holy strays - hyperion - nnf - cass - 5$

Few folks need an excuse to wanna visit Paris but it doesn’t hurt the city’s rep that some cool new musical fumes seem to be steaming up from the cobblestoned underground lately. Chief among ‘em on our map is Sebastien Forrester, a friendly French boheme who traffics within a mélange of aliases and outfits but whose freshest mask is Holy Strays, and it’s our favorite. Stuttery motorik drum machinations, Stereolab basslines, hypno keyboard spirals, melodic fogs that float up then dissipate, a pleasingly blurry production vibe – the elements are all there and they gel superlatively. Hyperion is his first time out under the HS flag and there’s every reason for it to not be the last. Pro-dubbed/imprinted clear green tapes in j-cards with art by Forrester. Edition of 100.
-nnf

foxy baby - nnf - lp - 12$

Of all the magical inverse-universe warp-zone pop-whiplash geniuses loosed upon the world by the shortlived Outer Limits Recordings corporation, few of them deserve their pedestal status as righteously as the Foxy Baby LP. Recorded two summers ago in Berlin amidst constant nocturnal glitter-blinded visits to extraterrestrial discotheques, the album tells the strange, fragmented story of a young weirdo artist who has an encounter with an exotic otherworldly woman (the titular Ms. Foxy Baby), becomes obsessed, loses her into the cosmic blur of the city, then slips backstage at one of her shows to find her, where they mysteriously share a final cigarette while staring out across the metropolis’ skyline, then ascend into a holy void of alien lights. Or something? The specifics are tricky to pin down, but the songs say it all: tape hiss-soaked glam-damaged new wave dream-rock anthems interspersed with tripped FX interludes of revving cars, astral bubbles, and murky sparkling echoes. A total bizarro masterpiece from one of our favorite masterpiece-makers on the planet. Lipstick-colored vinyl LPs in trashy zebra-print inner sleeves in a jacket with artwork by Mr. Outer Limits himself. Edition of 500.
-nnf

magic lantern - showstopper - nnf - 7" - 5$

Companion banger to the Platoon LP, this 33 RPM single finds the Lanterns firmly in retro motor city rave-up rockist terrain, covering the cult classic “Showstopper” on the A, backed with their own James Brown soul revue funk-rock shaker “Cypress” on the flip. Recorded during the Platoon sessions and mastered by James Plotkin. Black vinyl 7 inches in cosmic boogie collage jackets designed by Cameron Stallones. Edition of 500.
-nnf

topaz rags - the crown center - nnf - 7"- 5$

West Coast ghost squad Topaz Rags stalk back into the deadlights with a fresh vinyl single, their first new material since the Capricorn Born Again LP. Recorded in the heart of winter in a room with one blue light bulb, “The Crown Center” is pure nightprowler music: quaking bass, grime-jazz keys, dusty drums, witch choirs floating through the smog and into sleeping homes with the power lines cut. The sound of crime to come. The flip (“You Go On”) slips deeper into the psych-psycho psyche, a bleached-brain riff-rhythm grinding away endlessly while voices and electric piano stabs arc across the stereo field, raining ash. A grimmer twist on the Topaz formula, the dreamer’s dream turned dark. 33 RPM 7 inches of variously colored vinyl in hand-silkscreened cardstock sleeves. Edition of 345.
-nnf

 

low light situations - office romance - nnf - cass - 5$

Misery may love company but the reverse is true as well. And few improv-y crews are as adept at coaxing delicious smoky noir heartbreak as City Terrace quartet Low Light Situations. It only takes a couple turtlenecks, two beards, three folding chairs, one clarinet, and a single sizzle-chain for these itinerant east LA session players to slow-roast a set’s worth of mesmerizing instrumental reverb chamber mystery-jazz. Whispery percussion, piano bar bass noodles, echo-twang guitar spiderwebs, and twilit ivory tickling slow-dance and romance in a tall-ceilinged hall of mirrors, occasionally spilling over into passages of dissonant drama or hushed emptiness. A great sustained mood melodrama parsed into six subtle micro-movements. Hopefully the LL Situations will grace the world with more of their covert outsider noir in the not-too-distant future. Pro-dubbed and imprinted cream cassettes in full-color cardstock j-cards designed by Manda B Brown. Edition of 100.
-nnf

