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Nuremberg, Germany. Angry, noisy, uncomfortable, yet hopefully still danceable. Maybe Industrial. All done diy, all music Creative Commons. Contact ph4nt. Streaming and Download help. Report this album or account. MIX Tape Vol. A Monition by The Great Destroyer. Dissonant, yet densely and powerful produced diy Industrial Rock with an antifascist angle - from thuringia! Came for the NINfluences, styed for its uniqueness. If you like ph4nt. The Sound of Stone by Maro Kariya. Experimental electronic soundscapes steeped in dystopian themes; environmental and societal anxieties vented through industrial and techno. Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp. Get fresh music recommendations delivered to your inbox every Friday. You can review the changes here. Lavinie Cloutier. Bri Crick. Dave Sewall. Erik Talvola. Pinhead Coffins. Smug Dog. Daniel Mendoza. Richard Richard. Rat Noir. Hara Red. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app. Purchasable with gift card. Buy Digital Album name your price Send as Gift. As these are handcrafted from remnants of other eras of capitalism like music cassettes and graph paper, they are obviously limited. Wellen Zu Befehl! Heute gibt es kaum noch Kinder, denen ich die Zukunft stehl. Monster Schlamm Mantra Nein, wir haben keine Zeit mehr! Weiter so! Skandier'n die Patrioten, und steuern in den Abgrund wie Kamikazepiloten Anders wo! Keine Zeit! Wir haben keine Zeit mehr, Nein wir haben keine Zeit mehr! Rauch Die Luft schmeckt komisch, riechst Du's auch? Es liegt mir auf der Zunge doch ich komm nicht drauf Ist das Asche, ist das Rauch? Es brennt mir auf der Zunge, sag brennst Du auch? Der Wald glimmt komisch, siehst Du's auch? Es liegt mir vor Augen doch ich komm nicht drauf Sind das Flammen, ist das Rauch? Die Welt brennt, sag brennst Du auch? Bunsenbrenner Oder sonst etwas zu trinken? PJ feat. Champagner Bitte Woher nehmen, wenn nicht stehlen? Verloren Wozu brauchen wir Gnade? Der ist wohl unbelehrbar! Spielt nicht die kleinste Rolle - Du hast einfach schon verlor'n. Sirenen Schwere Stiefel Nevertheless, action is taken hesitantly or not at all, destruction and exploitation remain the status quo, and the automobile continues to be the cherished cash cow of the Germans. Business as usual is the modus operandi, and resistance is increasingly fiercely criminalized. Heat-related deaths become as commonplace as formerly traffic fatalities, and many people in Franconia learn the meaning of the word 'hunger. The portion of the population that can still pretend that everything is in perfect order dwindles daily. Nonetheless, capitalism successfully clings to its throne. More and more people in Germany live in precarious conditions. The system is increasingly faltering but still vehemently opposes resistors and those who seek their happiness in non-capitalist ways of life. The migration movement, which has long arrived in the wealthier countries of Europe, now moves further north towards Scandinavia. In fact, ph4nt. The issue of climate change and how one can become or remain politically active is something that ph4nt. The fact that ph4nt. In this regard, , as is customary for ph4nt. Who knows if we can still avert the catastrophe, but we have no better option than to die trying! That may not be the most positive incentive, but with the daily traffic jams and the disproportionate repression that brave activists constantly face, ph4nt. Moreover, the music that awaits the listener on cries out for dramatic narratives: The sonic landscapes are dominated by nasty, punchy industrial beats, this time complemented by mostly harsh power chord riffs from ph4nt. Although ph4nt. Additionally, with longtime friend and collaborator Jakkl of Leiden and Die false Jacke, ph4nt. Recording and editing were once again done with the wonderful free DAW Ardour. As you may have noticed, both this album and the Mantra-Singlerelease contain awesome remixes! If you like to have some stems, just write me. Maybe there'll be some Remix-EP next year ; Many thanks to my long-term supporter Basti of nasserecords. For further reading, you can find my entries for 'what if? Tags electronic anarchist anti-capitalist cyberpunk diy dystopian eco electro-industrial industrial punk industrial rock queer sci-fi synth punk Nuremberg. Shopping cart. On Bandcamp Radio. Oklahoma City's Jabee stops by to talk about his latest release.

