over the past couple of years with the flooding of their recording studio and other personal issues that arose around the time.However, with lead single ‘Negative Space’, this may just be the cathartic release they need.

A sprawling LCD Soundsystem-esque dance-punk odyssey, the instrumentation of ecstatic synths and jubilant vocals on ‘Negative Space’ make for some of Hookworms’ best work to date. The band’s krautrock roots also still remain. With ‘Static Resistance’, which bolsters a flamboyant and exuberant performance from MJ, the Herculean ‘Ullswater’ and the post-punk ‘Boxing Day’ all exhibit the outfit’s penchant for creating intricate and driving psych-rock.Bubbling into ‘The Soft Season’, a serene display of luscious synthesisers, Hookworms pass through the cosmos with the eight-minute ‘Opener’.

The glittery samples of ‘Each Time We Pass’ reach out and spread until they unfold in a sea of technicolour, while ‘Reunion’ has Hookworms going all Blade Runner with a track that could easily pass as an ode to Vangelis’ ‘Love Theme’. This record is truly marvellous.Reborn through anguish, Hookworms are alive and otherworldly as ever.byLiam Egan. Hookworms embody this attitude. Although signed to Domino records, their ethos is DIY; they’re self-managed, self-produced (frontman MJ is a producer of note), and record in MJ’s Suburban Home Studios in Kirkstall, a workspace which had to be rebuilt pretty much from scratch after being gutted when the River Aire broke its banks back in 2015.Initially incorrectly lumped in with the ‘new psych’ scene, this third album (following 2014s The Hum and Pearl Mystic a year prior) seesHookworms moving away away from the cosmic punk of their past, although barely concealed rage remains evident. More than anything else however, groove-based propulsion informs proceedings this time. With their studio out of action while being rebuilt, the band focused on creating samples and loops which alongside use of modular synths has naturally led to a more electronic sound, one which suits them perfectly.Opening track 'Negative Space” may on first listen come across as that 'rock band goes dance’ thing, but there’s something much more substantial going on here.

Bubbling analogue sounds and a pervading low-key delivery gradually build into uneasy but danceable anxiety, MJ’s vocal rising in intensity in tandem with the music. More ranting than singing, he spits out frustrated lines such as “I’m sure I used to make you laugh / but now you’re not reacting' before repeatedly asking “how long’s forever?”. Synth uplifts and grinding guitar work typify the sound here and throughout Microshift, a record that’s lyrically bummed out but musically sprinkled with euphorica.This is the first proper reveal from MJ. His bouts of depression are well documented elsewhere but on record such emotions have previously been obscured by vocal reverb and layers of sound.

This time, his vocals are given their own space and show how compelling a lyricist he is. Some of the words and phrases used make his state of mind explicit; on “Static Resistance”, the jittery drone-led krautrock pop fizz masks verses of pure (but catchy) paranoia (“I ran from my feelings / I ran from the city/ I ran from desire / lust haunts us forever”).

This kind of juxtaposition isn’t simple to achieve - taking a coda of “Facing down / I’m feeling awful” and making it dancey as hell takes skill, confidence and sheer fuck it-ness.“Ullswater”, the central point and highlight of the album, is a staggering piece of music, the band reimagined as machine: techno riffs, harmonious organs and percussive complexity clash with rising vigour and claustrophobic atmospherics as MJ muses how “Losing faith in / time./ I should’ve have seen you more, I know” before a grouped holler of “HOW. Long-time followers of Hookworms might have been forgiven for fearing that this third record from the band would never materialise. Despite the lavish critical praise that was heaped upon the five-piece’s 2013 debut, ‘Pearl Mystic’, as well as its 2014 follow-up, ‘The Hum’, there were signs that Lady Luck wasn’t smiling upon them as early as March of 2015, when visa issues outside of the group’s control conspired to torpedo a planned tour of the U.S. Considerably worse was to come, though; the Boxing Day floods of the same year that ravaged large swathes of the north of England devastated Hookworms HQ – frontman Matt Johnson’s Suburban Home studio in north-west Leeds.Having already taken a significant financial hit after their transatlantic tour was pulled, Johnson and the band faced potential ruin in the wake of the floods, even though they’d been able to get down to the studio and salvage equipment before the rising waters could claim it. Hookworms’ GoFundMe-friendly fanbase, as well as Johnson’s standing as one of the country’s most in-demand underground producers, helped dig them out of the situation, although it took a full six months before Suburban Home was back up and running.The reason that all of this background is so important when discussing ‘Microshift’ is that, put simply, the title of the album is a red herring. This group of songs represents a major change of pace.

In a recent interview, Johnson self-deprecatingly suggested it was necessary because the band had “made the same record twice already”. It’s certainly a departure from ‘Pearl Mystic’ and ‘The Hum’; the extended, krautrock jams are eschewed this time in favour of lighter, bouncier soundscapes that place much more importance than ever before on melody.Plus, Johnson’s vocals – previously shrouded by a veil of reverb – now ring out with real clarity, bringing to the fore his lyrics, which are diametrically opposed to the relatively breezy sound of the album; he tackles, head on, the state of mind that both the floods and a raft of personal issues have left him in. There’s probably an argument that in lightening the aural mood, though, ‘Microshift’ sacrifices a little of the intensity of old, even if the epic likes of ‘Ullswater’ and ‘Opener’ simmer towards the sort of chaotic territory the band are well acquainted with. (Expect those tracks in particular to sound absolutely blistering live.) One thing for sure, though, is that Hookworms sound a damn sight more energetic than anyone could have expected in the circumstances. Rejuvenated, even.by Joe GogginsMuch like Hookworms’ previous albums, Microshift specialises in a cathartic approach to psychedelia and punk: their music focuses on the juxtaposition between light and dark; the ever-present quest for happiness amidst gnawing desolation. Those nuances create something very human: the idea that the most basic emotions – such as happiness – can sometimes feel unattainable. Yet the opportunities are always there, lingering in the distance.The Leeds quintet are still dealing with existential themes – you can sense the pain and deprivation in singer MJ’s voice – yet it’s a little less strained here.

The faint glimmer of hope that underpinned previous LPs is less inconspicuous and more of a prominent theme. See opener Negative Space for conviction: 'I still hear you every time I’m down’ sings MJ – lyrically introspective, the music is upbeat and denotes hope. Similarly, the album’s weighty lyrical themes – from body image to depression and loss – is at odds with its musical optimism.Microshift utilises the band’s propensity for psychedelia and takes it somewhere new: it’s the band’s most accessible record to date, but the subtle electronic idiosyncrasies keep it interesting.

Immersive and lyrically heavy, but not without radiancy and light, Hookworms’ ability to turn desperation into euphoria is a quality that makes this album a liberating, often healing, experience by Hayley Scott.