high wolf - acension - nnf - lp - 12$

Pyramidal meditationist High Wolf has been highly active since last summer’s Animal Totem tape dropped on NNF: he’s released three full-length CDRs, started his own record label (Winged Sun), begun a mail-collab with Astral Social Club (as Iibiis Rooge), embarked on two UK/Euro tours (one with heavyweights Gnod), plus trekked out on a 2-month-long solo journey through India to collect field recordings and get deep. Whoa! Makes you feel lazy right? Well actually that’s not all, as he also spent a few months somewhere in there recording, mixing, and re-recording the five multifaceted ethno-flux odysseys that comprise Ascension, his debut vinyl full-length. Utilizing his usual toolbag of looped tablas, fuzz guitar leads, chiming white light guitar, synth swells, and cloud-climbing electronics, the album safaris through a host of ecstatic ritual landscapes with more focus and magic than any other High Wolf hunt to date. A beautiful album for dissolving, dreaming, dancing (in a certain way). Been spinning this one weekly, share the flight. Black vinyl LPs mastered by Pete Swanson and housed in jackets with artwork by Maia Serena and layout by Kaugummi Magazine captain Bartolome Sanson. Edition of 400.
-nnf

psychic reality / la vampires - nnf - lp- 12$

Every day’s as new as you want it to be so take up the torch and light something unlit. Definite off-the-grid mentalities prevail on this genre-dissolving split 12” between San Fran anima soul voyager Leyna Noel aka Psychic Reality and So-Cal acid-jazz crate-digger LA Vampires. Noel’s toured the states coast-to-coast and dropped a couple potent tape/CDR effigies in the past year but this is her vinyl debut and it captures everything searing and singular about her live alchemy in glowing, glorious detail. Four inter-flowing songs of tone-float piano keys, bedroom drum machines, and white light amplifier vox. Trance-damaged and truth-seeking. LA Vampires’ side madlibs through a more mercurial matrix, using slowed/screwed tapes, boombox Casio FX, low end theories, and bleached voice patterns to conjure a reverb chamber’s worth of dance floor mirages. Future collabs with Zola Jesus and Sun Araw should expound her rhythm method mission. Abuse yr illusion. Black vinyl LPs in glossy jackets with a boldly disrobed duo cover portrait by Caitlin C. Mitchell. Edition of 450.
-nnf

blank realm - heartless ark - nnf - lp- 12$

We’ve touted this Brisbane clan on multiple occasions in the past (the Mind Peril and The Returner tapes on NNF) but they say the third time’s the charm and clearly that’s true because not only is Heatless Ark Blank Realm’s vinyl debut, it’s also by far the weirdest, deepest, punkest, freakiest, aka BEST album the band’s ever made. And so for all these reasons (and more) we are happy as heaven to offer it up for the world. The porous BR line-up allows for a lot of instrumentation flux and this transience translates on record here to a strange range of agendas: open electric ecstasies (“Fabulous Terror Index”), dissonant outsider-wave art-punk (“Saint Tegram,” “Heatless Ark”), loner Jandek-y demos (“Blues Helix,” “Blues Helix 2”), slow-diving femme-sung dream-gaze (“Till I Clear My Own Name”), and beyond. Varied, wild, and intensely ambitious, this LP establishes Blank Realm as high on the high heap of the rich Australian underground, with miles more expansion potential. Hopefully western world touring plans can congeal soonishly to drive the point home. Black vinyl LPs in beautiful metallic ink smoke-ritual jackets (these jpegs don't do them justice) screenprinted by art-wizard Ryo from Topping Bottoms. Edition of 400.
-nnf

