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If punk culture and aesthetics ever had a poet, it would undoubtedly be Kō Machida. Best known as the visionary frontman of the pioneering punk band INU and later acclaimed as a novelist, essayist, and professor, Machida has built a career at the intersection of raw musical energy and razor-sharp literary craftsmanship. Eleven years after the groundbreaking 1981 masterpiece INU – Meshi Kuuna!, Machida returned with a new creative chapter: the album *Harafuri*. This record marked a significant evolution, fusing his uncompromising lyrical power with the modernized sonic force of Kitazawagumi, a band whose sound became the perfect canvas for Machida’s sharp wit and emotional depth. Now, Harafuri sees its first-ever official reissue, presented with utmost care and attention to detail. Every element has been restored to honor both its cultural resonance and artistic precision. Most notably, this edition includes meticulously retranslated English lyrics—bringing Machida’s singular voice to an international audience without losing its vivid intensity and layered meaning. At once biting, poetic, and ferociously alive, Harafuri is more than an album: it is a literary and musical landmark that speaks across time and geography. With this reissue, listeners everywhere are invited to rediscover Kō Machida not only as a pioneering punk icon but as one of Japan’s most vital contemporary voices.
La Düsseldorf's debut album, formed by Klaus Dinger after the dissolution of NEU!, sublimated the experimental nature of Krautrock into a pop sensibility.
The tracks "La Düsseldorf," "Silver Cloud," and "Time" create a hypnotic and celebratory atmosphere through their repetitive motorik beat and shimmering synthesizers. The album is marked by the energetic vocals of Klaus Dinger and a sense of openness within its minimal structure.
Transcending the boundaries of German rock, this work radiates a genre-crossing appeal, where an art-rock perspective fuses with a DIY spirit. It stands as a symbol of Krautrock's evolution, continuing to shine brightly with a freshness that influenced later new wave and techno music.
As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.
Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.
Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.
Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.
Legendary 1976 Private Press Rarity Documents Oklahoma's most uncompromising Proto-Punk visionaries, this trio produced art-damaged outsider rock influenced by Stooges, Beefheart, and Velvet Underground In the annals of American underground music, few stories capture the collision between artistic vision and geographic reality as perfectly as Debris. This trio from Chickasha, Oklahoma - a town roughly 40 miles southwest of Oklahoma City - created "some of the most art-damaged outsider rock 'n' roll this side of MX-80 Sound" while facing what historians describe as "indifference, and even redneck hostility" in their home territory. Now, Superior Viaduct brings their legendary 1976 private press rarity back into circulation, offering contemporary listeners access to one of proto-punk's most uncompromising statements. Debris emerged from the ashes of previous musical experiments by Charles "Chuck Poison" Ivey and Oliver "Rectomo" Powers, who had spent years playing in local bands including The Cocktails and "Victoria Vein and the Thunderpunks (using the word punk years before it became the label of the genre)". In summer 1975, they approached drummer Johnny Gregg to form what would become their most radical musical statement yet. The band's brief but spectacular existence consisted of only "4 live concerts before the band broke up", yet their impact on underground music proved immense. Their chaotic performance style and dark, experimental sound - influenced by The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, Captain Beefheart, and English glam rock - did not endear them to local audiences. The ultimate expression of this disconnect came at "a Battle of the Bands competition where 50 bands competed for a new sound system, Debris came in dead last while a cover band took home the prize" - a perfect metaphor for their relationship with conventional music culture. During two sessions at Benson Sound Studios in Oklahoma City in December 1975, Debris cut their only full length record. The band paid $1,590 for ten hours of recording time (only using six hours and 59 minutes) and a 1,000 LP pressing. Released in April 1976 - the same month as the Ramones' debut - their self-titled album (also known as Static Disposal) represented a radical fusion of garage punk energy with avant-garde experimentation. What makes Debris so remarkable is its anticipation of sounds that wouldn't become widespread until years later. Enhanced by analog synthesizers and electronic effects, the album sounds like Eno-era Roxy Music or The Stooges' Fun House filtered through Oklahoma's red dirt and underground isolation. These "LSD-tinged tunes are a potent mix of Beefheart-ian controlled chaos and the genuinely weird avant-rock" that would later define industrial and post-punk movements. The band's reputation extended far beyond their geographic isolation. "Only a few months later, the record they had mailed all over the states bore fruit and they were approached to play at CBGB--it was their chance to make it big too late." Max's Kansas City also extended invitations, but the band never made it out of Oklahoma, adding to their mythological status. In the decades following its release, "Static Disposal slowly became a legendary lost album over the next three decades and was highly prized by collectors. The album would be noted as inspiration for bands like Scream, Sonic Youth, Nurse With Wound and The Melvins." Its inclusion on the infamous NWW list cemented its status among experimental music's essential documents.
