Saturday, May 5, 2012

Crazy Holiday.

BS-034 Gary Wrong - Mayhem Troopers/Heroin Beach 7"

A year ago a mossy, mucous glazed meteor crashed into the Alabama Swamp Land. Cracked from the pressure of impact, a mutant emerged from wet steam betwixt the crevass of space rock. Armed with a laserwhip and cruising on a Motorgator (a vehicle forged from a discarded motorcycle and an alligator carcass), the alien fiend made haste in his pursuit to conquer this unkind planet. He found Earth's native women useful for impregnating with a new species of warrior to further his conquest. The gestation time took mere seconds and it wasn't long before he had formed an army built for mayhem. Before setting out on his violent mission, the fierce leader created a studio vessel for recording hymns to motivate his suicide squadron into battle. Few knew of his passion for song and those who listened fell into a trance. Together with his Troops of Sons (daughters were eaten or became slaves as they proved unfit for battle) he quickly established an iron fist.

Available for the first time are the songs that led the fateful death march on our cold planet.



-Edition of 300 copies in handmade tri-fold covers-
100 on Molten Rock (Mail Order Exclusive)/100 on Innerstellar Smoke/100 on Space Placenta (Japan Exclusive)

Each record is housed in 13 different tri-fold covers featuring scenes from the great conquest.
25 special covers were made for Horrible Fest and feature additional gruesome images and packaging. They can only be received upon joining the Gary Wrong Army at the Horrible Festival.


Listen to "Heroin Beach" here :

Listen to the cover of Cortex's "Mayhem Troopers" here:




Final press of the stunning debut album by The Netherlands own, Dead Neanderthals.


-Final edition of 110 copies in hand made sleeves-
110 on Ghoul Green


Live "Cubic Aesthetics" rehearsal:

Feel like hearing the whole album? Go for it.


BS-026 Dead Neanderthals - The V-Shaped Position 7"

Pick up your guts and continue running. The creeps are still after you. The piss stained alley you've poorly decided to duck into will not shelter you from their hunger. They are upon you, ooga-ing and booga-ing, scraping their knuckles on the concrete just steps behind you. It's useless to avoid these Paleolithic Thugs.
You can only overcome them by becoming one of them. Allow them to consume you. Allow them to cradle you between their few rotted teeth, yellow gums and sore covered tongues. Listen to the sounds of your dumb bones and weak flesh as they are ground together into a fine sniffing powder. Whoops, it looks like your skin was streched tight and is being bashed on by the elbow end of your own dismembered arms. One of them even made a primitive woodwind out of your spine.


-Edition of 200 copies in hand printed covers w/poster insert-
100 on Bone White/100 on Spleen Green


Watch a promo video for the track "Asterisk" Here:

Wanna listen to the whole fucking album? I don't mind.


BS-020 SUNFLARE - Ghetto Blast LP

Now you've really done it. You're a political prisoner. Probably because your hippie brains decided to tell the wrong somebody else how to run their country, man. Your face has been masked with a hood that has the familiar stench of gasoline. You can't see a thing. Your body is hot and moist. Your skin is itching, but because your hands are tied there's not a damn thing you can do about it. You feel a damp sponge applied to parts of your body and you hear a current. Somewhere a needle drops. Voltage flushes through your body. Your arms and legs go numb. Your teeth clench and your neck expands. The smell of your fingernails finds it's way under your hood. Your hood catches fire. Your face is burning and your eyes dissolve into something not unlike crushed ping pong balls. Suddenly extinguished, your head is submerged into an icy vat. Once removed you open your mouth and struggle for breathe, you're submerged once again and your lungs are filled with a strange thick liquid. Somewhere a needle drops. Before your body collapses in on itself your head is pulled back and tied against a wooden post facing the sun. Your legs are bound and you hear an engine start. As you pick up speed, folds of skin peel from your back across the desert floor. Though your eyes cannot visualize, you feel the heat through your sockets and see only white.


-Edition of 300 -
100 Sky High/200 Blind Black


Audio/Visual of Portugal's finest:


PURCHASE <-------------------------------------


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