heather leigh - jailhouse rock - nnf - lp- 11$

It’s been a while since Scorces sorceress, Jandek collaborator, and Volcanic Tongue branch manager Heather Leigh has ventured out on vinyl under her own name. And it may be a while longer, as Jailhouse Rock is in fact a wax reissue of a long OOP 2006 cassette classic on Michigan crud factory Fag Tapes. It was a fave of ours that year (and every year), so it feels extra celebratory to be able to offer up a freshly remastered (by Pete Swanson) LP edition of the album for global re-appreciation. Sprawling, long-form descents/ascents into mythic electric disorientation, powered by her trademark recipe of FX-soaked pedal steel and voice. Jailhouse feels loosely more aligned with a mid-aughts drone/noise aesthetic than the outsider dirt road Americana of her Devil If You Can Hear Me LP (also on NNF), but the distinction is a slight one. Side A swims in swooping sheets of vox and tempestuous wind tunnel dynamics before slowly dying away to wheezing disembodied harmonica. The B piece begins in a more overtly beautiful mode, a trinity of crystalline notes picked and stretched until they’re transformed into a rapturous sky of textural distortion. Sensual and vertigo-inducing in equal measure. Black vinyl LPs in jackets with brand new paint/collage artwork by Heath Moerland (of Sick Llama, Slither, Odd Clouds, etc). Edition of 400.
-nnf

pocahaunted - make it real - nnf - lp- 12$

first press

After a six-month hiatus, a complete line-up overhaul, a trip to SXSW, a UK/EURO tour, and a full year-plus of only playing shows and writing songs and amassing totemic objects, finally Pocahaunted return to the recorded realm with their first album since 2008. Time flies when yr having not not fun and all that. Make It Real collects seven of the band’s 2009 live staples for a 40-minute-ish collage of basement body music, garage dub damage, outsider funkadelic sprawl, voodoo rhythm workouts, duo femme soul vocal dynamics, dripping gold sweat, and dream fulfillment. Recorded barefoot and shirtless and direct to tape at Green Machine Studio in summer ’09 by M. Geddes Gengras and featuring guest bamboo sax by jazzmaster Alex Gray (of Dreamcolour/Deep Magic) and mastered by James Plotkin. Black vinyl LPs in jackets with warped LA post-Parliament utopia artwork by vision wizard Spencer Longo. Edition of 500.
-nnf

magic lantern - platoon - nnf - lp- 12$

It’s been a while since The Lantern shined its High Beams out into the world but life’s a maze of alternate paths (marriage, children, Portland Oregon, etc) and that’s just the way it goes/went. Fortunately for all lovers of heavy male psych brotherhoods the ML gang convened back in 2009 before parting ways temporarily to track their second full-length, Platoon, and here it is. As oughta be expected, it's a monstrous hot-rod cruise into screaming dual wah distortions powered by the poker faced Gavin/Chip rhythm section and splattered with jazzy freak-out organ (courtesy of Phil/Stunned), trademark drooling white light William Giacchi guitar shred, and the occasional Stallones echo yelp. Featuring most of their live classics from the pre-hiatus era (“Dark Cicadas,” “Friendship,” etc) and tracked/mixed by Best Coaster Bobb Bruno, this fills the hole in yr heart left by High Beams. Black vinyl LPs in classic National Geographic photo collage jackets designed by Cameron Araw. Mastered by James Plotkin. Edition of 700. Also available on CD.
-nnf

sun araw - on patrol - nnf - 2xlp- 21$

If a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around, shit still gets crushed. If Cameron Stallones holes up solo-style in a suburban cave and wah-riffs over canned bongos for five straight months, double LPs still get dropped. These are basic life laws. The latest from Mr. Araw is easily his least compromising audio self-portrait to date. Three minute rhythm sketches are stretched into ten minute loop pedal odysseys. Organ solos last for entire vinyl sides. Ambiguous law enforcement themes are toyed with then abandoned in a haze of hypnagogic sleaze. Gone is the sweaty orchestration and funk ofHeavy Deeds, extra long gone is the sun-kissed pop smoke shuffles of Beach Head. In its place is a heavily casual, zoned, patient 85 minute drum machine burro-ride accented by phasered organ gasoline, echo guitar sparkles, funny flute trills, tried/true Stallones vocal exclamations (“Whaaaah Ohhh”), and oddball FX. Magic Lantern cornerstone William Giacchi drops by to jam on one track but it doesn’t much upset the overarching On Patrol thesis: Ride It Out. The sound of one man’s conga mind soaking in its own juices, refracted down a hall of mirrors, and allowed to ferment. Two black vinyl LPs in a thick gatefold jacket with Knight Rider-y photo collage artwork by Stallones featuring plenty of his trademark triangles and yellow fontmanship. Mastered by James Plotkin. Edition of 800. Also available on CD.
-nnf