Following up last year's acclaimed 'Heavy Glory' and collabs with Dean Blunt and Yung Lean, Iceage's Elias Rønnenfelt maxes on Yves Tumor-indebted hyper-sexual '90s indie-isms, trading sniffs 'n sneers with Erika de Casier, Fine and The Congos. RIYL Happy Mondays, Primal Scream or Bar Italia.
Rønnenfelt's always been good at predicting tidal shifts. Even when he was a teen fronting hardcore punk heroes Iceage he repeatedly bucked expectations, choosing to tour with fringe noise operatives like Helm and evolve the band's sound into something more like Spiritualized, augmenting chugging Britpop references with a full gospel choir on 2021's 'Seek Shelter'. So when his solo debut arrived last year, its peculiarity was almost a given; why wouldn't it be a set of country-tinted folk-rock jammers backed up with covers of Spacemen 3 and Townes Van Zandt? 'Speak Daggers', though, is a different beast altogether. Made in his bedroom between tours, it's a thicker, more confidently obstinate album than its predecessor that plays more like a continuation or evolution of 'Seek Shelter'. So after a smirking fake-out with the Nyman-esque 'Intro', 'Crush the Devil's Head' busses us to Manchester via Oxford, juxtaposing its cheeky melodica moans with Rønnenfelt's best Thom Yorke impression.
'Love How It Feels' sounds like Primal Scream reimagined by Yves Tumor, all thick sampled breaks, bolshy doomsaying and clammy glam undertones. There's an era-appropriate jaunt to Jamaica on 'Not Gonna Follow' that repurposes material Rønnenfelt recorded with The Congos and I-Jahbar when he was out in Jamaica a few years ago and sounds as if it could have fallen off the notorious '...Yes Please' sessions. And on 'Mona Lisa', he uses the Bobby Byrd 'Hot Pants' break that The Stone Roses famously twinned with Mani's enduring bassline on 'Fools Gold' - Rønnenfelt's tale of heartbreak isn't quite as toothsome, but it's a good indicator of where his head's at. A duet with Erika de Casier helps bolster highlight 'Blunt Force Trauma', and Rønnenfelt's Escho bandmate Fine - whose voice graces Two Shell's 'Home' - pitches in on 'Kill Your Neighbor', tapping into the seam between Denise Johnson and Hope Sandoval.
Bongo Joe records is pleased to present La Contra Ola, a compilation recording dedicated to the early 80’s Spanish Synth Wave and Post Punk scene. First to be published outside Spain, this anthology explores the electronic music side of the independent music produced in the days in the Iberian Peninsula: Synthetic pop music with industrial sounds including futurist Art Rock, dance-floor productions and low-fi experiments on cassettes. Classics or true hidden treasures, this selection of nineteen songs is symbolic of the musical dawn that Spain experienced during the decade marked by the return of democracy and by the creative freedom initiated by Punk music.
The fantastic disco/world music project from Bremen, Germany that was never meant to be. Formed by Bremen DJ Ralf Behrendt in 1982, Saâda Bonaire was a unique concept band centered around two sultry female vocalists (Stefanie Lange and Claudia Hossfeld) as well as dozens of local musicians culled from the local immigration center. Originally signed to EMI in 1982, their first and only single, “You Could Be More As You Are” was produced by legendary Matumbi, Slits and Pop Group producer Dennis Bovell in Kraftwerk’s studio in Cologne. Its fusion of husky female vocals, Eastern instruments, dub and African music aesthetics, drum computers and synthesizers remains unique to this day.
