Vampyre Villa

by Zach Pliska

Vampyre Villa by Zach Pliska (Vazum)
My band Vazum‘s new album Vampyre Villa has a variety of moods and styles which people have picked up on. It floats between deathrock, shoegaze, goth, and post-punk which is why we call ourselves a deathgaze band. We’re interested in combining the rawness of deathrock with the depth of shoegaze.

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Remastering the Sound of Goth

by Matt Vowles

Black Angel: Remastering the Sound of Goth by Matt Vowles
We are the goth rockers, Black Angel, from Los Angeles (even though I hail from 80’s England) and have just released an extended version of our debut album “The Widow.” Initially released in October 2019, some may think this is a little quick for an extended version. But while the first version was awesome, something wasn’t quite right.

It was mastered for the “headphone and streaming” generation, and it just didn’t have the bollocks it needed for a Goth/Post-punk album – not the ones I grew up listening to. I should have gone with my gut, I shouldn’t have catered to this popular way of mastering songs, should have stuck to my guns. So now I’m doing it again. And I couldn’t just re-release it, so we thought let’s just make it longer and more impressive, so fans have a reason to want it.

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In the Beginning, Musical Influences, and More…

by Scarlet Smith

Unknown Pleasures Limited: In the Beginning, Musical Influences, and More... by Scarlet Smith

Growing up as a Tempe child but switching places in the outskirts of SoCal or forced to go to church every Sunday, took its toll. I found myself at darker times and darker places of wanting to let go.

I may have seemed happy to some, but I wasn’t… I felt trapped and I didn’t like any of it. And it didn’t help that I had an attention problem or that I kept falling ill…

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Music as Magick. Magick as Music

by Dusty Santamaria

Music as Magick. Magick as Music. by Dusty Santamaria
The Sun looked like a prison break. I woke up in a suburb of Seattle and stared drowsily out of a stranger’s bedroom window. My wife was talking to an admirer of hers around the scattered ashes of a campfire from the night before. There was a mysterious text message from an unknown number on the blue screen of a broken iPhone. It was clear that the veils to what folks call the spirit world were perceptibly thin. Little hints of future memory flickered with mischievous honesty through the cracked wallpaper in the shadows of the room.

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