v/a - my estrogeneration - nnf - lp- 12$

First ever NNF vinyl compilation (more in the future hopefully?) finds the spotlight landing fairly on the fairer sex, and the glare is glorious. 11 diverse femme musical energies corralled across 12 inches of black vinyl, all exclusive contributions, and the breadth of zones and interzones traversed is a beautiful thing to hear. Carry on my wayward non-sons. LPs in jackets with artwork by Pocahaunted bassist/scholar Diva Dompe, plus a full-color double-sided insert. Edition of 500. This year's Estrogeneration includes:

-Zola Jesus
-Tickley Feather
-Pocahaunted (vintage unused track from Gold Miner's Daughters sessions) 
-Inca Ore
-Topaz Rags
-HNY
-Talk Normal
-Islaja (featuring Samara Lubelski and Blevin Blectum)
-L.A. Vampires
-U.S. Girls
-Valet

 

 

 

 

sex worker - the labor of love - nnf - lp -12$

Still waters run deep but wild waters run deeper. Both when fronting San Fran free-punk body-music trio Mi Ami or performing angst-dance psycho-dramas under his solo alias, Sex Worker, Daniel Martin-McCormick always succeeds in generating total motion (and emotion) and breaking the fourth wall. His vision of tranced/anguished rhythm questing hits an apex on The Labor Of Love, his LP debut under the Sex Worker guise, and we’ve been soaking in its dark arts for months. Pulsing, lo-fi kraut electronics bubble and sputter under hazy arcs of weirdo vocal smear. Escapist disco drum machines cruise into the horizon under a canopy of dubby accents and FX percussion, sometimes peaking in harsh frenzies of echo-scream meltdowns. All three pieces function as anthems or elegies or protest songs articulating Daniel’s heavy anti-sex trafficking/enslaved bodies activist agenda but you don’t have to know the depths of the ethical framework to grasp the vibe. An intensely unique and hyper-personal statement from one of our favorite west coast music-dreamers. Black vinyl LPs in jackets designed by the artist. Edition of 450.
-nnf

 

 

 

wet hair - dream - nnf - lp -  14$

When Iowa City freak-out free-rockers Raccoo-oo-oon called it quits last year it left a bummer scar in the Midwest underground scene. But time is a great healer, and so are new bands. So out of the ashes of the RAC pack comes Wet Hair, a synth-punk-trance duo composed of keyboardist/vocalizer Shawn Reed and keyboardist/drummer Ryan Garbes, and Dream is the band’s debut vinyl full-length after a series of increasingly shredding limited-edition cassettes on their own Night People label. Piling together an unlikely trash heap of Suicide-style drum machine beat-bops, zone-droned krautrock keys, and fucked up outsider crooning, the LP’s four tracks careen across a spectrum of moods and mangled melodies. Recorded at Flat Black Studios by Luke Tweedy and mastered by Pete Swanson, Wet Hair’s cult electric annihilation has never gleamed with such razor-edged weirdness; this is their dream made real. Black vinyl LPs in jackets with artwork by Reed and Garbes, plus a pro-printed full-color 11x11 insert. CD edition available on Release The Bats.
-nnf

 

 

 