Saâda Bonaire compiles two songs from the original EMI single along with eleven previously unreleased songs recorded between 1982 and 1985. Also included are never before published photos, in depth interviews with band members, and a full gate fold cover for dedicated vinyl buyers. These lost recordings from the early eighties still sound fresh on today’s dance floor.
A growling, distinctive set of loose-limbed, groove-fwd art rock inversions, Alpha Maid's debut album has been well worth the wait, augmenting post-punk, noise rock and free improv structures with sui generis studio fog and an unparalleled level of no-fucks-given eccentricity. RIYL Dome, Silver Apples, Moin, Klein, Mica Levi, Loop, Still House Plants.
Leisha Thomas has been working almost entirely without fanfare, imagining a sound that's part Black Dice, part Slint and part Klein. 2021's 'CHUCKLE', released on Olan Monk's c.a.n.v.a.s. label, felt sketchy, anarchic and unhinged - at the time, we compared it with Dean Blunt, This Heat, La Timpa and Slint - and 'Is this a queue' plays to Thomas's keenest instincts, darkening idiosyncratic pencil strokes with confident, intentional gestures. In a year where seemingly everyone's attempting the rock-pop pivot, Thomas refines and focuses ideas that have coursed through not just their solo work, but their spresso-branded collaborations with Mica Levi, for years. This is Thomas's record, for sure, and its quirks are only strengthened by collaborations with their wider community of like-minded operatives: Ben Vince, Coby Sey, Valentina Megaletti and Leo Hermitt. Nothing feels cheap or rattled off for clout - if there's an artist featured, you'd better know there's a damn good reason.
Opener '6-9' is irresistibly incongruous, a cheeky false start that de-platforms Thomas's signature guitar sound, fudging crusty environmental recordings and weightless drones into a modish take on Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis's subterranean rhythmic experiments. We're on more familiar territory with '2 Numbers', but what starts as a tempo-fluxing slowcore slog is coolly stirred by background whispers and plasticky stabs that sound as if they've been wrenched from Kelis's Neptunes-produced first LP. It's hard to know exactly what Manchester-based Hermitt has contributed to this one, but the track's as poppy as Thomas allows themself to get, nearing the tape-dubbed, lo-fi preciousness of last year's 'Underground Love'. Elsewhere, even when Thomas forms what might be mistaken for a song, it's inevitably deconstructed or skewered; on 'Guarded', their wailed ad libs and chants drift in-and-out of step with grumbly strums and boxy, staggered drums.
"It's been a minute," they echo thru distortion and a heaping spoonful of reverb. And by 'GOAT Rosetta' there's almost nothing left, just feedback, growling distortion and barely discernible words sung into the cavernous expanse. Even the genius 'WHY WE HAVE TO MOVE', that centres Valentina Mageletti's most Danny Taylor turn behind the kit, sounds as if it's about to fray at the edges, with its lysergic, xenharmonic guitar whirrs swamping Thomas's mumbled words and angular improvisations. They melt 'Washing Machine'-era Sonic Youth strums and boss-tuned twangs with similarly skewed AutoTuned moans on the simmering, brilliant 'On Smoke', and on the album's sobering finale 'Palimpsest', Thomas's purposed splatter of guitar noises and lurching beats fall into step with Coby Sey's alert annunciations and Ben Vince's inventive sax drones, forming a ruff outline of London's most fertile nook.
If you've been as bored by this year's "experimental" rock offerings as we have, let 'Is this a queue' restore your faith - it's that good.
Formed in Hakata before relocating to Tokyo in 1984, Akebonojirushi quickly established themselves as one of the most adventurous acts in Japan’s underground music scene. The six-piece band defied easy categorization, blending sharp-edged New Wave textures with the groove and freedom of Funk-Jazz, then distilling it all into daring, unpredictable Pop songs. Originally released in 1987 on the influential DIW label, Paradise Mambo captured the energy of a vibrant era when Japanese musicians were fearlessly expanding the boundaries of sound. Brimming with angular rhythms, infectious basslines, and a playful yet avant-garde spirit, the album remains a shining document of 80s Japanese postmodernism—both accessible and experimental, danceable yet completely uncompromising. Now reintroduced to a new generation of listeners, Paradise Mambo stands not only as a time capsule of the bubbling Tokyo music scene of the late 80s, but also as a timeless example of bold creativity. This reissue shines a spotlight on a band that deserves renewed recognition for their adventurous vision and genre-blurring artistry.
roduced and engineered by Jah Wobble at home in his bedroom (hence the title), the album was originally released in spring 1983, showing a different side in the bass player evolution. His proper 2nd album after a major label stint with Virgin - for his debut - and the stratospheric collaborations with Holger Czukay & The Edge. A mystical hybrid of dub fusion, ethereal wave and global beat, still ahead of his time.
