Presented in a screenprinted 3 colour pantone foldover sleeve with insert booklet
Limited copies and already sold out at source.

We love everything about this.
The latest dispatch from GOTHenburg, JJulius will be familliar to a bunch of you already either with his long gone 7″ release, his ragged Garage pop group Skifthande Enheter or more recently with the Album Of The Month contender in his group Monokultur with Loopsel. If none of this means anything to you don’t worry, just slip into the murky, mysteriska world conjured up in the foggy crystal ball by JJulius on this beguingly titled Volume 1.

Like his sister group, Monokultur, JJulius’s own music is now cobwebbed with eldtritch tones, whispered vocal frequencies, juddering basslines purloined perhaps from forgotten Sisters Of Mercy demos and lamented over by the artists’ own baritone Swedish, which as a method of delivery delivers the decaying isolation feeling just fine. The sound is so unique to this creative nexus in northern Scandinavia, loops taped together with industrial super glue whirring through dusty tapeheads, more DIY spirit than you can imagine bolstering the creativity rather than stifling it. Though the sound is rough and spacious, with disparate tracks swelling in and out of earshot JJulius has a barely repressed knack for hooks that poke through the distorted murk enough to keep you welded to his soundworld.

There are so many references to be made for the avid listener. There’s some sparkling Vini Reilly-esque guitar playing dappled liberally through out, fragile songwriting that hints at a sublimated indie pop past. You can trace some minimal wave elements in there with analogue synths and rudimentary as all hell drum machines labouring away under the weight of the gritty din, washes of white noise and submerged burbles that interact with the basslines (is bass the main instrument here?) in quite dubby ways. In fact if it wasn’t for the complete lack of Vit D on these recordings Dub would be quite a nice comparison but perhaps it’s more in the methodology than the music.

It’s not completely lightless, but when the music drifts upwards out of the fog it seems strewn with a flickering halogen bulb, like on andra Tracker which starts off like a beautiful synth ballad before being patched into what sounds like Jjulius jamming a Crass cover half cut. But it would be a misrepresentation to describe Vol. 1 as an overbearing or moody affair, it’s really a kind of detuned post-punk, gloomy as the best goth is sure, but with so many enjoyable little flicks of the wrist and stylistic backflaps. In fact, one of the things that makes Vol. 1 so enjoyable to listen to – if DIY music is your thing – is the complete lack of fucks given by anyone involved to what you think. This is not music written to please you, it’s pure expression battered out as it hits the mind of the producer – in this case Julius Pierstorff during 2020’s lockdown – and that’s why we love it. Music’s not for everyone after all.