 

wet hair - glass fountain - nnf - lp - 14$

Welcome back. One of NNF’s total favorite active bands return with a second full-length (most of which was recorded during the same sessions that birthed their debut LP, Dream) and we are pleased as spiked fruit punch. The Reed/Garbes duo mainly sticks to their guns, mining the same post-Suicide art-trance vein they perfected on Dream, but with Glass Fountain there’s an added emphasis on the disembodied, oscillator pop mode that Wet Hair often toy with. Fountain’s five tracks include some of the band’s simplest but catchiest songs (“Crucifix In The Waves,” “When The Right Time Comes,” etc), mesmerizing organ melodies over plink-plonky vintage drum machines with weirdo soulful singing and outer space electronics, like an outsider-punk Silver Apples or something. Hard to say exactly what universe Wet Hair are operating in and that’s probably part of why we love it so much. A killer record that gets better each spin. In jackets with art drawn and designed by the band, plus a pro-printed 11x11 insert. Edition of 600 (400 on opaque lavendar vinyl, 200 on black).
-nnf

explorers - bermuda telepaths - nnf - lp - 12$

Bermuda Telepaths is the latest title lifted out of the fruit-and-photocopy-strewn Outer Limits Recordings archive and into the ears of the world at large. Recorded under the never-again-used Explorers moniker and first edited into album form about a year ago, this hallucinatory patchwork trip into the ether synthesizes all of OLR’s deepest loves – boombox fidelity, quick cuts, keyboard loop sorcery, underwater pop, general mind surfing – into a humbly hypnotic whirlpool of energies. Apparently there was a concept/thesis behind the album’s genesis somehow involving psychic powers, lizard people, and the Bermuda Triangle, but the details are hazy. Which befits the audio in question. Read your palm. Take a walk in your thoughts. Explore away. Black vinyl LPs in jackets with artwork designed by the artist, plus a copy shop poem insert. Edition of 330.
-nnf

 

 

 

ex cocaine / yellow swans - nnf - lp - 12$

Two storied USA duo institutions share war stories across twelve miles of raw wax, and the rest of us are lucky enough to eavesdrop. Missoula, Montana’s Ex-Cocaine continue roping that weird rambling wind that seems to stir the soul and keep America mellow, and the pair of anthems they jam out here encapsulates the whole breadth of their sea-to-shining-sea cosmosis. Plainsong guitar lassoes around loose-limbed percussion flame-fanning, building and burning till a boss bonfire glows on the horizon, then they close out the side with a ragged and earnest Meat Puppets cover that’s become a live staple of late. Real and roamin’. On the B, Yellow Swans channel a supreme slice of psychedelic eulogy that cuts twice as deep with the knowledge that after many a summer (they birthed in 2002-ish) dies the Swan. Pete and Gabe’s DYS saga has spanned the decade and their impending non-existence will be lamented all over the world, so the more 11th hour record books they want to stencil with their electric synergies, the better for all of us. R.I.P.eace out. In a stunning “sexy legs” kaleidoscopic masterpiece art jacket by Religious Knife Maya Miller. Half on bleached olive vinyl, half on black. Edition of 600.
-nnf

 

 

cloudland canyon / mythical beast - split - nnf - 12" -  12$

This fair pairing has been in the wings for a few years now by our count, but tripped things come to those who wait, so better late-as-shit than never. Cloudland Canyon have been spanning geographies (Brooklyn, Germany, Memphis) and genres (krautrock, drone, psych-pop) since at least 2002, but only recently has their technological studio-sorcery began to gather steam and affect the more far-flung populations (powered in no small part by their partnership with Kranky Records). Anyone who's gotten lost in CC's latest, Lie In Light, knows this duo is currently at the pinnacle of their potency, and their offering here ("Harvest Hunt") is a fantastic mechanical motorik ascent into symphonic hypnosis. Comparisons to classic Teutonic psych outfits of yesteryear are warranted but inadequate: this is music of today, for tomorrow. On the flip, beloved Not Not Fun in-laws Mythical Beast return to the vinyl spotlight with two luminous soul meditations conjured during the past winter's grey maze of days. Both ballads burn with Corinne's voice-for-the-voiceless defiance, wind-draped and incensed by Jeremiah and Aaron's subtle electric string energies. Naked music for open spaces, empty skies, endless nights. High-audio 45 RPM LPs (NNF's first!) in matte-jackets with cloud-skull artwork by Blackblack beauty Diva Dompe. Edition of 415.
-nnf