Sleaford Mods have made an explosive return today, releasing brand new single Megaton via Rough Trade Records.
Over an arc of rolling beats and atmospheric electronics, the track is peppered with acerbic bars digging out cultural mediocrity. A union of groove and guile, Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn are ruffling feathers and moving feet with their first new release as Sleaford Mods since 2023 album UK GRIM.
Continuing the duo’s partnership with the charity War Child, all profits from Megaton will be donated to support War Child’s life-changing work with children affected by conflict.
Alongside the digital release, a seven-inch single featuring the track Give ‘Em What They Want; as its B-side, is now available for pre-order & will be released on November 7.
All profits go to War Child
The latest by iconic slowburn Australian duo HTRK is an elegant nine song suite of windswept emotion and heartbreak noir, crafted in skeletal arrangements of guitar, voice, metronomes, and FX. Inspired by a recent infatuation with “eerie and gothic country music,” Rhinestones moves from whispered lament to acoustic eulogy to downtempo vignettes, tracing muted embers of loss and lust through haunted city streets. Taking cues from the economy and brevity of western folk but skewed through a narcotic, nocturnal lens, the album maps enigmatic badlands of strung out beauty and lengthening shadows.
Nigel Yang cites friendship as a central muse, “particularly the forging of it, and its potential for new feelings of telepathy and trust.” Jonnine Standish’s wounded, alluring vocals echo similar mysteries of connection and unknown crossroads, poetic but direct, dream diaries faded with age and rain. The rhinestones of the title evoke the glittering plastic of cowboy glamor, yet “made precious somehow;” Standish cites as an example a baby blue star brooch from Texas, gifted to her “from a stoned friend on New Year’s Eve 10 years ago in Brighton – cheap keepsakes can be more valuable than diamonds.”
Even for a group as enduringly versatile as HTRK, Rhinestones is a revelation, condensing their lyrical alchemy to its simmering, magnetic essence. “Sunlight Feels Like Bee Stings,” “Reverse Déjà vu,” and “Gilbert and George” in particular are masterpieces of drama, delivery, and distillation, dried flowers clouded by smoke, the candle’s flame flickering but unforgotten: “Some things are not like the others / Some friends are not like the others / did I ever say / did I ever say / did I ever say thank you?”
SDK is the collaboration between Stano and David Kitt. Stano, a post-punk pioneer from Dublin, is known for his strikingly individual work. A recurring collaborator with All City, Going Back to the Unknown marks his first new material for the label and his return to vocal work after many years.
The project began after a chance meeting at All City led to a connection with David Kitt. In Kitt’s studio, guitars, pedals, tape delay, and synths combined to form dense, dreamlike textures. The music moves between ambient atmospheres, layered guitars, and fractured song forms. Stano’s words appear only where the music calls for them:
“I just turned the pages until the right lyric appeared — I like when the music dictates what the words should be.”
On the collaborative process, Stano adds:
“There wasn’t a conscious decision, it was just a reaction to what David was playing. It seemed to happen organically, we were really on the same wavelength. At the end of that day I knew we had something really interesting.”
The result is Going Back to the Unknown, a collection shaped as much by intuition and chance as by design. The album is completed by Kitt’s contribution “Fireworks,” which seals the record’s arc.
