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“IV Of Cups” by Thought Leadership is a sinking, immersive work built on heavy layers of guitar and deep 808 bass, where the shadows of post‑punk intersect with the soft, hazy glow of dream‑pop.
Lena Willikens X Elena Colombi live at Lux Fragil, Lisbon 2026 Cover art + design by Alicia Carrera Mastered by Lottie Lou Poulet at Wysyng Arts Centre Manufactured at Tapeline, UK Limited edition cassette tape NO repress 💚 Once they're gone they're gone...
Taco weaponise the very idea of “tako” - octopus, kite, bunion, drunk, bald head - into a mutating post‑punk organism, a rotating guerrilla cell whose songs behave like incidents rather than compositions. “Tako” is one of those Japanese words that refuses to sit still. It can mean octopus, kite, bunion; it’s also slang for bald men, shaved heads, red‑faced drunks staggering home. The term slips between bodies, objects and insults, picking up grime and humour as it goes. In the early 1980s it became something else again: the name of a loose music and performance collective whose shows felt less like concerts than controlled disturbances. Taco emerged at the start of the decade as part of Japan’s post‑punk alternative wave, a shifting network of players orbiting Harumi Yamazaki, ex‑member of Gaseneta and the group’s volatile core. Around her gathered friends, acquaintances and fellow travellers from the Tokyo underground, forming a band that refused fixed membership, fixed genre, fixed anything. From the outset, Taco behaved more like a guerrilla unit than a conventional group. Personnel connected, collected, interrupted, scattered; line‑ups changed from gig to gig, and sometimes from piece to piece. Sound and image were treated as transient weapons to be deployed and discarded. Performances could happen with or without Harumi - reinforcing the sense that Taco was as much an anonymous mercenary outfit as it was a band, a name that could mask any number of combinations and intentions. What remained constant was the drive to send out music and noise that felt like it existed only for that night, that room, that confrontation, and then evaporated. In 1983 Taco released its first album, an anomalous, collaborative document that detonated across Japan’s underground as something both of and against its moment. The record functioned as a kind of local all‑stars compilation: key figures from the scene dropping in to contribute, while Harumi supplied the lyrics that stitched the whole together. Each track sounded like the reverberation of a particular cluster of people and circumstances - a conglomeration of voices, instruments, mistakes and impulses. Yet running through all of them were Harumi’s words, delivered with a force that turned scattered pieces into a single, bristling wave. The album didn’t simply collect songs; it spawned an “incident,” a disturbance that spread by word of mouth, tape dub and rumour. Then, as suddenly, it was pulled back: a separate scandal over some of the lyrics led to the records being recalled, ensuring that only a small number of copies ever made it into private hands. A second release followed in 1984: a 12" EP built around a live recording from the end of 1982. If the debut was a collage of sessions and personalities, this document caught Taco as a unit on stage, and what it revealed was an unexpectedly coherent musical engine beneath the chaos. For a band of indeterminate membership that specialised in one‑off performances, the playing here feels locked in without being smoothed out - grooves, fractures and eruptions held in tense balance. The record captures the power of Taco’s legendary live shows, but it’s Harumi Yamazaki’s presence that sears itself into memory: inflammatory, sensational, masochistic. Her muttered phrases and sudden screams ride over, and often wilfully against, the beat, treating rhythm as something to be taunted rather than obeyed. The effect is of a voice confronting the audience like a groundswell, an undertow that doesn’t care whether or not you keep your footing. One of Taco’s members once described the project as “an alternative counter organization”: a setup in which indeterminate participants fan each other’s heightened desires for personal revenge and retribution. In their words, Taco is “an ecosystem of tangible and intangible mouldy slime which accumulates in order for emotions to be acted out, both indoors in the studio, or outdoors on stage. That’s why the avenger can often end up being the victim.” It’s a metaphor that fits the music: thick, unstable, mutating, made from residues and leftovers as much as from polished ideas. Emotions congeal, are performed, and then rebound on those who unleashed them. The “alternative counter organization” is not a party or a platform; it’s a fragile, dangerous zone where sound becomes a way to test how far you can go before your own force turns back on you. The Alternative Counter Organization brings this history into focus not by tidying it up, but by acknowledging Taco’s refusal to be pinned down. It honours a group whose performances really were “like nothing before or since,” born from a word that already meant too many things and happy to add a few more.
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.
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.
“All possible processes. All channels open. Twenty-four hour alert." This Heat’s eponymous debut album, also known by fans as the 'blue and yellow', is a masterpiece of experimentation. This Heat's exploratory practice was based on extended collective improvisation that incorporated not just guitar and drums, but also viola, melodica, organ, household objects, and broken toys. They used tape machines to stretch the fabric of time and creative mic placement to warp space. They were fuelled not just by formal restlessness but also by rage at consumer society. Although widely considered to be Post-Punk’s finest, This Heat had actually begun performing at the start of London’s punk era. They developed new strange and volatile strains of avant-garde music that time has proved to be hugely influential, a blueprint for much that would follow. Featuring material recorded as early as their first public performance on 13th February 1976 and compositions that appear on the 1977 BBC Peel Sessions, their debut album was finally released in 1979.
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.