 

expensive shit - powwow with chopper - nnf - cass - 5$

Named (hopefully) after the scorching ‘75 Fela LP that was inspired by an incident where Nigerian cops planted a joint on him but then he ate it to destroy the evidence and then they detained him till they could inspect his feces (can you believe that?!), Expensive Shit are a wrecked wrecking crew from Austin that specialize in braindead riff carnage of the rawest order. By their own interweb admission they consider their influences “sludge meditation” and “winging it” and their band policy is “no practice, we play anywhere.” That said, Powwow With Chopper – the band’s first public release as far as our we know – road-blasts through gnarly terrain: pulsing avalanches of zen distortion, basement garbage drums, mono-chord ascension marches, etc. No maps, no artifice, just now-minded in-the-blood-red street fighter rock chaos. Pro-imprinted tapes in wild double-sided full-color J-cards with crazy “Zangief chain fight” artwork by Pittsburgh rip-nagogic scholar Spencer Longo. Edition of 128.
-nnf

pink luminous invocation - pink fog - nnf – cdr –8$ sold out

Psychic smog. Memory-loss drugs. Tapestries of delay pedals. All great avenues to feeling fucked up and blissed/lost. Here’s another. Danish combo Pink Luminous Invocation serve up a half-hour bowl of sonic syrup, laced with wind chimes, methedrone, and déjà vu. Buried voices bleed like clouds, bouts of phasing stasis lapse into electric déjà vu. Like a more burned-out Pelt, or a sleeping Ghosting. Meditative and sedated. Silkscreened CDRs in black plastic cases with silk-screened, hand-stamped wraparound covers studded with jewels, plus a full-color insert. Hand-numbered edition of 71
-nnf

watersports / changeling - split - nnf – cass –8$ sold out

Hello/goodbye. Entrance tones and farewell dissolves. Two of NNF’s pinnacle favorite cell-melting haze-raisers bow heads across a bliss-blind C50. Watersports are the heroically rad Russ and Lea, who head up NYC’s chief trickle-down esoterica fountain/label, White Tapes. The duo’s flow session here, “Mother’s Touch,” rides a smoke-wave of four-dimensional heartbeat pulses and spirit-organ drift-shift into pure hypno-unbecoming. Like being absorbed into a holy amoeba. Obviously: beautiful. Changeling’s B-side, “Great Tranquility,” buries yr ears in even more dream-fog, with voices flayed across infinite green/grey webs of lattice glowing clouds. New age prism-swimming through skies of delay. Color-misted tapes in hand-numbered olive vellum J-cards, with hand-colored off-set heaven-cell stickers on the cover. Artwork by Roy Tatum of Changeling.
-nnf

dreamcolour - spiritual celebration - nnf - cass - 6$ sold out

There’s currently a glut of bands dog-paddling around the trans-continental psych-pond with names involving words like ‘color,’ ‘dream,’ and ‘infinity,’ and Ventura County brass-groove arkestra Dreamcolour are smack thick in the middle of this ’08-‘09 nomenclatorial zeitgeist (though to their credit they use the British spelling). Yet, semi-ironically, the mood of the zones they explore on Spiritual Celebration are wonderfully vintage, with a strange, reverential “out of time” quality that seems decidedly non-NOW. Hand-drums beat along with a steady, easy lope, saxes are crooned (not skronked) smoothly up towards the sun, Farfisa trills further brighten the corners. There’s no damaged FX-abuse or lo-fi freakouts; all minds are fused into one gently simmering open-air spiritual jazz homage. Echoes of Don Cherry abound. The tape is split into three chapters: a stunning 20-minute A-side hayride (“Spiritual Celebration”), a briefer horn flurry piece (“Sun Ritual”), and a gorgeous lunar meditation chamber (“Moon Ritual”). A great West Coast force with an exotic back catalogue and a killer live vibe, worth keeping tabs on. Pro-dubbed cassettes in cases with full-color marker/collage J-cards designed by Amanda. Edition of 100.
-nnf