Originally released in 1985 on Japan Records, "Trap" marks the second solo venture from pioneering Japanese musician Chiko Hige. Delving deep into the raw energy of the No-Wave movement, Hige crafts a powerful, hypnotic sonic journey brimming with hyper-kinetic grooves, jagged guitar textures, and contorted saxophone lines. "Trap" stands as a snapshot of controlled chaos—its blend of frenetic rhythms and edgy soundscapes continues to resonate with fresh relevance, captivating new listeners and longtime fans alike. "Trap" exemplifies Chiko Hige's mastery of the Japanese No-Wave scene, offering a singular mix of experimental punk, jazz-inflected improvisation, and post-punk brutality. The album's tracks feature propulsive drum work, energetic guitar riffs, and twisted, melodic saxophone interludes, all woven into a hypnotic soundscape that feels both organic and intentionally chaotic. Chiko Hige, well-known as the drummer for Friction, explores new artistic ground in this solo effort, further establishing his role as an innovator in Japan's underground music scene. Despite its release over four decades ago, "Trap" remains a strikingly modern listen, capturing the imagination of contemporary audiences with its unbridled energy and genre-defying arrangements. The album's experimental approach continues to influence cutting-edge musicians worldwide, making "Trap" a foundational touchstone for collectors and fans of post-punk, avant-garde, and No-Wave music. For those discovering Chiko Hige today, "Trap" offers a thrilling portal into the feverish creativity and unstoppable drive of 1980s Japanese underground music.
Dance Till You Die is more than just a track title—it’s a loud and clear order, a warning, and a timeless statement from one of the most uncompromising Japanese post-punk outfits of the early 1980s. Emerging from Japan’s underground scene, Daisuck & Prostitute forged a raw yet magnetic sound that blended the abrasive edges of No Wave with an almost ritualistic sense of groove. Dance Till You Die stands as a rare testament to their uncompromising vision: esoteric and challenging, yet undeniably contagious on the dance floor. This newly unearthed gem brings sharp, jagged rhythms, dissonant textures, and a feverish punk urgency together in a way that feels both deeply of its time and eerily timeless. For No Wave obsessives, post-punk devotees, and seekers of obscure underground treasures, Dance Till You Die reaffirms the visceral spirit of a band that refused to compromise or cater to convention. With its intensity undiminished decades later, Dance Till You Die resonates as both an invitation and a provocation: keep moving until the last beat, keep resisting, and keep challenging the boundaries of sound. This release celebrates the survival of radical creativity and provides a crucial document of Japan’s contribution to the explosive worldwide post-punk movement.
Back in print ! What exactly happened in the Italian underground / post punk scene 30 years ago, is not entirely clear. Therefore, this collection of 13 incredible tunes helps track down the feeling and focuses on the blurry images of a period that was mixing influences from the UK/USA scenes with a more national' approach to new music developments. The damage began in 1977 when a series of urban / suburban musical agitators, whether skilled or complete amateurs, decided to embrace instruments as weapons for a war against sonic stereotypes. Here's the result: a multiform sonic attack that marks the history of a movement that may have remained local in most cases but whose echo reflected the amazing creativity of a generation.
At Our Best! were one of the greatest and most influential bands to emerge in the early 1980s as part of a new wave of independent acts. DJ John Peel championed them, playing their singles repeatedly and inviting them to record a session for his programme. Wry vocalist Judy Evans and brutal yet melodic guitarist James Alan who’d met at art college in Leeds fronted Girls At Our Best!, the proto-Indie band that formed from the ashes of Alan’s 1977 punk band SOS! Pleasure, the sole album, reached number two in the Indie Chart. It was an album so different from the rest of the post-punk indie pack that you can still play it now and completely baffle new listeners. As John Peel said about Roxy Music, it just doesn’t seem to relate to anything else.
