Back catalogue: Rock (All)

Review: Discovered after 55 years, the previously unreleased soundtrack to the 1964 noir film You're Not From Around Here finally emerges from the Louis Wayne Moody archive. Laden with twangy tremolo and reverb-drenched revenge, it navigates themes of alienation, paranoia, and existential echo. Packaged in a replica film canister with rusted varnishes and a debossed logo, it immerses you in a world of moral ambiguity. This Cabinet of Curiosities release by Numero delves into the esoteric possibilities of curation, weaving threads of intentionality and psychic connections through music history. It's a tribute to the DIY museum and the emotionally charged artifacts of post-industrial consumerism.

Review: Resurfacing from obscurity after 58 years in the Louis Wayne Moody Pictures vault, this unearthed soundtrack unveils a treasure trove of melancholic melodies, mournful guitars, and eerie echoes. It is another of the seemingly endless gems to come from the great folks at Number Uno and is laden with themes of abandonment, shattered dreams, and existential ponderings. The album, titled They Move in the Night, weaves a narrative of moral ambiguity and tearful farewells, set against the backdrop of lukewarm diner coffee and the relentless pursuit of society's shadows. Fascinating stuff.

Review: Numero Group embark on a conceptual soundtrack release, allegedly having discovered this (mysteriously uncredited) album on the vaulted shelves of the "Louis Wayne Moody pictures" archive. Building on their eerily confounding Louis Wayne Moody compilation series, which compiles lost 60s soundtrack cuts and one-offs by short-lived band projects (and sowing real confusion as to whether the artists featured actually existed), this is certainly a dubious continuation. However, the artists featured here - which takes its inspiration as an alt-reality, alt-score of the classic film You're Not From Around Here - did really exist, albeit at the sacrifice of much recognition in their days. Cycling through lost ditties from The Dropouts, The Florescents, Branko Mataja and Johnny Blue, to name a few, this one packs a backpack's worth of grieving guitars, somber surf and haunting hiss, zipped tight with the teeth of abandonment, dashed dreams, moral ambiguity, fate, tearful goodbyes, and lukewarm diner coffee.