abe vigoda - skeleton - nnf - cass -7$ sold out

Shit is cliché, but ya can’t fight the fact that time changes EVERYTHING (or wait, maybe it's money?). Either way: we’re pretty old but not so old we’ve forgotten the cradle days of early Abe Vigoda shows when they only liked Smashing Pumpkins, short shorts, and boating shoes, and their sets were short spiky blasts of post-Unwound lo-fi outsider-punk (a la the Sky Route/Star Roof LP). That was a long time ago. But like all good bands the Vigodans have re-invented themselves a half dozen times over since then, and it’s been a totally rad ride to witness the evolution/transformation, especially since their journey’s culminated in the total sparkling tropic magic sunbath of Skeleton, the best AV record ever. Years of fiddling with delay pedal settings and intricate bass/drums equations somehow resulted in a weird, bright, upbeat island punk sound that’s as catchy and life-affirming as it is tripped-out and overwhelming. Who knew? Catch these die-hards at a show in yr neck of the woods any day now; they are now on PERMA-TOUR. Pro-dubbed cassettes in a “Columbia Records”-style super legit J-card. Edition of 200.
-nnf

sun araw - heavy deeds - nnf - cd - 9$ sold out

Heavy Deeds, indeed man. One of our So-Cal hometown heroes steps back up to the vinyl plate with a new set of songs that are at once loftier, sweatier, deeper, groovier, and wilder than anything he’s done before (and that’s not said lightly, cause we were stupid-huge fans already). Five focused tracks meshing together the cosmic feedback of The Phynx with the sunshine ecstasy of Beach Head and the equatorial swelter of Boat Trip, plus a potent mainline of primitive rhythm, drug funk, and broken glass, it’s a sick step sideways for the Sun Araw solar system, and an easy contender for Album-of-’09 status. Check the blazing wah streetfight that breaks out mid-way through “Get Low,” the magic brainbath haze soaking into the joints of “Hustle And Bustle,” or the endless feel-good float-away of the climax of “All Night Long;” these are mountaintops, these are trophies, these are heavy deeds. Here’s to hoping the Araw-iverse keeps on keeping on. Mastered by James Plotkin with lil’ Stevie screengrab jacket artwork designed by Stallones, plus a full-color pro-printed double-sided insert. Edition of 600, 400 on marbled blue wax, 200 on black.
-nnf

 

barrabarracuda- abasement tapes - nnf – cdr – 8$ sold out

Confusion is hex. Or worse. Digging around in the BBC vaults yields a lot of dubbed-over Aerosmith tapes and scrawled notes like “chaos jam – LOUD.” Factor in the steady membership flux and restless vibe/sound shifts and you’ve got an archivist’s nightmare on your hands. But here it is anyway. Abasement Tapes spans the band’s last 15 foggy months, culling fucked cuts from early Grace-phase, dual-drummer, post-political, microphone assault all the way to relatively recent Roy-era, stoned-free, art-rant amp-songs. Five tracks, fifty minutes, a thousand years of historical/celebrity shit-talking. Neon stenciled CDRs in black plastic cases with full-color wrap-around collage covers (artwork by Manda), affixed with weird beaded safety pins, plus a stenciled, hand-numbered insert. Limited to 120.
-nnf

 

nasa - diamonds & wood - nnf - cass - 6$ sold out

These post-everything (noise-rock, kraut-punk, thrash-psych), post-Floridian (they live all over the place now...Canada, East Coast, etc) post-teens (somebody’s 20) have a savvy knack for mainlining that exact slow-burn basement car crash guitar/drums symbiosis that makes us wanna simultaneously mosh, steal a skateboard, and put out a tape. The previous NASA cassette on NNF (Bummer Daze) rolled in more of a groove-damaged Blues Control-on-glue mode, and the production was kinda clean and line-in sounding in places. But Diamonds & Wood (in addition to being the name of a bangin' Underground Kingz song) is in fact an earlier NASA album, recorded back in 2006 and originally released in an edition of 24 on their own H Tapes imprint. We’ve always wanted to reissue it for more ears, and happily that day has come. A staggering hour-long descent into frenzied depths of overdriven riffing, drum abuse, and distortion psychosis that seems to get inexplicably more and more lo-fi as it grinds on, this is what the teenage garage bands of America in our dreams sound like (not far off from a wasted, rawer Heavy Winged). Sloppy, shredding, surreal, sick, and stupid in equal parts, NASA at the height of their Epcot Center-based powers are nothing if not a shining example of low/high/no-art primitivism in its most gutter and uncut form. Take it or leave it. Pro-dubbed and imprinted tapes in silver-misted cases with full-color wood grain/bejeweled artwork designed by Amanda. Hand-numbered edition of 100.
-nnf

