Review: Attraktors originally surfaced back in 2015 with the Future Systems EP. Made up of members of Six.By.Seven, Bivouac, The Selecter and more besides. Now this eclectic group of coldwave connoisseurs fold that initial EP into a raft of new songs to make up a sterling debut album for Vivod. It's brittle, homespun stuff that opens up a wormhole to the bedroom studio explosion of the 1980s, when lo-fi new wave was king. But there are other dimensions to this record, like the dreamy synth pop of "Mensonge Et La Chute" and the cosmic rock stylings of "Theme From Unknown". For all lovers of the early to mid '80s era, this is an album you won't want to miss.
Review: Having originally surfaced on Creme Organization back in 2002, Luke Eargoggle and Ronnie Johansson's Monkeyshop project is an intermittent treat that offers the best of warm synth-led electronic disco. On their second outing for Ali Renault's Vivod label (after the excellent Escape From The Mental Zoo EP in 2014) the pair bring yet more of that addictive, utopian dance magic on this new record. "Island Of Love" is indeed a romantic club burner with smatterings of vintage synth pop in its bones, while "Heartbreak" takes a more overtly Italo direction and sounds just as strong with it. Obergman then takes "Island Of Love" to task with a respectful remix that shines a few different synth lines and beat patterns through the same fuzzy prism.
Review: Ali Renault's Vivod label continues to bring the goods, as recent missives from Skatebard and Monkeyshop (their first release of any sort for 11 years) emphatically prove. The imprint's latest release comes from newcomer Paul Withey, who follows up a fine contribution to a recent split E.O on Ruby Hills & Diamond Mountain, with a debut solo E.P of his own. The five tracks featured are nicely varied stylistically, but all boast the distinctive shimmer of analogue synthesizers and dusty drum machines. Highlights include the surging Italo-disco revivalism of "Pallas", cheerily positive synth-pop flex of "Yes Master", and the curious, Radiophonic Workshop style weirdness of "Beneath the Surface".