There’s nothing more resonant than the human voice. It contains timbres and textures no other instrument can replicate, but most importantly, it’s immensely powerful: One voice can spark an uprising, but many voices in unison create a movement. Nya Gazelle Brown, Sabrina Cunningham, and Piya Malik, the three women who front NYC punk-chic, discodelic band Say She She, understand how to wield such power. They soar above irresistible grooves, locking together in gorgeous three-part harmonies that cleverly disguise the feeling of righteous rebellion permeating their music. Theirs is a multi-pronged call to action: Move your body, expand your mind, and recognize your strength. Say She She, whose name pays homage to Nile Rodgers, made Cut & Rewind, their third record, almost immediately after wrapping the tours supporting 2023’s Silver. The band’s trajectory has skyrocketed over the past few years, earning praise from The Guardian, the LA Times, MOJO, and NPR, and touring with Thee Sacred Souls. They have performed at venues like the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles and the Roundhouse in London, as well as festivals including Glastonbury, Austin City Limits, and Pickathon. They’ve long mined the sounds of the '70s and '80s, citing Minnie Riperton, Rotary Connection, Liquid Liquid, and ESG as influences. Cut & Rewind expands their scope, incorporating elements of Lonnie Liston Smith and the Lijadu Sisters into their sonic palette while channeling the spirit of contemporaries like Lambrini Girls and Amyl and the Sniffers. It all combines into a psychedelic soundscape of pulsing disco beats, astral whistle tones, and earwormy melodies. Over a couple of short, intense sessions, Brown, Cunningham, and Malik gathered with their rhythm section, Dan Hastie, Sam Halterman, Dale Jennings, and Sergio Rios—all members of cult funk band Orgone—at Rios’s North Hollywood studio, Killion Sound. Say She She’s writing practice is an exercise in presence, as each of the three channels their front-of-mind thoughts and feelings into cathartic transmissions. There’s an element of spontaneity at play, informed by the players’ affinity for The Meters-style jamming and the studio discipline of Booker T and The M.G.’s, as well as Malik’s time in a post-punk improv band with Liquid Liquid’s Sal Principato. “The writing room is very free,” says Brown. “We’re able to just be, and fully express ourselves.” They’d write a song and record it that day, cutting the instrumental to tape no more than three times, choosing their favorite take, and immediately laying vocals. To preserve that raw, spur-of-the-moment vibe, they stick to a hard and fast rule: “We never record anything that we can’t recreate live,” explains Malik. “It’s the same thing when the three of us are up on stage that happens in the studio.” Each of the 12 tracks on Cut & Rewind crackles with palpable energy, practically daring you to keep your head and hips still. The cosmic boogie of “Chapters” ripples out into the ether, while the no-wave throb of “Shop Boy” glides like rollerskates through a warehouse loft. The silky “Under the Sun,” written in solidarity with the 2023 Writers Guild of America strikes, shines like a sun flare in a camera lens. The three vocalists deftly weave around each other, sometimes creating an interlocking rhythmic lattice (part of a technique they’ve dubbed the “Say She She sigh”), sometimes coalescing in a heavenly triad. But a politically charged undercurrent buzzes beneath the lush, strobing sonics, giving these jams an added heft. In a time of political turmoil where community is more necessary than ever, Say She She offers a particular salve: protest music dressed up as a sweat-dripping, body-moving, consciousness-raising good time. “She Who Dares” is a simmering slice of psych-funk that imagines a near-future dystopia wherein women’s rights have been decimated globally. The group started writing the piece as a way to exorcize a notably insulting male interaction, but it morphed into a more universal, fist-raised anthem. It starts with Cunningham’s voice filtered through a megaphone, explaining how hundreds of thousands of women have suddenly been imprisoned across the world. “It feels scary, setting a Handmaid’s Tale tone,” explains Cunningham, “but ultimately, it’s meant to be empowering for other women.” The song doesn’t linger in fear; instead, it seizes and becomes that megaphone, issuing a chant of encouragement to keep up the good fight. Early album highlight “Disco Life,” whose unbreakable beat and shimmying tambourine live up to the name, is one of Cut & Rewind’s most overtly political cuts. It examines the 1979 “Disco Demolition Night” at Comiskey Stadium in Chicago, a publicity event-turned-riot organized by shock jock Steve Dahl. Attendees were encouraged to bring a disco record in exchange for cheap admission, which Dahl would then burn in a dumpster—already an implicit attack on a genre fronted by Black people, queer people, and women—but the crowd brought and destroyed anything made by Black musicians. The lyrics decry the event’s racism and homophobia, understanding that the roots of the riot still linger. Say She She knows a better world is possible, and uses “Disco Life” to manifest “a playing field where all are free.” Cut & Rewind is Say She She at their most vital, both outside of time and profoundly of the now. It urges us to stay present and attentive to the challenges we must endure, but offers a way to recharge our collective battery. It’s a shimmering, celebratory epic, equally suited for the dancefloor and the demonstration.