Back catalogue: Coldwave/Synth

Review: Amongst minimal wave and alternative synth-pop enthusiasts, short-lived London band Shoc Corridor has an excellent reputation. Although they released a pair of albums and a gaggle of singles in 1983 and '84, it is '82 debut single A Blind Sign that gets collectors drooling. On this Dark Entries reissue, it's easy to see why. Flipside cut "Sargasso Sea", a fantastically spaced-out combination of heavily dub influenced post-punk bass, minimalist drum machine hits and liquid electronics, is particularly special, while "On Reflection" is a fine slab of swooning, near Balearic electronica. The title track, a Gary Numan-esque chunk of mutant synth-pop that bizarrely includes some jangly acoustic guitars amongst the arpeggio bass and twittering synthesizer melodies, is also inspired.

Review: By Italo-disco standards, where artists often got one-shot at glory, Some Bizarre was relatively successful. The studio duo released three 12" singles, with 1983 debut Don't Be Afraid being most coveted by Italo-disco collectors. Here it gets a timely reissue from Dark Entries. The original vocal version actually still stands up well, sounding a little like a quirky European tribute to early Depeche Mode, with a little Visage thrown in. The drum machine handclap-heavy percussion and Yazzoo-style synth riffs make it more potent than some Italo-disco of the period, and the vocal is much stronger - and less heavily accented - than many Italian records of the period. As usual, it's accompanied by a dub-style Instrumental on the flip.

Review: Dark Entries picks up Severed Heads yet again for Ear Bitten, a double LP reissue of some of the band's earliest material. Pegged as early pushers of the Australian underground industrial scene, Severed Heads emerged in the wake of a former project also shared between three members, Tom Ellard, Richard Fielding and Andrew Wright: Mr. And Mrs. No Smoking Sign. The edgier name Severed Heads was also, conveniently, snappier, and the sonic result of this resignal act would soon prove it a good decision. Though they say they aimed simply to take after forebears like Throbbing Gristle or Suicide, Ear Bitten proves much more than the simple fact of stylogeny. The 22-track record was born of an anarchic assemblage of found domestic and street-larked objects (as well as specialist musical instruments) blurring the lines between the two: using every sound-making tool from cassette deck, to rare Korg or Kawai synth, to proverbial pots and pans, to open-reel (and thus implicatively fuckable-with) dictaphones, Ear Bitten offers a diabolical vision of the sheer, wordless length of the post-punk deserts parched by their 70s, New York precursors.