Through the dense blend of Japanese New-Wave, between moldy kimonos and punctured paper screens, along the rails of a sonic bullet train, this mini-LP reaches us, overflowing with purebred Punk-Funk, splinters of Soul and shredded Jazz. A gold nugget in a sea of sadness. Scattered energy trapped in a handful of vinyl grooves.
10 songs from No You - the debut, self-titled LP by Davy Kehoe (Wah Wah Wino, IE) and Diego Herrera (Suzanne Kraft, US). Sharing both vocal and instrumentation duties, D & D venture somewhat off of their respective musical paths - with the collab throwing up a big, small-studio sound. They are maybe at their most melodic on ‘Baby’ where their voices play off each other over bent feedback and crunching drum machine. There’s a real low slung swagger to ‘So Far Gone’ and ‘Miracle Mile’ met with a blown out and blasted approach on songs such as ‘Invisible’ and ‘Side Effect’. The song ‘Put Up A Dream’ exhibits the duo’s more unhinged side.
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.
Originally released in 1981, this is MIZUTAMA SHŌBŌDAN’s legendary debut album. A wild theatrical mix of avant-post-punk material worked out by one of the most uncompromising women’s brigades ever. An outstanding document from “another” Japan! MIZUTAMA SHŌBŌDAN were a force of nature – powerful and original and unapologetic. I saw them live before I heard the first record and was very impressed. I liked the way the group interacted, it was a very good atmosphere between everybody. I really liked the contrasting sounds and styles of Kamura and Tenko, two very different kinds of voices that really worked well together.
‘Fred Frith’
CONTAINS PRINTED INNER SLEEVE AND 4-PAGE FOLD-OUT INSERT
Duori is an imaginary word. It combines the ideas “dentro” (inside) and “fuori (outside) invoking a place between. Heith and Tarawangsawelas met in Bandung in 2017, since then their collaboration has been evolving, both in person and remotely. The result is ‘Duori’ an album of 5th world music in low data mode that travelled inside lost and found portable recorders, on defunct hard drives and expired e-sim cards. Recording and arranging songs over a long period of time and across a vast geographical distance has lent their practice a distinct character. This distance allows the possibility to see things from different perspectives and creates music that hovers both inside the Sundanese Land, and outside of it, both on the European continent and not. This record carries compositions from one side of the globe to the other, catching spirits and energies from different places, societies and rituals. Their first sketches were influenced while witnessing the Reak ceremonies in Bandung and they were recorded at Tesla Manaf (Kuntari) studio in Bandung. They found inspiration on nights spent at the jaipong clubs, smoking cigarettes and talking about ghosts. The songs then developed while on tours around Europe, playing separately and together. Their song titles are in Indonesian, Italian and English, underling the linguistic shapeshifting of the project, and showing how any linguistic barrier was surpassed by a strong spiritual connection between them as artists. This record is also the story of a friendship, a spiritual bond that goes beyond the differences in their backgrounds and practices. A bond that redefines geographies and creates new psycho-geographies.
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.
A collection of tracks from the iconic bassist, producer and composer Jah Wobble (P.I.L.) that are from the early 12" singles he released between '83 and '86 on his own LAGO record label.
Another cassette-only mixtape taking in Soviet punk selections, 1985 to 1992, issued in partnership with Philadelphia's World Gone Mad.
A special cassette-only Halloween drop in the form of part one of a two-part Japanese post-punk, goth & new wave mixtape, the first in a tranche of globally-focused mixes reissued in partnership with Philadelphia’s punk archivists World Gone Mad.
Introducing Luka Lickshot aka Luke Palmer aka the Wolverhampton Wolverine, reggae DJ and genre warping producer of all things low end inclined. In previous incarnations Luke has released hypnagogic house for labels such as Workshop and Third Ear, but with his debut LP release ‘Shots Fired’ he takes a sharp turn into the leftfield. Sonically triangulating early 80s Manc post punk existentialism, 90s darkside trip hop and UK (On-U) sound system culture, the result is something like a more ruffneck Massive Attack jamming with Dome in the Black Ark. ‘Shots Fired’ was forged in an underground Peckham hideout, under strict parameters of time and space, fusing conventional instrumentation with digi know-how, improvised vocals, one take licks and dub fx. Pretty much impossible to pigeonhole the ten tracks but adjacent to / resonant with Giulio Erasmus, DJ Marcelle, Tricky, ‘Hex’….
Formed in Louisville and forged as a New York–based collective, Circle X were never interested in fitting neatly into scenes or categories. Active between the late 1970s and mid-1990s, they operated with a deliberate refusal of convention, even down to a name that resisted easy transcription.
Prehistory, their debut album, distils that ethos into a dense, physical listening experience. Built from jagged rhythms, looping structures, and a tense balance between raw instinct and considered design, the record stretches the idea of post-punk far beyond stylistic boundaries. The music moves with a damaged, dance-driven momentum, feeling both ritualistic and mechanical, immediate and abstract.
Developed alongside the group’s performance art ideas, the album emerged from experimental recording methods that predated digital sampling: layered tape loops, re-amplified sounds, and textures pushed until their sources dissolved into something new. Influences were equally unorthodox, shaped as much by non-Western orchestration and voice as by the downtown New York underground.
Decades on, Prehistory remains strikingly resistant to nostalgia. Its dark logic and exploratory spirit still confront the listener head-on, sounding no closer to any single moment than it did at the start.
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.