[engl] Less than a year after their debut LP 'Qualm', Berlin's best dressed are back with a new line up and a new EP. I was thinking about the best way to describe this one and then it hit me. Some of you reading this are probably familiar with the feeling that comes in the days after that weekend when you decided to stay up for 48 hours, well that is accurately condensed and presented to you over the course of these four new songs. Paranoia? Check. Feelings of hopelessness? Check. The need to get the hell out of that sunlight? Check. The sudden sound of a saxophone? Check. This has surpassed the lazy post-anarcho punk comparisons. It's streamlined, superior and ready for you to feel both the serotonin overdose and severe lack of, all in the space of ten minutes. The record is limited to 500 copies on beautiful, bold and black vinyl presented in a pocket sleeve and insert with artwork from bassist Raquel Torre.

[engl] Featuring members of Clock Of Time, Exit Group, Cage Kicker, Idiota Civlizzatto, Lacquer and more. This is the debut LP from Berlin's GLAAS. "A gang of stylish demons discover a wild animal pacing around a Berlin cellar, wearing only a hawaiian shirt and someone else’s blood. He doesn’t know what day it is, just that he went to a party several months ago and hasn’t been to sleep since. They lovingly rescue and rehouse the wretched creature in a glaas box where he’s content to howl his paranoid chants all day for their entertainment and now ours. This debut lays out a mangled inventory of fractured memories, haunted visions of broken people and places making a sacred ritual out of ruining themselves. These are hymns to so many nights gone so far wrong, from the graveyard sex to the extra bump you might have resisted had the urge to feel something not overtaken you… Employing an elevated and reinvigorated version of the ‘modern post punk with anarcho flourishes’ mode, with whirring synthesisers and creepy keys signpost into even more disorienting territory, GLAAS create a creepy and compelling soundtrack to the romantic nihilism of urban decay: disturbing lifestyle choices but make it sexy." - Bryony Beynon