law of the rope - beasts will have you - nnf - cass - 6$ sold out

Old folks often spout off to kids about not gettin’ in the car with strangers, but that doesn’t mean you can’t release cassettes by them. Good thing, too, cause bands creep outta the woodwork all the time with hoods on their heads and a fine master in their hand, and who’re we to give ‘em some inquisition shit? Law Of The Rope is an alleged trio (Nadine, Legin, and Beatrix Oppression, in case yr wondering) from the “United States Minor Outlying Islands” (yeah right) who mine a very idiosyncratic vein of isolated bedroom black metal somewhere between the more downtempo miserablist symphonies of Xasthur, the deranged 8-track stream-of-consciousness grooves of Lurker of Chalice, and the harsh arctic blasts of Wold. We’re no experts on the subject, but Beasts Will Have You holds its own against all those touchstones, and even adds a nice non-metal dimension to a lotta the songs that free ‘em up from the genre’s restrictions/expectations. The tape’s 2 16-minute-ish sides stalk through the spectrum of foul moods, at turns caged and violent, other times awash in arch-gothic negative grandeur, fleshed out with somber strings and icy life-in-prison-style keyboards. Bleak is back. Pro-dubbed & imprinted cassettes in black-on-black devourer art cases with black-and-blood paper fangs glued to the plastic. Edition of 100.
-nnf

 

 

pukers - live in minneapolis - neon commune - nnf - cs -  7$ sold out

Iowa City-turned-LA miscreants took their sneering, conceptual punk puke (plus renegade guitarist/corn farmer Will Kapp) on the road last winter for a whirlwind pillaging of living rooms and art dives and one of the dates best caught on tape was this Minnesota gig. Chaos meets content meets a ten-man mosh pit. Future cops beware. In pirated Pukers/peace-logo silkscreened cardstock cases. Edition of 50.
-nnf

malibu falcon - how is hell fact met? all of them witches - nnf - cass - 7$ sold out

Hello, history lesson: those who forget the past are condemned to check it out via limited cassette reissues. Or something like that. Malibu Falcon was an early aughts act from Portland, Oregon that existed sporadically in impulsive electrical fires of shows and recording sessions and starred west coast lifers like Eva Inca Ore and Nick Bindeman (plus others) amongst its ranks. Shows were rare, releases even more so, and the combined forces of life and other band commitments soon dissolved the Falcon before a wider awareness could be achieved. Alas. So we are lucky to have on hand this salvaged anthology of 60 minutes of prime time heart-of-weirdness MF legacy. Low basement bass lines pulse under primitive sheets of guitar feedback while Eva alternately whispers, banshee screams, and rants fucked up poetry stories about LSD, boa constrictors, and stealing babies. Their general audio vibe is so heavily art-damaged it’s impossible to tether to any specific scene; too mind-fried and visceral for experimentalism but way too raw and psychotic for any kind of psych rock/pop association either. Total crevasse music, lost in limbo, PSF DIY dreams, dead end riffs, untapped, unconscious, confusion isn’t sex. For fans of freaks. Pro-dubbed tapes with collage art J-cards by Eva Saelens copied on metallic paper. Edition of 100.
-nnf

 

 

yuma nora - jewels in the snakepit - nnf - cd -8$ sold out

This is like free jazz soulful sex scattered beat noise brass explosion meets the nicest, quirkiest minds from the dreary Portland streets. We’ve been screaming about them for months as the stupid ass world finally wakes up to their “genius” (-Wire fucking Magazine !). Amy’s sultry as hell, Aaron’s got tribal blues, and Jake’s guitar is barely-there perfection. And thus, the Oregon rain clouds parted to reveal Yuma Nora, brewing up their own storm. (not not fun)

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