One Little Independent Vinyl & CDs

Review: Ann Robie Bandes batter known as Little Annie, or in this instance, Annie Anxiety, is what one could call a punk rock renaissance woman, cited as a singer, painter, poet, writer, recording artist, pastor, and stage actor, while her ties to Steve Ignorant and Penny Rimbaud of Crass would aid her in becoming an underground Patti Smith of the crust generation. Upon moving to London at the behest of her newfound contemporaries and performing poetry readings at Crass shows across the UK, in 1981 she would release her much adored Bared Wire Halo 7" on Crass Records with the help of Rimbaud. This new expanded LP edition restores the original EP along with bonus content collected from differing compilations contributed to by Annie in aid of differing causes, such as 'Gates of Freedom' which originally featured on the 1985 Here We Go compilation to benefit the UK Miners' strike, and 'Soweto Suntan' which came from the Devastate To Liberate LP released by David Tibet's Yangki imprint and also featured Nurse With Wound, Coil, Current 93 and The Legendary Pink Dots. Anarcho-punk memorabilia at its finest.

Review: "Another Bjork album?!" cry the naysayers. But little do they know they've been duped into thinking the Icelandic legend's last full-length, Utopia, was a recent affair. Actually, it's already been a good five years since the singer's flowery flabbergaster, and collab with experimentalists Arca and Doon Kanda, came to be. Fossora, by contrast, is a much more mournful LP: it's a meditation on generations, and was in part inspired by the death of Bjork's mother. It also contains collaborations with her two children, Sindri and isadora. A homelier affair, revisiting Bjork's upbringing in Iceland, on which she hadn't reflected on record since she was 16.

Review: In interviews promoting Fossora, her tenth album, Bjork joked that it started life as "her Clarinet album" - a nod to the set's extensive (and sometimes experimental) use of regular and bass clarinet instrumentation. Really, though, it's her lockdown album, and one partly inspired by the grief she felt following the passing of her mother in 2018. In many ways it's an astonishing set, with the Icelandic artist adding her own distinctive lyrics and vocals - still effortlessly emotional and addictive after all these years - to tracks that brilliantly fuse, mix and mangle red-lined tribal drums, fuzzy IDM style electronics, brass band arrangements, jazz instrumentation and, on the inspired title track, increasingly intense, break-neck dancefloor rhythms that tend towards the gabber end of the spectrum. Unusual, entertaining and utterly beguiling; it's another brilliant album from a genuine one-off.

Review: Nominated for a Grammy Award upon release, Bjork's tenth studio album was a true masterpiece and proved that the Icelandic enigma is far from out of ideas. Aesthetically - both in terms of the visuals and music itself - it's surreal and rich, and this 2023 version adds more to the brew, with additional vocals and extra effects on three of the tracks, including an appearance by her daughter, I?sado?ra Bjarkardo?ttir Barney, and bonus production on 'Ovule'.
Those who missed it first time should know this is one of her least compromising outings - if not the least compromising record she's ever done. Centring on two main sources of inspiration, bass clarinet and gabber music (up there with the most Bjork ideas you've ever heard), despite what that sounds like the LP is all mayhem, warehouse parties and weird woodwind accents. A thing of resolute beauty and visionary ideas, again, our only advice is to take a listen rather than let some writer attempt to explain what's here.