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Text by Hanne Lippard. Because I was. People always ask you this type of questions when they want the conversation to take a U-turn. But I was a fearful child. And that leads to several thoughts, now that I am an adult: 1. Life IS scary. You fear what you love or: when you love, you fear. Ghosts are real? I had a gift? What about that boy in The Sixth Sense? XX thinking about the question for a longer while than expected taking a deep breath although the air in here is pretty bad something I will not realise before I step outside and think about how bad the air was indoors. We live to learn by comparisons. Or do we learn to live by comparisons? Only the quality of air can make us tell us the difference. I was not fearful child, but rather a naive child, which is a kinder way of stating that the child lacks a sense of reality. Summers in Norway were often nothing but light and so during that period there was no darkness to fear. My parents forcefully pulled down the blinds at 8 p. I spent so much of my childhood in boredom, too much. What entertainment do you like? What tasks do you not like? XX I too grew up without darkness. Our town was surrounded by greenhouses that were lit up at night so that tomatoes and cucumbers could continue to grow around the clock. The light put a peach coloured veil onto the clouds I could see from my bedroom window. These never ending days made the animals go bananas, I only found out about that much later. We all did. Back in the eighties no one cared for fauna. With that sense of your life not fully belonging to you yet. There are few tasks I enjoy. I like calling my mother, which is a task to most people but not to me. I enjoy filling my jars with coffee, right after I bought it. To whom do you compare yourself most often? Do you betray your younger self when you do? Or is it strange to think of your childhood self as a different person? Half of the fun is his failed attempt to speak with the shrill voice of an empirical Queen. So that brings me back to your questions on comparison. I compare myself a lot with people I do not know because it is so much easier, when I know the inside and outside of someone else I find there is little left to compare oneself with, a bit like buying second-hand shoes worn by someone else and completely not fitting with your own path. The strangest thing is that you never leave he or she behind because it is basically just an inflated version of yourself, or at least one is led to believe so. Do you see those kids travelling alone on big transitional airports? Do you see yourself in those kids? Or do you just make a mad run for the final call of a long-distance flight Schiphol? Charles De Gaulle? I just remember the run and the gate number: 32 Why are so many of my memories lacking location and condensed down to nothing but movement and numbers? The older you get the more you forget Rhymes! The older you get the more you bulge out on the sides No rhyme just a sad fact. Nanana, anana, pine, apple, pain, pear. XX Speaking of sad news: I no longer enjoy coffee. Something happened to my taste buds. They were either put to sleep by something or awakened. I cannot be sure. Suddenly I taste so much more candy or so much less coffee. Could this be ageing, I wonder, but then again, I wonder that so often. Do I have to accept my morning headaches? Is that part of my future? What about the grogginess? Should I fix it? Can it be fixed? Getting older is like driving a car that slowly falls apart and you, the driver, has to decide whether these changes are part of the charm or not. Ugh no, I should stop trying to schlep this metaphor into something that makes sense. Call it a character flaw. XX Deary Dear, you know I love them metaphors. It is especially popular in Norway where there are a lot of variations on wind down the coastline, on a daily basis. Can mother nature take hold of us for life, like a mother tongue does? Will we ever leave our childhood where it belongs, in the photo albums? I guess the wind has also brought me places, wonderful places with wonderful wonders, wonders I could never even have asked for in the first place, the place I was once born, pushing myself through two legs only to arrive with my head first. I just landed, my luggage is delayed so I will have to go home empty-handed. The weather was better at my point of departure, less wind I would say. How do you handle love as a grown up in comparison to when you were a child? I know, big question BIG! I cannot imagine anything worse happening to a tongue. If I could keep the taste of coffee in my mouth forever I would. Was there any other way? I loved my mother way too much I would say. I still do. I loved the idea of love even more than I loved my mother. And yes, I still do. I mean, I want to learn. One thing I have learnt is not to overthink it. Love, and more generally speaking: everything else. Everyone always told me to take things more lightly, but no one ever told me adult life would come with so many thoughts and responsibilities, with so much life, there would simply not be any time to overthink things. Overthinking things is a luxury! One that belongs to the young, like so many luxuries. Do you, in any respect, fear your lover? I mean actual fear. XX At times I fear the word lover in itself. The word lover implies love as an act. The act of love as a term describing an act, is in itself a lot to live up to, and perhaps sometimes you just want to get close to someone without making it an act, but rather a slump, a coincidence, like in fact how it all started out in the first place. All through a finely composed set of coincidences. Unless our lives are scripted. But I think we know this by now, dear ghost, that such a speculation is not even close to the truth. Sind Geister echt? Hatte ich eine Gabe? Wie war das mit dem Jungen in The Sixth Sense? Wir leben, um durch Vergleiche zu lernen. Oder lernen wir durch Vergleiche zu leben? Ich verbrachte so viel Zeit meiner Kindheit in Langeweile, zu viel. Heutzutage kann ich mich gar nicht mehr erinnern, wann es mir zuletzt an Unterhaltung oder Aufgaben fehlte. XX Ich wuchs ebenfalls ohne Dunkelheit auf. Das Licht schien pfirsichfarben auf die Wolken, die ich von meinem Schlafzimmerfenster aus sehen konnte. Wir alle. Erinnerst du dich? Nicht wahr? Ich kaufe gern Blumen, aber auch hier, wer tut das schon nicht? Mit wem vergleichst du dich am meisten? Erkennst du dich in ihnen wieder? Ich kann mich nur ans Rennen erinnern und an die Nummer des Gates: 32 Wieso fehlt es so vielen Erinnerungen an Verortung, wieso sind sie einfach nur auf Bewegung und Nummern reduziert? The older you get the more you forget Reimt sich! Irgendetwas ist mit meinen Geschmacksnerven passiert. Entweder wurden sie schlafen gelegt oder zum Leben erweckt. Kann ich nicht genau sagen. Hat das etwas mit dem Altern zu tun, frage ich mich, aber das frage ich mich ja so oft. Muss ich meine morgendlichen Kopfschmerzen akzeptieren? Sind sie Teil meiner Zukunft? Was ist mit dem groggy-Sein? Soll ich da was machen? Kann man da was machen? Ich mag echt keine Ananas. Bleibt uns Mutter Natur unser ganzes Leben lang erhalten, wie eine Muttersprache? Wie geht man als Erwachsener mit Liebe um, im Vergleich zum Kind? XX Als ich Kind war, liebt ich aus der Distanz. Aber taten wir das nicht alle? Geht es irgendwie anders? Tu ich immer noch. Mehr als meine Mutter habe ich die Idee der Liebe geliebt. Ich bin aber dabei, es zu lernen. Jedenfalls will ich es lernen. Das ist ein Luxus! Dem Jungsein vorenthalten, wie so viel anderer Luxus. Ich meine wahre Furcht. Das Wort impliziert Liebe als Akt. Zwei Seelen, die sich im gleichen Zusammenfall zufallen, feststellen, dass sie sich verstehen und weiter zusammen reisen, der Existenz des anderen bewusst, vielleicht sogar angeregt von ihr. Es sei denn, unsere Leben sind vorgeschrieben. Subscribe to Newsletter.

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