5 Tewns Vol.12

Read Time: 3 mins

Oh my god, we’re I’m back again, and it’s been an absolutely beautiful week here in Northern Portugal. I won’t bore you with more stuff about mountains, forests and rivers. Here’s my 5 tewns for this week…

Froid Dub – The Murderer [Delodio]

Taken from 2021’s brilliantly descriptive “An iceberg crusing the Jamaican coastline”. The Murderer opens with a threatening whisper: “There are many times, when all I can think about, is murdering someone.” A sentiment, I think, we can all quietly agree with, before the track descends into clinical Casio-dub of the highest order — bubbling bass, electric snares, and the ghosts of slide guitars. Heady stuff.

On a side note: I completely missed the record at the time, being skint and probably deep in one of my “fuck records, I’m buying tapes and CDs” phases. I tried to track it down the other day, only to find a reputable Berlin record shop — one I dislike immensely — flogging it for an extortionate amount. Let the filthy capitalist bastards eat their own scene. I’ll stick to my digital copy for now.

Death In Vegas – Death Mask [Drone]

I’ve been banging out this deeply melancholic, fractured acid track all bloody week. It’s built around a clattering rhythm: a giant kick at the top of each bar, sixteenths on the hats, looming drones and pitched, nervous arpeggios that long for a future already past. Electronic soul at its apex — a reminder of what man and machine can achieve together.

If the singularity sounded like this, I’d be on board quicker than you could say “Peter Thiel is a lizard.”

SCHWUND – Aus Platzgründen [Mangel]

Surprise surprise (Cilla Black): Berlin’s excellent Mangel Records have made it into this fanboy’s weekly list yet again — this time with this acid-dipped-synth-punk-wave-whatever wonder from SCHWUND’s latest offering, “Lebendige Lügengebäude” (“Living Structure of Lies”).

The Bug – Duppied (Brixton Rec) [Pressure]

Oh my giddy giddy gosh! Another one from the now-fully-released Bug vs Ghost Dubs album, and this one’s an absolute chest-rattler. It takes me straight back to the late ’90s, Cowley Road Community Centre dub nights — that serpentine bassline tearing the floor apart while duppy ghosts hang in the air, drowning in a sea of smoke and reverb.

Scott Walker – Rosemary

I’ve been obsessing over Scott Walker’s back catalogue this week, especially Rosemary. As a devoted fanboy, it’s all too easy to gush, but beyond his spectral voice, few — if any — can write lyrics as haunting as:

“She hears the boats as they move down the river,
She sees a dog straining hard on his leash to get away,
She hears the clock and it strikes like a hammer,
Pounding the nails one day further in the coffin of her youth”

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